The Difference

by Kaylee Ryan

  Me: Yes.

  * * *

  No point in beating around the bush. I really think I can show her. It’s going to take some time, but I have a feeling, one deep in my gut, she’s worth it. I’ve always followed my gut instinct and I’m not going to stop now.

  * * *

  Addyson: Enjoy the rest of your day, Luke.

  * * *

  Me: You too, Addy.

  * * *

  I toss my phone back on my desk and make myself focus on the designs in front of me. Two more days, I remind myself. Two more days until I see her in the flesh. I hope she’s ready.

  Two days later, I’m walking into Stagger fifteen minutes early. I spot Justin at a booth in the back, the same booth the girls were sitting at the night we met them.

  “Hey, man,” he says as I slide into the booth across from him.

  “They on their way?”

  “Yeah, Harper was stopping to pick Addyson up.”

  “Did you get the final plans for the Covington project?” I ask him. I was in meetings all day and didn’t hear if they finalized the most recent set of plans.

  “Yeah, right as I was leaving the office. I figure I’ll take a look at it at some point this weekend.”

  “Took them long enough,” I say. We’ve been working on this project for over a year. It’s a custom home, and Mrs. Covington keeps changing her mind.

  “Let’s hope it’s finished, so we can send it to the builder and be done with it.”

  “Right? Now I know why Robert told them our build teams were booked solid. He wasn’t kidding.”

  “Look at you boy scouts,” Addyson’s voice greets me. I look over at her. “If you’re trying to score brownie points, it’s working,” she teases, sliding into the booth next to me.

  “Hey, Harper,” I greet her friend who waves then gives all her attention to Justin. I turn to look at Addyson. Her dark hair hangs loosely over her shoulders, the silky strands begging for me to bury my hands in it. “How was your day, dear?” I ask her.

  “Long,” she sighs. “I have a little girl I’ve been working with for months, and just as she shows progress, something happens at home to set her back. I had to talk to CPS today. They have to get her out of there.”

  “Sounds tough.”

  “Yeah. I love my job. Speech therapy was something I had to do as a kid, and my therapist was the best. That’s what led me to follow in her footsteps. For the most part, it’s straightforward, but there are those kids who you see starting to come out of their shell, and then bam, they clam right up again. That’s the bad part of the job.”

  “Sounds like you could use a drink.”

  “Definitely. Harp, I’ll go. What do you want?”

  “Surprise me,” Harper tells her.

  “You guys need anything?”

  “I’ll come with you.” I go to follow her out of the booth, but she puts her hands up stopping me.

  “I can manage, Prescott. Tell me what you want.” I love this feisty side of her.

  “Two bottles of bud,” Justin answers for me.

  Asshole.

  “I’ll be back.” She smiles and saunters off to the bar. Every motherfucker in here watches her.

  “You’re about to break a molar,” Justin jokes.

  I ignore him and keep my eyes locked on her. It’s not until a soft hand covers mine that I turn away. “Hey.” Harper smiles. “She’s a big girl. She can handle herself.”

  “She shouldn’t have to,” I grit out.

  “That may be, but she always has. Addyson has had the worst luck with men. We laugh about it, but it’s changed her. The harder you shove, the harder she does.”

  “Trust me, I know,” I grumble.

  “Here you go,” Addyson says a few minutes later. She sets four bottles of beer on the table and takes her seat next to me.

  “Straight outta the bottle, huh?” I ask her.

  “Is there any other way?”

  “Depends, are you asking the current me or the broke college student me?”

  “I’m certain our answers are going to be the same. College was stale beer from a keg and cheap wine.”

  “Not much of a wine drinker, at least not back then,” I confess.

  “Do you have a choice in college?” She chuckles. “I mean, cheap wine and cheap beer are what it’s all about, right?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Right, I’m sure you were one of those looking for a new hookup every night.”

  “Not every night. I wasn’t an angel, but I can guarantee you I know where my dick has been.”

  She looks over the table at Justin. “You’ll give me the dirt, right?” She bats those long eyelashes at him.

  “No dirt.” Justin shrugs. “He was a nose to the grindstone kinda guy. Didn’t party too hard, and he was… selective.” He turns to look at Harper. “We both were. Are,” he adds as an afterthought.

  “So, Harper.” I raise my beer to her. “Congrats on the new job.”

  “Thank you.” Her smile is wide.

