Stay With Me

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Stay With Me Page 10

by Kristen Proby


  “Are you? Because you can’t even launch your brand until this is wrapped up. Not to mention, you’re not divorced.”

  “Stop it. I am. And this will be over soon, and I’ll go back to L.A. and be out of your hair.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you have to move back to L.A.?”

  I stare at him. “Because it’s where my work is. My condo. My car. My life.”

  “All of that is easy to move here. You don’t have that asshole tying you down there anymore, Lia. You can just as easily live in Seattle.”

  “My makeup brand will be launching out of L.A.”

  “Commute for that.”

  I frown and look down. Honestly, I’ve been seriously considering this over the past week or so, but I’m not ready to talk about it. Not yet.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good.” He smiles at me. “Do you have any food?”

  “What is it with you and Will and eating us all out of house and home?”

  “I’m a growing boy,” he says, rubbing his belly.

  “Ew. I don’t want to know.”

  “If you don’t want to feed me, I could just throw you into the pool.”

  I cock a brow. “Do not do that.”

  “It looks warm.” He stands, and I run away from him, but he catches me, lifting me into the air.

  “No! Archer, I’m serious, do not throw me in that pool. I just dried my hair, damn it!”

  “You can dry it again.”

  “No. No no no no no.”

  I’m giggling until he walks closer to the edge.

  “Damn it, Archer, no.”

  “She said no.”

  Archer stops, and our gazes fly to the man standing at the other end of the pool, near the entrance of the house. His hands are fisted, and his eyes are lethal.

  Wyatt wants to deck someone.

  “Wyatt, this is—”

  “I don’t give a fuck who he is. You’ll take your hands off of her. Now.”

  “Or what?” Archer asks as he lowers me to the ground and walks around the pool toward Wyatt.

  “For fuck’s sake, stop it.” I run to catch up with Archer and stand between him and Wyatt. “I said stop it.”

  “Who is this joker?” Archer asks. I plant my hand on his chest, then turn to see Wyatt glowering down at me and my hand currently touching my brother.

  “This is Wyatt,” I reply. “My neighbor from across the street, and my boyfriend. And Wyatt, this is Archer, my brother.”

  “Yeah, I’m her brother,” Archer says, narrowing his eyes.

  “For the love of God, stop with the posturing. It’s exhausting and ridiculous.”

  I walk away, leaving them to beat the hell out of each other if they want to. So be it. I’m not a fucking referee. What is it with men and their egos? My ex was the absolute worst. He drove me absolutely nuts with it, and I refuse to put up with it from these two.

  I walk into the kitchen to pour another glass of lemonade. Archer comes in behind me.

  “I’m going to go,” he says, surprising me. “But I’ll be back soon. Text me. If you’re in town, I should see you more often.”

  “Uh, okay. What the hell just happened, and what did you do with my brother? Did you drown him?”

  He grins. “Wyatt and I talked. We’re cool.” He waves as he walks out of the house.

  I turn to put the pitcher in the fridge and hear the glass door shut behind me. I don’t turn as I start to speak.

  “You know, I don’t appreciate—”

  I don’t have a chance to finish before he takes the glass out of my hand, sets it on the counter, and turns me around to look at him.

  “You know what I don’t appreciate, Amelia? I don’t appreciate walking in here to find you in another man’s arms. Laughing and squealing and having a good time while that man touches you.”

  “Jesus, he’s my brother.” Don’t do this. Don’t turn into a jerk now.

  “I didn’t know that,” he says. He’s breathing hard, his chest is heaving, and his hands keep curling in and out of fists by his sides. “All I knew was that he had his fucking hands on you.”

  “He’s my brother,” I repeat and push my nose up near his. “And you just walked in here like you own the place.”

  His eyes narrow.

  “I can hang out with whomever I please. I don’t have to ask your permission. I don’t have to ask for anyone’s permission for anything.”

  He cages me against the countertop, still not touching me.

  “Do you think this is about me wanting a say in who you hang out with? Are you that blind?”

