Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

A ding alerts me to the elevator door opening, and I step into the empty cab.

Remembering I need to get my purse, I press the number for our office floor.

As the doors slide shut, I lift my gaze to get one last look at the party, relieved that no one is looking or heading this way.

The doors are three inches from closing when a large hand sticks itself into the opening.

The doors slide back open, and Maddox steps into the elevator.

TWENTY-SIX

MADDOX

I turn to face the party, staying silent as the doors close, cutting us off from everyone else.

TWENTY-SEVEN

HANNAH

He hasn’t said anything. Hasn’t reached for me. Hasn’t moved a muscle. But my heart has started racing, and my chest feels heavy with each breath.

Carefully, so I don’t draw his attention, I reach my hand out and press my fingertips to the wall, bracing myself.

The elevator comes to a stop on our floor, and Maddox doesn’t move.

My hands start to tremble. Not from fear, but from something else.

When another long second passes without him moving, I step forward. Maybe he’s not getting off here. Maybe he’s just waiting for me to exit, then he’ll press the selection for the parking levels.

His wide frame is half blocking the door, so I have to shift sideways to get out. And I give him my back as I shuffle past.

Something brushes against my ass, and I take my next step quicker.

Just get to my office. Get my purse. And go.

Footsteps follow me off the elevator.

They follow me down the hall.

All the way to my door.

I turn the handle, push my office door open, and step inside.

I don’t turn around, but I hear Maddox follow me.

I hear him shut the door.

And I hear him lock it.

I stop beside my desk, facing the windows that look out into the city. They’re tinted like upstairs, so we can see out, but no one can see in.

There’s a footstep, then another.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

Maddox steps closer until the front of his body presses against my back. “I’m reminding you.”

“Of what?”