by Sierra Hill
I try to keep it as vague as possible, not wanting to divulge what I know or anything about Peyton’s identity. The truth of the matter is, I’m probably overstepping my bounds in a big way. But I care about Peyton deeply and want to help her out of this situation if I have the means to do it.
“Yeah, of course. But my attorney is a family and divorce lawyer, and I don’t think Bob would take a case in California. And isn’t L.A. teeming with more attorneys per capita than actors?”
I have to laugh at this because that’s the truth. “Yes, but this is a family matter in Phoenix. In fact, she’s a student at ASU.”
“Huh, what a weird coincidence. Okay, I can send you his contact info after we’re done here. He’s a decent guy, if not a bulldog. I’m sure he’ll be able to help your intern handle matters.”
“Great, thanks bro. And hey, I’m flying in later this evening. I’ll stop by if I have time.”
We say our goodbyes and end the call, with the promise to call or text when I can. I’m not really sure how I’ll be spending my time while there, but I do hope I can catch up with him.
I close my suitcase and set it on the ground, checking around to make sure I have everything before I leave. Satisfied that I haven’t left any of my belongings behind, I head out the door and off to my awaiting cab.
All the while, I hope that Peyton will be happy about my surprise arrival in Phoenix and worry that I’m overstepping into creepy territory.
Am I doing the right thing?
Chapter 29
Peyton
“Peyton, honey. I’m so grateful to have you here. I’ve missed you so much.”
My mom squeezes me in a hug for the hundredth time in the past two hours and swipes away a tear at the corner of her familiar blue eyes.
Although I share more physical traits with my biological father, it’s my blue eyes that I got from my mother. The eyes that for half my life were hazy with booze-induced gazes but are finally clear and sober now.
I’m proud of my mom for finally accepting the truth about her drinking problem and her relationship with Dave. Had she gone back to him after he put her in the hospital, I would probably have disowned her. While I would always love her, I couldn’t sit by and condone the choices she made when I knew they weren’t good for her.
“Do you have everything you need?” I ask her, looking over the boxes and bags she’s packed and has ready to move to a temporary living situation. “And are you sure you don’t just want to stay with us?”
I’m referring to the apartment I share with Kyler. He and I spoke on the way over to my mom’s that she was welcome to live with us until she found a new permanent place.
“No baby, I’ll be fine. Honestly. The YWCA of Maricopa offers up temporary accommodations for women in abusive relationships who need a short-term secure living situation. In fact, I can’t even tell you where I’ll be staying.”
Her eyes glance downward as if she’s guilty, instead of the victim who’s been placed in this circumstance by none of her own doing.
“Mama, please,” I beg, not wanting my mom to feel guilt over any of this. “I just want you safe, happy and sober. But if you need it, you’re welcome to stay with us anytime.”
I glance over quickly to see if she reacted in any way to the use of the word sober, but from the looks of things, she’s completely at ease with it. Before any of this happened, it was a dirty word and she denied having a problem with sobriety or drinking.
We all pick up a box and trudge toward the open doorway on our way down to the parking lot. We don’t have the money to pay for a moving van or help, so it’s all going in my mom’s truck.
As we pass through the doorway, I add, “And, unless I’m fired for leaving my job unexpectedly, you’ll have my room available to you when I go back to Los Angeles this week. But I’m not leaving until we have you settled, and the restraining order is renewed.”
The restraining order in question is the one that was automatically cancelled and expired while Dave was in prison. Little did my mother realize that the restraining order she’d filed after Dave’s arrest and imprisonment over a year ago had expired during the time he was locked up. She hadn’t thought to worry about it during the time he was away since he didn’t pose a threat to her from inside prison.
But guess what? He’s a free man again, and that restraining order is the only legal leverage she has for protection.
Besides this move.
My mom sets the box in the back of her truck and wipes the sweat from her brow and then squints at me, her hand casting a shadow over her face.
“Don’t be silly, honey. I’ve got that part handled and the name of an officer at the precinct that I can speak with if I need to. I don’t want you worrying about it. You should be focused on getting back to your job and making a great first impression on the company and its leaders.”
A choking sound comes from Kyler as our eyes lock together over the truck. His expression is filled with mirth and I can tell what he’s thinking. He’s being a dirty minded perv. I scrunch my face at him.
And because he’s Kyler, he has this profound need to stir the pot with sarcasm and innuendo. “Oh, I know with certainty that Peyton has made a really great impression on the CEO. What did you say his name was, Pey-Pey?”
My mom leans into the truck bed, shifting boxes over to make room for more and I silently flip him the bird behind her back and mouth, “Shut the eff up.”
He smirks and returns to handing my mom another box, humming something to himself as he does. My mom, oblivious to all of this, responds back.
“Oh, that’s so good, honey. I’m sure they see how dedicated and talented you are. I mean, why else would they have flown you all the way to New York City to attend that fancy conference?”
Hmm, why indeed?
The entire situation now makes me feel queasy. I want to believe with all my heart that Brody really does see something in me from a professional stance, and that he didn’t manipulate the situation just to get me alone and into my pants. I also want to believe he’s being truthful when he says he’s never had an office affair with anyone who’s worked with him.
