I pull out my phone and send a text to Jackson.
Ky: I can’t train for a few days.
Jackson: You okay?
Ky: Yeah, my ribs copped a beating.
Jackson: How?
Ky: Not important.
I think about DeLuca and that sly little nod he gave to Gunner before he bailed. It was just another way for him to get to me—and I sure as shit won’t let it happen again.
Fuck Gunner.
Fuck DeLuca.
Fuck it all.
Madison returns a moment later and puts her hand around my waist, helping me to stand and walk. I don’t need the help, but I take it anyway.
Because she’s Madison.
And I am, without a doubt, bat-shit crazy about her.
***
She helps me to the couch and not a minute later there’s a knock on the door. “Are you expecting someone?”
“Nope.”
She opens the door to Jackson’s surprised face. They both turn to me. Jackson speaks first. “How bad is it?”
“He already knows?” Madison asks, confusion clear in her tone.
“Yeah,” Jackson answers after a momentary panic. “He asked for a recommendation for a doctor to check it out.”
Madison’s eyes widen. “It’s that bad?”
They both stalk toward me as if I’m an injured animal they need to assess. “Just precautionary.” I glare at Jackson. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll get the ice,” Madison says, making her way to the kitchen.
Jax sits next to me and kicks his legs up on the coffee table. “Playing house already. You’ve known her how long? A few days?”
“Leave it alone, Jax.”
“How much do you know about her?”
“Enough.”
Madison returns with an ice pack and sits on my other side. She lifts my shirt, completely ignoring the fact that Jackson is watching her intently. “It’s not looking so good,” she says, placing the pack on my right side.
I flinch.
She cringes. “We’ll stay in. I’ll get some menus.” She looks up at Jackson. “Did you want to stay for dinner?”
He shakes his head. “I have a little work to do. Was just checking in on big bro.”
She nods and stands back up. When she’s in the kitchen, far enough that she can’t hear us, Jax laughs. “Is she going for some bride speed record?”
I chuckle. “Are you jealous?”
“I’m serious, bro.” And the look on his face lets me know it. “Do you even know her last name?”
“Why?” I ask, incredulously. “Are you going to do a background check?”
He rolls his eyes.
“Maddy!” I shout, my eyes on Jax.
“Yeah?”
“What’s your last name?”
“Haynes.”
I raise my eyebrows at Jackson.
“Why?” she says, coming back over with a bunch of take-out menus.
I shrug. “Just realized I didn’t know it.”
She smiles awkwardly, her eyes flicking to Jackson before attempting to look busy with the menus.
“So, a few days?” Jax asks.
“At least three, I’d say.”
“Okay. I’ll text you the number of my doctor. Get him to check it out,” he says, more for Madison’s ears than mine. He stands up. “Madison, good seeing you again.”
She smiles, still awkward.
“I’ll let myself out.”
I watch him leave, and when he quietly shuts the door behind him, Madison says, “He hates me.” The sadness in her tone is palpable.
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Yeah, he does.”
“He’s just protective.”
“Of a girl?” She laughs.
I shrug. “History.”
***
Madison leans back on the couch after finishing dinner and pats her stomach twice. “I’m so full.”
She laughs and rests her head on my shoulder. “I’m kind of happy you got the next few days off. It means we can hang out more.”
“Oh,” I say, feigning disappointment. “I didn’t really plan on spending all that time off with you.”
She swats my stomach with the back of her hand. The sharp pain in my ribs is instant. “Fuck.” I hold a hand to my side and hiss out a breath.
She yelps, and then turns to me. “Shit, Ky. I’m sorry.”
Eyes squeezed shut—I shake my head and bite my tongue. She whimpers and covers my hand with both of hers. “I’m so sorry. I forgot.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.”
I hold my breath and let the ache filter out of me. Her gaze focuses on my ribs; her lips turned down to a frown. She’s on the verge of tears.
“Maddy,” I laugh, and then wince out in pain. “It’s fine. It was an accident.”
She shakes her head, her gaze lifting to mine. “I should go.” She stands up quickly.
I grab her arm to stop her. “No. Stay with me tonight.”
“I’ll just hurt you more.”
“No, you won’t. Stop being dramatic. Plus, what if I need your help to pee in the middle of the night? Do you really want to be the reason I wet the bed?”
It’s supposed to be a joke, but she isn’t laughing. “It’s that bad?”
“Yeah. Really bad.” I fake a grimace. “Please, Maddy, it hurts so damn much.”