“Walk me out?” she asks, eyeballing me.
“Sure.” I nod before facing Selena. “Why don’t you run a bath? There’s a bathroom with a tub on the next level up. There are towels and toiletries in the cupboard. Take whatever you need.”
“That sounds good. Okay.”
She gives Sandrine a quick hug. “I’ll text or FaceTime you later and again in the morning.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you then.”
I watch Selena walk upstairs with a lump wedged in my throat. I love seeing her here in my space. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t imagined it countless times since we moved in.
“If you pack a bag for Selena, I’ll have someone come by and pick it up,” I say as I walk Sandrine out of our condo.
“An overnight bag, or do you intend for her to stay longer?” she asks, raising a brow as we wait for the elevator to arrive.
“That will be up to Selena, but if it was up to me, it’d be for longer.”
I expect her to protest, so I’m pleasantly surprised at her reply. “I think that would be a good idea.”
The door pings, and we step into the elevator. “You’re okay with this?”
She pushes the button, and the doors close. “Make no mistake, Keanu, I am very far from okay. I am terrified for that beautiful girl upstairs but trying my best not to let her see that.”
“I get that. I’m the same. But I’m not about to let anything happen to her.”
“These people operate outside the law, Keanu. If that man finds out she is in Boston, there is nothing either of us can do to keep her safe, so we need to ensure he doesn’t find her. And if he does, it’s best she’s not living with me.” The doors open, and we step out into the corridor. She looks left and right, ensuring there is no one in the vicinity. “You two publicly broke up two years ago. As far as everyone is concerned, you have both moved on. This would not be the first place he’d come looking for her, which is why she is safer living with you for now.” She folds her arms, slanting me a stern look. “Unless there is a girlfriend on the scene or some reason why she can’t be hidden away here.”
“There is no one else. There never has been. Selena has always been the love of my life, and I meant what I said back there. I would take a bullet for her. No one is hurting her again.”
“She loves you very much,” she says, patting my arm. “As I do. When she ended things, it broke my heart, because you were so good for her. But she needed to do things her way. She needed her independence.”
“I would have given her anything she asked.”
“Talk to her. Let her explain. She believed she was doing the best thing for both of you.”
I struggle to see how it helped either one of us, but I keep that thought to myself.
We step outside, and I walk her to her car.
She lowers down the window once she’s behind the wheel. “Please keep my daughter safe.”
“I promise you I will protect her.”
She nods. “You’re a good man, Keanu. And I trust you with her life, but I have one piece of advice for you.”
I quirk a brow, intrigued as to what she’s going to say.
“Fight for her this time. If she tries to push you away again, which she might, don’t let her. Convince her what we both know is true.”
“Which is?”
“Her inner strength shines the brightest when she’s with you.”
7
Keanu
Selena is in the bath when I return, so I set about fixing dinner. Kent saunters into the kitchen as I’m stir-frying vegetables and chicken. “How’s Selena?” he asks, moving to the sink and washing his hands.
“She’s okay.”
He dries his hands, leaning back against the counter, wearing an expression I can’t read. “What’s going on, Keanu?”
I toss the food in the wok, squeezing my eyes shut. I hate lying to my brother. Especially Kent, because he’s the one who’s been there for me the most these past two years.
Growing up, I was always closest to Keaton and Kent. It’s a triplet thing. But during my earlier teenage years, it was Keats I was tight with. Kent was partying like crazy. Drowning in pussy and booze. Dabbling in drugs. And he rejected every attempt Keats and I made to intervene, so we stopped trying. Keaton was going steady with Melissa, and I had Selena. We just bonded more. I hated there was a divide between the three of us, but things are different now.
Now, Keats is the one I feel most estranged from. He chose to go to Berkeley instead of coming with us to Harvard, surprising not only Melissa but Kent and me too. Kent has been the one supporting me as my world fell apart in the aftermath of my breakup with Selena. His advice might not have always been what I needed, but I can’t fault how hard he’s tried to pull me out of my head.
But even through all that, we’re all keeping secrets.
Keats isn’t happy. That much is blatantly obvious. But he doesn’t volunteer the reason for it, and I don’t pry. Because then, I might have to open up about my shit, and that’s not something I find easy to do.
Kent isn’t happy either. Sure, he disguises it better than Keats, but I know what I see. He’s hiding something too.
We all are.
And it makes our previously unshakeable bond feel like a fucking lie.
I hate it, but I don’t know how to fix things. Or if I should be the one to do it.
I tried to help Selena, and all that did was drive her further away.
“Earth to Keanu,” Kent says, dragging me back into the present. “You hear me?”
I lower the heat on the stove and walk to the refrigerator, reaching in and removing two beers. I’ve been trying to abstain lately, but after today, I need this. I hand a bottle to my brother, popping the cap on my beer and taking a healthy glug before I answer him. “I heard you, but all I can say is there is a lot of shit going down and Selena will be staying with us for a while.”
He pulls at his lower lip, eyeing me strangely. “What happened to her, it wasn’t just today, right? Whatever it is, it’s from her past, and you keeping her away from us, that was tied up with it too.”