But I’m having trouble reconciling it all, especially with how casually he left me this morning while I slept without even saying goodbye before he went to meet up with another woman. A woman who was obviously intimately familiar with Brody based on how cozy they looked together.
A sharp jab in my heart wakes me up to the fact that I am responsible for putting myself in this predicament. I suppose it’s true that Brody pursued me a little, but he made it very clear that he didn’t want to hurt our working relationship or cause gossip. I’m the one who chased him down and begged him to sleep with me.
Oh god, I’m such a harlot.
Is that even possible? A virgin harlot? Anyway, I feel like a fool.
When we return to the nearly empty apartment, I grab a throw pillow still on the couch and before placing it in a bag, I bang my head with it, much to the amusement of Kyler who stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
And perhaps I have. I’ve lost it over Brody and the stupidity of my actions.
We work for the next several hours until my mom is satisfied that she has everything she needs. She’ll continue to pay the lease on this place, and I’ve offered to help her with the additional rent once she finds a new apartment and a storage facility.
There’ll never be a guarantee that Dave won’t track her down or find her. Although she’s changed employers since he went to jail, and has moved and changed her name, there’s still boundless opportunities for him to get her new information. She’ll always have to be looking over her shoulder and vigilant, a fact that saddens me to no end.
“Okay, I think I’m ready.” My mom loads up her arms with the remaining bags and nods her head to me and Kyler. “I can’t thank you two enough for your help. Now off you both go to have some fun tonight, even if it’s just ordering a pizza and drinking some wine.”
We hug our goodbyes and she promises to call me when she’s in her place and safe for the night. Tomorrow we’ve planned to meet up at the Maricopa Police Department to renew the protection order.
“I love you, mama. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She waves at us both as she gets in her car and drives off, while Kyler turns to me, squinting with suspicion.
“Are you not going to tell your own mom about Brody?”
I open the passenger door of his car, shaking my head as I get in.
“Hell no. I’m not going to add anything additional to my mom’s plate right now. All she needs to know is that I’m doing well with the internship and I’m learning a lot.”
He snickers as he pulls out of the parking space, heading toward the main road on our way home to our apartment.
“Oh, girl. Your education and real-world experience in this internship have gone way beyond what you could ever have learned in the classroom,” he gives me a scandalous wink. “And Brody is measuring up to be the perfect mentor.”
Chapter 30
Brody
The orange horizon is beginning to morph into a dusty pink rose and purple hue as the sun lowers against the backdrop of the desert mountains.
I’ve been patiently waiting on Peyton’s apartment steps for the last hour, hoping she’ll be coming home at some point tonight. I hadn’t thought through the scenarios that she might actually be staying with her mother.
Just as the thought flashes through my mind, I hear laughter coming from a couple who just pulled up in the parking lot and got out of their car.
Their faces are blurred due to the onset of nightfall and suddenly I’m consumed with the smell of hot pizza and my stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I haven’t had a bite to eat since this morning, except for a few snacks and a beer on the plane.
The guy comes up in front, blocking my view of the girl, holding the pizza in his hands.
“Hey,” he greets, giving me a nod of his chin. “You can’t loiter here, dude.”
I’m about to express my apologies but as I stand to move out of the way, I hear a gasp and then my name.
“Brody?”
And then there’s a collective gasp, as the three of us take each other in. I straighten to my full height and dust off the back of my pants with my hands, my lower back tweaking just a bit as it groans from the move. My gaze lands on Peyton, who looks more than a little shocked and exhausted, but I greedily drink her in like a sailor coming home from sea longing for land. Flicking a glance to the guy carrying the pizza box, I find him staring at me with a look of curious interest and part disdain based on the way his jaw drops open.
Is this her boyfriend? Did she ever mention having a boyfriend?
Did she lie to me about not being with anyone?
Peyton seems to snap out of it and crosses her arms in a defensive posture, holding herself firm as if preparing for battle.
“Brody, what the heck are you doing here?”
It’s been a very long day. An early morning meeting, a sleepless night. A presentation to a thousand-person audience. And finally, a cross-country flight. Maybe I’ve lost it because for a moment, I can’t find words to justify why I am here.
I finally find my voice, a tad gruffer than normal, lifting a shoulder and sweeping my palms outward toward her. “I’m here for you. You had me worried and I want to be here to help you and your mother.”
The guy makes a sound like someone would make after watching those sweet animal videos on YouTube of a mama lamb helping her wobbly baby to its feet with her nose. I snap my eyes to him, making him startle as he covers his mouth with his hand.
“But I see you already have all the help you need,” I spout, a little more forcefully and dipped in a vat of vinegar. “I guess I’ll be going then.”
But the man shoulders between Peyton and me, standing tall as he shifts the box to one hand and offers me the other.
“No, don’t leave. You two need to talk. I’m Kyler Scott, by the way. Peyton’s roommate and friend.” He flips his head over his shoulder to gesture toward a still shocked Peyton, who nervously chews on her bottom lip.
I shake Kyler’s hand. “Brody Jensen.”
