Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

“Buckle up,” Maddox commands.

“Okay, Mom,” I reply out of habit, even as I reach for the strap.

“Not your mom,” Maddox growls before shutting my door.

Protected by the tinted windshield, I watch him as he walks around the front of his car.

He really is an incredible-looking man.

The height. The build. The way he holds himself.

Not my mom, indeed.

Maddox is Daddy material.

As he approaches his open door, I remember calling him Mr. Lovelace back in my office, and my cheeks start to heat.

I said it to be bratty. Because I wanted to snap at him. But as soon as it came out of my mouth, I remembered calling him that way back when. During our first ever kiss.

The car shifts as Maddox climbs into his seat, and I don’t miss the grunt he lets out.

I almost open my mouth to say something. Ask if he’s okay. Ask how his joints are holding up after a lifetime of tackling and being tackled. But I don’t. It’s none of my business.

His comfort was… nice. And appreciated. But I can’t let myself get lost in it.

I can’t let myself forget how easily he forgot me.

That thought alone is enough to put the first brick up in the walls around my heart.

Maddox was really decent to me just now. But he was also a real fucker before that.

NINETEEN

MADDOX

Brandon’s car is already pulling away when I shift into drive.

The light is green, but I still move slowly, making sure to check the intersection before I cross through it.

Hannah is quiet at my side, face turned to look out her window.

My fingers twitch around the steering wheel.

I want to reach for her. Place my hand on her thigh or entwine our fingers again.

I want to feel her against me. Feel her hands pressing into my back, holding me close.

I want to erase the history between us. The doubts. The hurt feelings.

If we’d met now, our paths never crossing before this, I’d still want her. No fucking doubt about it.

But now is not the time to confront her about what she did fifteen years ago. She might not be shaking anymore, but the adrenaline crash will be hitting soon— if it hasn’t already.

I clear my throat. “Do you need anything from your office?”

“Hmm?” Hannah finally turns her head to look at me.

“The office. Do you need anything from it?” I glance over at her furrowed brow. “I’ll drive you home.”