I’m dumbfounded at his astute observations. Because I’ve said jackshit about Selena in the past. Kept her away from my family because of her social anxiety and because she doesn’t like to talk about what happened to her. Getting close to people comes with that risk. They want to know her story, and she’s never been comfortable repeating it. Hell, it was months before she was able to tell me the truth although I had some inkling because Mom had given me a heads-up when I first started modeling with her. Mom wanted to ensure I didn’t do anything to spook the timid girl with the long legs and big, sad eyes.
“Yes,” I admit. “It’s connected to her past, but I can’t say anything more than that because it’s not my story to tell.”
He mulls that over in his head, slowly nodding, and I wonder where my brash, blunt brother has disappeared to. This is a side of Kent I don’t see much of. “Is she in any danger?”
“Yes.” My chest tightens in painful awareness. “And I’m not taking any chances. Kev is sending a security detail over, and I have a couple guys watching her mom too.”
“Can I do anything to help?” he asks, bringing the beer bottle to his lips.
“Just be nice to her. Please. And don’t touch her.”
He scowls, and his nostrils flare. “Seriously, dude? I would never make a play for your girl.”
I shake my head. “That’s not what I meant. She’s skittish when people touch her. I didn’t realize how much we casually touch others until I had to be on my guard around her. No brushing past her. Patting her on the head or the arm or moving to hug her or kiss her cheek or anything like that.”
He drills a hole into my head, and I know he’s reading into what I’ve just said. “Got it. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“And no parties or strange guys here. And when you bring fuck buddies home, I’d appreciate it if you’d k
eep it confined to your room, tone the noise down, and keep them away from Sel.” I know I’m asking a lot, but if the tables were reversed, I would do it for him.
“Sure.”
My eyes almost bug out of my head at how easy he agrees. I feel like a douche for not giving my brother more credit. I cross the room, grabbing him into a manly hug. I slap him on the back. “Thanks, bro. I appreciate it.”
He pulls back, shoving me away with a grin. “She’s your girl. I want her to feel comfortable here.”
Pain splays across my chest with his words. I don’t know what we are anymore, but I can’t claim her as mine again. At least not yet. “She’s my friend, Kent. There isn’t anything going on.”
“Yet.” He smirks. “I saw the way you two were looking at one another. I think I get it now.” I arch a brow. “She’s your person, and you are hers.”
My chest heaves as I stir the rice in the pot, turning the heat off. I glance over my shoulder at my brother. “Yeah. But it’s complicated.”
He bobs his head. “I see that.”
The screeching of a stool ends our conversation, and both our heads whip around to the gorgeous blonde sliding onto a stool at the counter. Selena’s cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink, and she lowers her eyes to the marble countertop.
“How was your bath?” I ask, removing three plates.
“Perfect,” she softly says, gracing me with a shy smile when she looks up. Her hair is damp at the ends, her face scrubbed clean of makeup, and she takes my breath away.
Like every time I look at her.
“I made a chicken stir-fry. I hope that’s okay?”
“Sounds good. Thank you.” She purposely avoids looking at Kent.
“Can I get you a beer or something else to drink?” Kent asks in a much gentler tone than he normally uses, and I shoot him a grateful look.
She looks up at him through hooded eyes, her cheeks flushing a little. “Just a water. I don’t drink alcohol.”
“No problem.” Kent grabs a water from the fridge, handing the bottle to her. “I’ll set the table,” he says, grabbing silverware and moving toward the small dining table behind us.
I lean my elbows on the counter, smiling at the love of my life. “I have a guy bringing a bag with your things. He should be here within the hour.” I glance at her torn jeans. “I can give you a pair of my shorts if you like?”
“I’m good. I can wait.”
Dinner is a quiet affair, but it’s not uncomfortable. After, Kent makes himself scarce, affording us privacy to watch a movie. I dim the lights and grab a blanket from my bedroom, and we curl up on the couch, me sitting with Selena’s head in my lap. Even though there is so much we still need to say, we don’t talk, and I’m okay with that. I’m content to have her snuggled into me, breathing the same air I breathe.
Her new bodyguards arrive a couple hours later, and they drop off her bags when making introductions. I take them aside in the hallway outside to explain her condition and ensure they know how best to help her if she has an anxiety attack. I want this to provide comfort and security, not add to her stress. I slip them a vial of lavender oil to keep in their car.
Selena has changed into cute pink and purple short pajamas when I return, and it takes colossal willpower not to stare at her slim legs or the taut peaks of her nipples, trying to poke a hole through her thin top. She lies back down on my lap, and I empty my mind of all horny thoughts, willing my semi to deflate.
A few minutes later, her breathing evens out and her arm drops to her side as she falls asleep.
I watch her like a bona fide creeper. Tracing every curve and dip on her face with my eyes. My gaze roams her long, lithe body under the blanket, and I make two silent vows to myself.
I will keep her safe.
And I’m going to make her mine again.
* * *
I carry her up the stairs, cradling her to my chest, my heart thumping wildly behind my rib cage, elated to have her in my arms again. I nudge the door of the guest bedroom aside, pleased I thought to turn down the covers earlier.
The second I place her down on the bed, she snakes her arms around my neck. Her eyes are still closed as she sleepily murmurs. “Not here. Your room.”