Kyler’s brows spike upwards and lips twitch into a shrewd smirk. “I know. And you just won points – lots and lots of points – for showing up all Jerry Maguire-esque.”
Once again, my lack of pop culture knowledge leaves me in the dark, but I hope it means I did the right thing. Kyler leans in and his hand lands on top of my shoulder as he leans in closer to whisper. “I think it’s so romantic that you’re here. But Peyton has been through the ringer, so please make it right with her.”
He steps back and waves the box of pizza between us, the smell painfully reminding me of my hunger.
“Why don’t you both come upstairs and talk over dinner. I need to go to the…library to work on a paper. I’ll be gone for hours,” he elaborates before turning and taking two steps at a time up to the second-floor landing. When he’s at the top, he bends over the rail and shouts down to us. “In fact, I think I have a date tonight. I won’t be home at all.”
Peyton stifles a giggle, dropping her head to stare down at her feet. But I see the rise of the corner of her mouth when she smiles.
“Hey,” I say softly to gain her attention. “Can we go in and talk?”
She nods in agreement and I follow her up the stairs. When we get to the top, the door swings open and Kyler bursts through like the room is on fire, a backpack strapped over his shoulder and a slice of pizza in his hand.
“Gotta dart,” he sing-songs. “Be a good hostess, Pey-Pey, and offer your guest a drink. And whatever else he wants.”
His suggestiveness doesn’t go unnoticed and it’s obvious she has told him about our night in New York. He gives a casual wave as he skips toward the stairwell.
“Nice to meet you, Brody. Take good care of our girl.”
I absently wave a goodbye to him, quirking an eyebrow at Peyton as I gesture for her to enter the open doorway. I follow closely behind and close the door and turn to face her.
“He’s certainly a character.”
Peyton’s back is to me, her shoulders stooped, and the sound of her sniffles has me realizing she’s no longer giggling but crying instead. I rush behind her, hushing her, gently locking both arms around her in a protective hug.
“Baby, it’s okay. Everything will be okay.” I press my face into her neck and hug her tightly, feeling the warm weight of her as her body continues to convulse in small spastic bursts of movement.
Finally, she turns around, her breasts pressing into my chest and her sobs begin to quiet. When she looks up to me, her nose is red, eyes bloodshot and her brow is creased in a frown. But she’s breathtakingly beautiful in her vulnerability and I never want to let her go.
“I’m a mess. And you’re…” Her voice trails off quietly. I nod affirming what she’s saying. “Here.”
I take her hands, stepping backwards as I guide her to the couch behind me. Pulling her down in my lap, she comes without debate or refusal.
Her eyes pin me, swimming in a hundred different questions, as if trying to puzzle me out. I tilt my head and grin. “You’re wondering why I’m here? How I got here? How I knew where you live?”
Peyton touches the tip of her nose. “Bingo. It’s all a little strange and highly unusual. Do you stalk all your employees and interns?”
It’s meant as a joke, yet I hear the accusation laced within the comment. And if I were her, I’d probably feel the same way.
I bend down to kiss her forehead, lingering there for a bit. But I can’t just leave it at that. Slowly, my kiss travels down the side of her cheek, curving to her ear and then back around to her lips. I taste the salt from her tears and nip the corner of her mouth.
“Only you, baby.”
Peyton throws her arms around my neck. “I like this.”
“This, what?” I ask, sliding my hand from her nec
k down the length of her back, stopping at the base of her spine.
Her eyes snap closed and she hides her face against my chest, her warm breath seeping into my shirt.
She murmurs, the feel of her fingertips playing with the hair at my nape sending cords of sensation down to my dick.
“Brody, I like the way this feels between us. I just wish…” Her words trail off as if they’ve been thrown off a cliff. She inhales deeply and her fingers still clutching strands of my hair in her grip. “I just wish I wasn’t a hot mess. That I didn’t work for you. That I don’t have to worry about my mom while I’m in L.A. And, I mostly wish I didn’t feel this strongly about you.”
Although it’s a really evil thing to do to my activated cock, I shift Peyton on my lap, so she straddles my legs. I want to look at her face as we talk, even though the heat from her center reminds me how I want her tight pussy clutching my cock again.
Peyton’s hands slide around to the back of my head and my hands rest on her firm ass.
“I want to help you, if you’ll let me. I’ve already reached out to an attorney who can guide your mom on what legal action she can take to ensure her safety. And if you’re worried about her here alone while you’re in L.A., why doesn’t she come stay with you while you finish out your assignment?”
I tenderly hold her cheeks in my hands, my eyes roving over her beautiful features, brushing back the pink tips of her hair behind her ear. She’s not wearing any make-up and her hair is a little more disheveled then I’ve ever seen it. But she’s beautiful.
“As for you being a hot mess, I rather like that. It turns me on. As does knowing you feel the same way I do.”
She groans. “Brody, why are you being so good to me? It’s too much, too soon. You’re either just as crazy as I am, or a saint. I haven’t figured out which yet.”
Peyton plants her lips over mine and I take a moment to explore her mouth, our lips crushing together. Before it goes too far, I pull back, adjusting her on my lap. The friction only increases my need for more.