  “I think you’re acting ridiculous,” I counter, frustration vibrating through me. “You went all caveman without just asking who he is. I wasn’t having sex with him. We were playing around, Wyatt.”

  “Let me turn this around on you, sweetheart. If you walked into my house, and I was holding onto a beautiful woman, a stranger to you, how would that make you feel?”

  I immediately see red, but I just clear my throat and school my features. “I would calmly ask if I was interrupting.”

  He leans in farther and plants his lips against my ear. “Bull. Shit.”

  “Now I’m a liar?”

  He laughs and shakes his head, but there’s no humor there.

  “If you’re this mad at me, you can just leave. No harm, no foul. Because I won’t be told who I can have fun with, Wyatt. I’ve put up with that shit in the past, and I won’t do it now, not even for you.”

  “I’m so damn frustrated,” he growls. “I can’t even touch you. I’m afraid of hurting you.”

  His jaw clenches, and a piece of his long hair falls onto his forehead. I can’t resist reaching up to smooth it back, and the next thing I know, he’s kissing me like a man possessed.

  “I wanted to kill him,” he mutters as he kisses his way down my neck. “I was going to rip his fucking arms off.”

  “Violent.”

  “Deserved,” he replies. “You said the other day that you’re not staking a claim; well I’m telling you right now, I am.”

  He picks me up and carries me into the living room, laying me on the couch the same way he did the first night we had sex here.

  “Wyatt—”

  “Stop talking.” He’s making quick work of sliding my clothes off, kissing my skin, making me come alive beneath him. “I’ve never been a jealous man, Amelia. I can put up with a lot. But seeing another man touching you seems to be my breaking point. If you’re not ready to call this a relationship, so be it, but that’s exactly what we’re in, Amelia.”

  His fingers are doing delicious things to me, moving through the lips of my pussy, making me so damn wet and needy, I don’t even know who I am right now.

  He pushes inside me and stops when he’s balls-deep.

  “This? This is mine, Amelia, do you hear me?”

  I can’t look away from his intense hazel eyes. They’re on fire as he watches me, making it clear in no uncertain terms that he’s here to stay. It should terrify me, but it only makes me want him more.

  “Say it.”

  “Yours.”

  “What’s mine?” He’s moving now, roughly, pushing me hard toward the finish line. “Tell me.”

  “My pussy is yours.”

  “No.” He stops now and holds my face in his palm. “You. All of you is mine.”

  My heart shatters as his eyes fill with tears, and I know that I’ve fallen just as hard as he has. I am his.

  And he’s absofuckinglutely mine.

  “I’m yours, Wyatt.”

  “That’s right,” he says, tipping his forehead against mine as he thrusts in and out of me, sending us both into the stratosphere.

  “But, Wyatt?”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “You’re mine, too. This isn’t one-way.”

  “No. It isn’t one-way.”

  ~Amelia~

  “Seeaaaaattllllle!” Leo sc
reams out into the crowd, making the whole place erupt into absolute, adoring chaos. “I fucking love you!”

  Wyatt is holding my hand, and he gives me a squeeze. I glance up and smile at him happily. My cousins have been giving him the side-eye all evening, and I’m sure there will be some interrogations later, but Wyatt’s been completely calm, having a great time.

  “Look, there’s Meg!” Jules yells, pointing as Meg walks confidently out on stage, holding a guitar. She’s gorgeous in a short, black dress that flows around her legs, and her hair is wild with pink streaks running through it.

  “I fucking love it when Meg sings,” Nat says, clapping excitedly.

  The whole Montgomery clan is crammed into the first two rows, just in front of the stage to the right side so we can see everything perfectly. Leo knows how to end a world tour.

  “This is Meg,” Leo says, gesturing toward her with a grin. “Y’all remember her, right?”

  Key Arena explodes into applause again, making Meg grin from ear to ear.

