Correction: when he destroys my heart.
Because he will. At this point, if it were to end, I’d be hurt. I’d be sad. It would be another shot to my already Swiss-cheesy heart.
Then again, maybe he really is different from the others. I mean, the only similarity so far is the fact that the man has music running through his veins. He’s not like the other wannabe musicians I’ve dated. He’s funny and kind, and although he can be a little cocky, he’s not an asshole.
Or is all of that a ruse?
I hang my head, face buried in a clean towel, and moan.
“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
Let’s be honest, I’ve never known what I’m doing when it comes to men. Because I’ve always been drawn to the man who was the exact opposite of what was good for me. Do I feel the need to fix them? To change them? To rescue them?
Damned if I know.
But Jake doesn’t need to be saved or fixed. He’s got his shit together. And I’m still attracted to him.
More attracted than I’ve ever been in my life.
Maybe I should talk to him. Ask him what he wants.
Except, I’ll be mortified when he just stares at me blankly, wondering what the fuck I’m talking about because, after all, this is just sex.
But, it doesn’t feel like just sex. It feels like more.
And I don’t even know why I’m getting all worked up about it because it’s still super-early, and we have lots to learn about each other, and damn Kat for making me think about this shit!
We need to find her a man so she stops worrying about me and mine.
I finish folding the towels and eye the dishes in the sink. There aren’t many, so I quickly rinse them and stack them in the dishwasher, then check the time.
I have an hour until I need to get ready for work.
My phone rings, startling me.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Aloha, darling,” she replies with a smile in her voice. “How is my sweet girl?”
“I’m good.” It’s so good to hear her voice. I’ve missed her and Dad both so much. “What are you up to? Is Dad okay?”
“He’s just fine,” she assures me. “He’s napping on the balcony, as usual.”
I smile. Every afternoon, my dad sits on the balcony that looks out over the Pacific and falls asleep. He says he’s brainstorming lectures for class.
Sure he is.
“And what are you up to?”
“I was just thinking about you. How is the restaurant going?” I hear her munching on something crunchy on the other end of the line.
“It’s so great, Mom.” I tell her all about hiring Jake, and how our business has boomed in the past two months. “In fact, we’re thinking of buying the space next to ours—it’s for sale—and expanding. You should come visit! I’d love to show it to you.”
“That all sounds fantastic, Addie! I’m so proud of you. You know your dad and I would come visit in a heartbeat, but we were just at your aunt Judy’s place in Sacramento, so another trip to the mainland is a few months off yet.”
“You were at Aunt Judy’s?” I ask with a frown. “When?”
“Oh, just a couple of weeks ago. It was a quick trip.”
“It’s a thirty-minute flight from me, and you didn’t think to let me know you were there? I would have come to see you, or you could have come up here.”
“Really, Addie, it was a quick trip. You’re being a bit dramatic.”
Dramatic? Tears prick my eyes as I sit on the edge of the couch. They were hours from me. I haven’t seen them since the grand opening of Seduction more than six months ago, and I miss them.
But I’m being dramatic.
I just want my mama.
“Addie? Are you there, darling?”
“I’m here.”
“I see your father stirring. I’d better start making lunch. It was so good to hear your voice. Keep me posted on the expansion, okay?”
“Oh, can I say hi to Daddy real quick?”
“You know how he is after his nap, darling. I’ll tell him you send your love.”
He doesn’t want to talk to me.
“Okay. Love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, baby.”
I hang up and swipe angrily at the tears falling down my cheek. It’s stupid to have my feelings hurt. I’m an adult. They don’t have to check in with me every time they come to the mainland, for crying out loud.
But it would have been good to see them. And the fact that they didn’t think to call me does hurt my feelings.
Just once in this life I’d like to feel like I’m someone’s priority. That I matter.
My parents love me, I know that. But they’re doing their own thing now, which is what they should do.
I don’t even know why I’m upset. They didn’t do anything wrong.
I’m definitely moody. Maybe I’m hormonal. One thing is for sure, for the first time since we opened our doors, I’m not looking forward to work tonight. I don’t want to go in. I want to stay home, eat pizza, and watch girl movies.
And why shouldn’t I do exactly that? I have hired an excellent staff. I have four partners who know the place inside out. I don’t have to be there every damn day.
Before I overthink it, I call Kat.
“Don’t ever let me go to yoga again,” she says immediately. “They make you fold yourself into poses that just aren’t natural. I’m pretty sure I strained an eyebrow.”
“An eyebrow?”
“And a calf. Maybe my wrist, I’m not sure.”
“There is a point to my call,” I say.
“Oh, right. What’s up?”
“I’m not coming in to work tonight.”
Silence. Finally, after a long pause, she says, “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t stutter,” I reply and sniffle. “I’m not coming in.”
“Hey, does this have anything to do with our conversation earlier? Because after I gave it some thought, I realized that I was pretty hard on you. I’m sorry. I just love you and I want to make sure you’re happy.”
I love you too. This only makes the tears come harder.