I falter for a second, unsure if she’s aware of what’s she saying. We have never slept the night beside one another, and I’m too weak in this moment to do the honorable thing. So, I lift her up again and pad to my bedroom, carefully placing her in my bed and tucking the comforter around her.
She reaches for me, and my heart soars. I press a featherlight kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll be right there. Go to sleep, baby.”
I get changed into a white T-shirt and pajama bottoms, take a piss, and brush my teeth so fast it’s worthy of an entry in The Guinness Book of World Records.
I turn off the main bedroom light but switch on the lamps on either side of the bed. I put the TV on low, because I know Sel likes to sleep with it on.
Silence and darkness are triggers, and dimmed lighting and background noise helps ease her anxiety. I’m not sure if she still has recurring nightmares, but I’m assuming she does. I don’t want her waking up in unfamiliar surroundings in the dark for fear of where it might send her. I crawl under the covers and scoot over to her side, gently curling my body around hers. Her body softens against mine, and a little contented murmur escapes her plump lips, and I relax, confident she’s okay with this.
I watch her again, because, you know, I’ve got this creeper act down to a fine art form, and I can’t contain the smile that breaks out on my face. I hate the circumstances that drove her to seek me out, but I can’t deny how fucking ecstatic I am to have her here.
8
Selena
I bolt upright in the bed, my sleep tank stuck to my back, with high-pitched screams ringing in my ears. My heart is going one hundred miles an hour, and adrenaline courses through my body, making me feel antsy and on edge.
Movement beside me elevates my blood pressure to coronary-inducing levels, and the screams get louder, confirming they are emanating from me.
“Selena. It’s Keanu. You’re at my place. You are safe.” His voice is calm and soothing, his reassurances determined and familiar. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
My eyes drink in the strange room, and I jerk around, my shoulders slumping in relief at the tousled-haired form before me. “K.” I fall into him, my hands fisting his shirt as I cling to him, sobbing.
Tentatively, his arms go around me, and he runs a light hand up and down my back. It helps calm me down, and gradually, my tears die out. “Sorry,” I whisper, still clinging to him like he’ll disappear if I let go. I hate feeling needy. Hate how it feels like it’s undermining my hard-won independence, but I’m drowning, and he’s the only one who can keep me afloat.
You’re not weak. You’re not regressing. There is a difference between feeling needy and needing assistance. You are seeking support in the right way.
The words reverberate around my head as if Denise was actually here speaking the words she’s so often said. I try to keep that in mind. To remember all I’ve achieved. To understand coming here is not a show of weakness but a show of strength.
“You don’t need to apologize. None of this is your fault.” His chest rises and falls under my head. “And I like looking after you. I know you don’t agree, but it’s what I was put on this Earth to do.”
“Stop being so perfect,” I mumble against his chest, a slight smile tugging up the corners of my mouth when his chest rumbles underneath me.
“I will when you do,” he teases, and I snort because we both know I’m as far from perfect as you can get. “Hey.” He kisses the top of my head, and his next few words confirm how deeply connected we are. Keanu knows what I’m thinking because he knows me so well. “You are perfect to me, Sel. You always have been.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I look up at him through blurry, hooded eyes. “Why don’t you hate me?”
>
He places his forehead against mine. “I could never hate you. Never.”
I shiver, and he removes his forehead from mine, slowly winding his arm around my back. “Let’s lie back down. It’s still the middle of the night, and you need to sleep.”
I let him pull us down flat, and he tugs the comforter up over us. “You need to talk about it?” he asks, and I shake my head.
Discussing that nightmare will only induce a panic attack, and Keanu doesn’t need to hear that shit. He’s aware of my history, but I’ve never gone into graphic detail about all the things that were done to me because I don’t want him suffering nightmares, and if he knew every sordid detail, it’d definitely keep him awake at night.
I twist on my side, snuggling into him, amazed at how okay I am with this. I’ve never slept in a bed with a man before, and I wasn’t sure how I would feel. But I like this. I like how much closer I feel to Keanu. How protected I feel in his muscular arms. “K?” I snuggle closer to him.
“Yes, babe?”
I smile at his endearment. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and if it’s any consolation, I hurt myself just as much.” He doesn’t say anything for a couple minutes, but his heart is thudding like crazy under my ear.
“I don’t like hearing that, because if you were experiencing even a tenth of the pain I felt, I hate you felt that.” His lips skim the top of my head again, and I melt into the mattress, my heart brimming with emotion. A shuddering breath leaves his lips. “I want to talk about it. Why you did it, but not in the middle of the night. And not when you’ve got this other stuff to deal with.” His lips meet my hair again, and I squeeze my eyes shut, savoring the feel of him against me, comforting me, loving me.
“Okay,” I concede, “but I just need to tell you one thing.” I’m not sure where this courage is coming from, but I don’t stop to question it. Angling my head, I stare up at him, and our eyes meet. “I love you,” I whisper. “It was never about me not loving you.” My lip wobbles as I watch his eyes turn glassy. My heart is whirling like an out-of-control spinning top on a bumpy surface.
Releasing Keanu Page 6