  “We’re going to sing a couple of songs together,” Leo says, then takes the mic away from his mouth and leans in to say something to Meg. She nods and begins to play the guitar. “This is one we used to sing all the time, back in the day when Meg was in my band.”

  She walks up to her mic. “You mean when you were in my band.”

  She winks at the crowd, making them laugh, and Leo just shakes his head.

  Leo Nash is sexy as fuck. I glance over at Jules, who just winks at me. He’s the consummate rock star: tattooed and pierced, his hair messy, gauges in his ears. I never would have paired him with Samantha, but she’s gazing up at him from a few chairs away from me with lust and so much love, I’m surprised she hasn’t exploded with it.

  They break out into an old Coldplay song, and I begin to dance around. Wyatt has moved throughout the night, but suddenly, he starts dancing. And I don’t just mean stepping back and forth.

  My man can move.

  “Damn, you’re good at this,” I say, and he winks down at me, sweeps me into his arms, and moves us in the sexiest circle that’s ever existed.

  If we weren’t surrounded by about a billion people, I’d climb him right here and now.

  When the song is over, Wyatt dips me deeply and then pulls me back up to kiss me silly.

  My cousins applaud.

  “What’s next?” Meg asks Leo. Without a word, he breaks out into another song, and she easily keeps up.

  “I love P!nk,” Stacy says. For the next thirty minutes, Meg and Leo rock the stage, until finally, Meg pulls her guitar off and takes a bow.

  “She’s damn good,” Wyatt says.

  “She really is,” I agree. Meg joins us as Nash breaks out into more songs from their extensive backlist, rocking for another thirty minutes.

  “Jesus, how long are they going to play?” Brynna asks. “They have to be exhausted!”

  “It’s the last night, so they’ll play for a while,” Sam says, watching her husband. “And Seattle is their favorite crowd.”

  “I can see why,” Nat replies. “Are you sure you want all of us to come over tonight? Don’t you want him all to yourself?”

  “I’ll have him,” she says.

  “Their house looks amazing,” Alecia informs us. “And there’s way too much food for just the two of them.”

  “Will’s probably already eaten most of it,” Meg comments.

  “I planned for him,” Alecia replies. “I’ve been planning family events for five years. I’ve got this.”

  The guys have left the stage, and the crowd is chanting for an encore, which of course they’ll get. Nash tickets might be out-of-this-world expensive, but the show is worth every dime.

  “Thank you for bringing me to this,” Wyatt murmurs in my ear. I grin up at him.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  Will, Luke, and Dominic stayed at Sam’s house for the concert. Will and Luke will draw attention away from the stage, and Dom volunteered to finish setting up so Alecia could come to the concert and enjoy the show.

  Everyone else is here. I have no idea who got suckered into taking the dozen or so kids for the night, but I don’t envy them.

  That’s a lot of kids. The Montgomerys reproduce like it’s a job.

  When the concert is officially over, and Nash has taken their bows, we make our way backstage.

  “We can seriously just see them later,” Jules says, but Sam shakes her head.

  “He’ll want to see us. Trust me.”

  We turn a corner as Leo does. He’s clearly looking for someone, and the way his face lights up when he sees Sam says he’s found her.

  “Hey, sunshine,” he says as he pulls her into his arms and kisses her soundly. “How were we?”

  “So fucking good,” she says before kissing him again. “I’m so proud of you.”

  He just hugs her close, then sets her down, and everyone else moves in for hugs and handshakes. When he gets to me, he surprises me by hugging me tightly.

  “So glad you came, little one.”

  “Thanks for inviting me,” I reply. “It was so good, Leo.”

  “I know,” he says with a cocky wink, then turns his attention to Wyatt. “I’m Leo.”

  Wyatt just laughs. “Yes, I know. I’m Wyatt.”

  “The Wyatt?” he asks with a raised brow. “Well, we’ll have to talk later, then.”

  Wyatt and I exchange surprised looks.

  “Why do you all talk so much?” I ask the group at large.

  “You’re a Montgomery,” my cousin, Caleb, reminds me. “This is not news.”