“No, it’s not you,” I lie. “I just think it’s best if I stay home. You guys can handle the front of the house for one night.”
“Of course we can,” Kat assures me. “I’ll call in an extra bartender so I can bounce back and forth. It won’t be a problem at all.”
“Thank you.”
“Addie? You’d tell me if you’re upset because of me, right? Because I don’t ever want to hurt your feelings.”
“Of course.” Probably not. “I’m just gonna take some time for myself.”
“Okay. Let us know if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up and sigh deeply. First things first. I need a shower, then I’m going to order pizza and break into the emergency tub of chocolate peanut butter ice cream I have in the back of the freezer and settle in to watch movies.
Alone.
SO MUCH FOR being alone.
When I got out of the shower, I had four missed calls. Kat clearly can’t keep her trap shut.
Since then, they all, and by all I mean all, including Cici, have been texting me, asking me if I’m okay. What’s wrong. Do I need anything.
They’re driving me crazy, and making me love them even more.
It’s weird.
I’ve eaten four slices of New York–style pizza and am thinking about firing up the oven and baking some of the ready-to-bake chocolate chip cookies I have in the fridge when the doorbell rings.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
I pause my movie and stomp across the condo. “Seriously, you didn’t have to come! You bitches need to get a life and stop worrying about me.”
I yank the door open and stop short when I’m staring at a very broad, very muscular T-shirt-covered chest. My eyes travel up to Jake’s face and narrow as a slow, sexy smile spreads over his face.
God, that smile freaking kills me. All he has to do is smile and I’m a pile of mushy goo.
Except, not today.
“Why are you here?”
The smile doesn’t leave his face as he leans his shoulder against the doorjamb. His eyes lower to my chest and his smile widens.
I glance down and sigh at the sight of tomato sauce on my white tank top, and then realize that I’m only wearing the tank and some red panties.
Because I’m being lazy.
Alone.
I roll my eyes and turn away, walking back into my living room. My blankie is in a wad in the middle of the couch, the pizza box on the ottoman, open, with three empty Diet Coke cans sitting next to the uneaten portion of the pizza.
Which I fully intend to eat before the night is out.
“Look, Jake, I’m not really fit for company tonight.”
“It looks like you’re having quite the party,” he comments as he follows me inside. He’s carrying a grocery bag. “I brought ice cream and what I’ve been told is your favorite wine.”
God, I love Kat.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” he agrees as he saunters all sexy-like into my kitchen and stows the ice cream in the freezer, then finds a wineglass and pours me some wine. “But I don’t like the thought of you being here, unhappy, alone.”
“I’m not unhappy. I’m moody.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at Jake. God, I look horrific. Can’t a girl have a pity party for one in peace?
“I won’t bother you.” His eyes have sobered, and he’s staring at me now, waiting for me to kick him the hell out.
Which I’m sure I should do. Right now. I have a movie to watch, wine to drink, and pizza to eat.
But instead I sit on the couch and gesture for him to sit on the opposite side.
“I’m watching a girl movie,” I inform him. “And I’m not changing it.”
“Good plan.”
“And I’m eating lots of food, and I’ll probably belch. I’m not very pretty tonight.”
“You’re always gorgeous, and none of that offends me.” His lips twitch as he sits, not touching me. His hands are clenching in and out of fists, and I can tell he wants to pull me to him, but he’s respecting my need for some space.
So, I resume the movie, offer him a slice of pizza, and we sit in silence as we watch The Fault in Our Stars. This movie always makes me cry. Always.
Especially just before the very end. God, it’s a shot to the heart.
But Jake pulls my feet into his lap and just rubs them firmly. He doesn’t pat my leg and say, “It’s only a movie.”
He simply stays with me.
When the movie ends, I flip off the TV, wipe my eyes, and turn to look at Jake, who’s still rubbing my feet.
“You’re good at the girl’s-night-in thing.”
“My best friend since I was fifteen years old is a girl,” he replies with a smile. “I’ve had a little practice.”
I return his smile, finally feeling somewhat better. I’m glad he has Christina. I’m glad that she’s been there for him, through everything.
True friends are hard to find.
“She seems nice.” I lean my head against the back of the couch and watch his strong hands as they move up and down my legs.
“She’s awesome,” he replies. “And speaking of her, she wanted me to ask you if you’d like to come for dinner at her house sometime in the next week. I’m supposed to find out what night works best for you.”
“Isn’t it a bit early to meet the family?” I ask sarcastically, and frantically try to come up with a reason that I shouldn’t go. This makes things . . . serious.
“Look at me.” I oblige, and immediately feel like a bitch when I see the concern and a little hurt in his amazing green eyes. “What do you have to be afraid of? You’ve already met her.”
“This will be different,” I whisper.
“It’ll be on her turf instead of yours,” he guesses correctly. I simply shrug. “Life happens outside of our comfort zones, sweetness. And she wants to spend some time with you. Not because she’s uberprotective of me, but because she loves me and she knows you’re important to me, so she wants to get to know you a bit.”
