35. Hannah

THIRTY-FIVE

"Stick them in the fridge," I tell Chelsea as I hurry out of the kitchen toward the front door.

It's Mom's birthday today, and we just finished making cinnamon rolls to bake after dinner, and our Chinese food delivery is early.

They knock a second time on the front door.

"Coming!" I call out, wiping my hands on the apron I'm wearing over my shorts and a T-shirt.

I snag the cash tip off the bench where I left it and pull the door open. "Here—"

My body freezes at the sight of Maddox.

He's standing right there.

On my front step.

I swing the door shut, not wanting to talk to him after last night.

Right before the door closes, Maddox puts his palm out, stopping it.

I know if I pushed on it, he'd drop his hand, let me close the door in his face.

But he's here.

I pull the door back open.

I watch him watching me.

"I'd like to talk to you." His tone is so sincere it makes my teeth ache.

"Maddox —"

"Come on, bring the food in!" Mom calls from inside the house.

I eye Maddox, and I call back over my shoulder. "It's not the food."

"What is it?" Mom shouts back.

"It's a man," I say flatly. And it almost looks like the edge of Maddox's mouth twitches.

"Well, shut the door in his face or let him in, but quit letting all the cold air out."

This time, I'm certain his mouth twitches before he leans over me into the doorway. "Evening, Mrs. Utley."

He calls it out in his sweetest voice, so I'm not even surprised at my mom's reply.

"Bring him in!"

"Mom," I heave out, exasperated.

"It's my birthday, Hannah." She says it like it's a reason to invite the male species into our home when she doesn't even know who's at the door.

I look up at Maddox.

He puts his palms up. "It is her birthday."

I bite down on my lip.

There is no good outcome to this.

"Why are you here?"

Maddox takes a step closer. "Because I want to talk to you."

I keep staring at him. "You're not going to fire me, are you? Because I don't think that's an appropriate thing to do at my house."

He rears back. "Fire you?" He shakes his head. "No. That's not— that's ridiculous. I just want to talk to you, and I don't want to do it at work."

"And you have my home address…?"

"It was printed on your résumé. I didn't even have to steal it."

I bite my lip some more. "My phone number was also on there."

He nods.

"You could've called," I point out.

"Wasn't sure you'd answer my call."

His call.

God, what a mind fuck it would be to have him call me now, after all this time.

We're staring at each other when Chelsea comes up to stand beside me. "Who's this guy?"

Maddox glances at Chelsea, then slowly lowers his gaze back down for a double take.