  “At least you’d never talk about me behind my back, Caleb.”

  “He doesn’t talk to anyone,” Jules reminds me.

  “Exactly.”

  Caleb just winks at me, then gives Wyatt the stink eye again.

  “Stop looking at him like that.”

  “I don’t think we formally met earlier,” Wyatt says and steps over to him. “I’m Wyatt Crawford.”

  “Are you just fucking her, or are you her boyfriend?” Caleb asks, making me gasp, Nat roll her eyes, and Brynna laugh.

  This isn’t funny.

  Okay, it’s kind of funny.

  “We can’t have this conversation now,” Matt says. “The others aren’t here to hear the answer.”

  “Save it then,” Caleb says. “And think long and hard about that answer.”

  “My cousins are stupid,” I grumble in the car on the way to Sam and Leo’s fortress on the cliff that overlooks the Pacific Ocean. “I mean, this is the twenty-first century, and they’re acting like cavemen.”

  “They’re acting like people who care about you. They don’t know me,” Wyatt reminds me and kisses my fingers. “We’ll chat it out tonight.”

  “No fists,” I warn him.

  “I’ve never punched anyone,” he says with a laugh.

  “You were going to punch Archer the other day.”

  “Well, in my defense, he was touching you, and you were saying no. So, yeah, he might have seen the wrong side of my fist.”

  I study him as he turns off the freeway, following the directions on the GPS.

  “You know what occurred to me yesterday?” I ask.

  “What’s that?”

  “That you might have had a moment of déjà vu.” I lick my lips. “From before.”

  “Like I said, it wasn’t a good moment,” he says, his jaw tense. I reach up and brush the backs of my fingers down his smooth cheek, wishing I could scoot into his lap and hold him close.

  “I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me in the moment,” I say quietly. “I just had my own déjà vu regarding my ex, and it irritated me.”

  He spares me a glance, his eyes warm in the darkness. “We’re fine.”

  “I know.” I shrug a shoulder. “But I’m still sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says, turning right into the driveway and punching in the code at the gate that Sam texted me. He drives down and parks behi
nd Luke’s fancy Mercedes, kills the engine, and turns to me.

  “Are we going in?”

  “I want to say something first. We both need to make an effort to not jump to conclusions. To ask or talk before we assume the worst because of the shit we went through before.”

  “You’re right.” I nod and then decide, fuck it. I scoot across the center console and shimmy my way into his lap, making us both laugh. “This was much sexier in my head.”

  “It’s not not sexy, but damn, you’re going to make me hard, and I have to go behave around your family for a few hours before I can get you home.”

  “You’ll be okay.” My voice is confident as I wrap my arms around his neck and lean in, pressing my breasts against his chest. “We should shake on the whole talk before judging thing.”

  “This is shaking?” He cocks a brow, and his eyes are lit up with humor.

  “This is sexy shaking,” I confirm, wiggling on him. I can feel him begin to harden through his jeans and my panties.

  “You know, all I have to do is unzip my pants and rip your underwear.”

  “See, there are those caveman tendencies again.” I kiss him softly.

  “You’re on my cock, Amelia. I don’t have any blood left in my brain.”

  I giggle and bury my face in the crook of his neck.

  “I really just wanted to hold you for a minute.”

  “I’m holding you,” he says, but his hands are rubbing up and down my back, not in a sexual kind of way, but as if to say, “I’ve got you.”

  “It’s nice.”

  We’re quiet for a moment until there’s a knock on the window, making us both jump. Wyatt rolls down the window to find Jules standing there, laughing.

  “No fucking in the car, guys. There’s a party going on.”

  “We’re not fucking,” I inform her.

  “Yet,” Wyatt adds, making us laugh. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  She nods and skips away, as Jules does. She’s always seemed so light on her feet, so happy. She slips one arm through Nate’s, and they make their way inside.

  “We should go,” I murmur. He frowns and looks as if he wants to say something else, but he just sighs.

 

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