“I get it. If the girls didn’t get to interact with you at the restaurant, they’d want the same thing. They may want you to hang with us outside of work anyway, now that I think of it.”
“Of course they will, they love me.” He smiles. “Really, Addie, this isn’t a huge deal. She’s my friend. We’ll just go have dinner and you can get to know each other. You’ll like her.”
“I already do,” I admit, pleating the blanket in my lap. “Both she and Kevin seem really great.”
“So what night should I tell her?” he asks with a wink.
“Well, since I’m playing hooky tonight, let’s say Sunday night?”
“Works for me,” he replies.
“How did the other song go on Monday with Steve?”
He tilts his head in surprise. “It was good. It’ll be a hit for him.”
“I’m glad.” I nod and flip through the movie channels, looking for another girl movie.
“Thank you.”
My eyes whip to his. “For what?”
“For asking.”
He squeezes my foot once, then lets go and I crawl across the couch to him. I still don’t want to be held, but I lay my head in his lap and sigh when he runs his fingers through my hair.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“Being here. Even though I didn’t know I wanted you here.”
His hand pauses for a moment, then resumes brushing gently through my hair.
“You don’t ever have to thank me for being here.”
“And you don’t ever have to thank me for asking.”
Chapter Ten
Jake
She’s a mess tonight, and I wish I knew why. I wish I knew what put the sad in her blue eyes. Why are her shoulders slumped? Why does my usually strong girl seem so defeated tonight?
I know her well enough to hold off on the questions. Right now, she just needs me here, and I’m happy to sit through a dozen sappy movies, eat as much pizza as she wants, and simply be here with her until she feels better.
Her hair is soft in my fingers. She’s turned on another movie, a romantic comedy with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds this time. I wonder if she knows that Hard Knox has two songs on this soundtrack?
Probably not.
She laughs when Ryan’s character spills coffee all over himself, and makes a coworker trade shirts with him.
God, I love her laugh. She needs to laugh more often.
I saw a vulnerable side to Addie tonight that I’m pretty sure she rarely lets anyone see. It makes sense that she would be nervous to spend time with my best friend away from the comfort of Seduction, but I forget that Addie has a vulnerable side, because she’s so good at showing everyone how confident she is.
And I know it’s not an act. She is confident. But today, something threw her off her game, and it makes my heart hurt for her.
Addie lets out a little snore, making me grin. God, she’s adorable. I’m glad she fell asleep. She needs it.
And I’m not staying tonight. Because that’s not what she needs from me tonight. She barely wanted me to touch her, and it took everything in me not to simply scoop her up and hold her.
I have a feeling that the foot rubs and hair strokes were a big step for my girl.
I grin down at her blond head and brush my fingers down her smooth neck.
Mine.
Yes, she’s mine. Whether that’s for the short term, or for the long haul, I’m not sure yet, but I know that the thought of another man putting his hands on her makes me want to punch someone.
And that reaction doesn’t happen often for me.
I gently slide out from under Addie and replace my lap with a couch pil
low. She stirs and smiles up at me, making my heart catch.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”
“It’s okay, baby.” I kiss her forehead and then her cheek as I cover her with the blanket she’s been curled up in all night. “Just sleep.”
But she’s already breathing long and deep, hugging the pillow to her. I turn the TV off, and leave a single lamp burning, in case she wakes up and wants to go in to bed.
Before I walk out the door, I glance back at the woman curled up on the couch and feel my heart catch. God, she’s amazing.
And she’s mine.
Once in my car, I shoot a quick text off to Christina, letting her know that Sunday night works for us, then text Kat to report that Addie is sleeping peacefully.
When I got the call from Kat earlier, she told me that Addie needed ice cream, wine, and me.
And I didn’t ask any questions. I simply came. Because staying away isn’t an option.
The drive home is quick. Portland is quiet this evening, and the farther I drive out of town toward my house, the more it reminds me of small town America.
Which I love.
My house is dark and silent as I walk through, past the kitchen, to the piano. The song that’s been in my head since the day I saw Addie has been nagging at me, so I sit to work on it. This isn’t one that I’ll offer to another artist.
This is Addie’s. She can decide what to do with it, whether I record it for her, or we keep it just for us.
The music came first with this one. Songwriting is never the same for me. Sometimes the lyrics come first, and sometimes it’s the music.
Every time I have her in my arms, this music plays in my head. Sometimes the melody is faster, and sometimes slower, but it’s always this melody.
I reach for the sheet music I brought in from the studio last week and begin to write the notes, then grab a notebook to start jotting down lyrics and lose myself in Addie’s song.
“YOU’RE LATE,” CHRISTINA says with a smile as she answers the door on Sunday night. She takes the flowers from my hands and gestures for us to come inside. “Kevin is manning the grill.”
“It’s his fault that we’re late,” Addie says, immediately throwing me under the bus.
“Why was it my fault?” I ask with a frown. “You’re the one who couldn’t decide what to wear.”
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