  Justin lifts his beer with one hand and places the other around her shoulders. Instead of congratulating her where we can hear, he leans down and whispers something just for her. Her smile remains, but her blush tells me more than I need to know.

  “Oh, Addy, I forgot to tell you, guess who’s coming to town?” Harper asks excitedly.

  “Santa Clause?” Addy smirks.

  “Ha ha, smartass. No, Dan + Shay. I tried to get us tickets, but they’re already sold out.”

  “What? Already? That’s crazy.”

  I look over at Justin, and he gives me a subtle nod. He’s definitely thinking what I’m thinking.

  “Big Dan + Shay fan?” he asks Harper.

  “We both are,” she tells him. This time it’s Justin’s eyes finding mine, and I’m the one giving him a subtle nod.

  Justin has connections, like tickets-to-a-sold-out-concert connections. With a phone call, he can make it happen, and I know without a doubt he’s going to.

  A couple of hours later, after the girls have tossed back more drinks than I can count, we’re sliding out of the booth to head home. I stopped at two beers hours ago. I noticed Justin did the same, the ladies however indulged themselves. “How are you getting home?” I ask Addyson.

  “Harp drove.” She looks up at me. Her eyes are glassy, and she is, without a doubt, in no shape to drive.

  “I’m taking them home,” Justin says. “I’ll bring Harper back in the morning to get her car.”

  “Does that mean you’re staying?” Harper asks him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  “Yeah, I can’t leave you alone like this.”

  “Hel-lo.” Addyson waves her hand in the air. “I’ll be there.” She points to her chest.

  “How about I take you home?” I offer. I’ll take any chance I can to be alone with her, even if she’s passed-out cold. In fact, that idea sounds more and more appealing. I can memorize her features. I don’t know when I’ll see her again, and that bothers me. It’s a new development, but it’s only Addyson. No one before her has ever brought these kinds of feelings out of me.

  She taps her index finger to her chin and wobbles on her feet. Reaching out, I settle my hands on her hips to steady her. “No f-funny business, mister sexy and I know it.”

  I don’t even try to hold in my laughter.

  “It’s not funny,” she scolds. “You’re just like that song.” She turns to her best friend. “Harp, who sings that song? That sexy and I know it song, that’s Lucas.” She leans in and rests her head against my chest.

  Harper is pretty much in the same position. “Laugh my fucking ass off.” Harper giggles.

  “LMFAO,” Justin translates for her.

  “Yeah.” Addyson points toward them, but her face is still buried in my chest. “This guy.” She lays her palms flat against my chest. “He’s sexy and he knows it.”

  I bite down on my lip, holding back my laughter. “Let’s get you h
ome, funny girl,” I tell her.

  “I’ll get her home,” I assure Justin.

  “Thanks, man.” With extreme patience, we manage to help the girls stagger out of Stagger, the name suddenly fitting the establishment perfectly.

  I help her into my truck and her eyes immediately close as she rests her head against the seat. I take a minute to study her. She looks like an angel with her porcelain skin and all that sexy-as-fuck hair of hers. Carefully, I close the door, closing her inside.

  She’s still sleeping peacefully when I pull up to her condo. Reaching for her purse, I dig around until I find her keys. Throwing her purse over my shoulder, I exit the truck, and carefully open her door. Making quick work of unlatching her seat belt, I lift her into my arms.

  “Smell good,” she mumbles.

  “You think so?” I ask her, amused.

  “Mmm,” is her reply.

  I’m not sure how I do it, but I manage to get the door unlocked and both of us inside her condo without dropping her. Kicking the door shut, I drop her keys on the floor and use my elbow to flip the light switch. I take in my surroundings—living room, kitchen, small dining area, and a dark hallway. I head in that direction, stopping to look in the first room, which appears to be a bathroom. The next door on the opposite side of the hall is a bedroom, but it’s sparse. I keep walking to the door at the end of the hall. When I push open the door, I know immediately it’s her room. Her lavender scent engulfs me.

  Making my way to the bed with nothing but the glow of the moonlight to guide me, I step cautiously. When my knees hit the bed, I carefully lay her on the soft mattress. Reaching over to the nightstand, I turn on the lamp, which casts a soft, warm glow in the room.

  Her eyes flutter open, and she stares up at me. “Luke?”

  “You’re home,” I tell her. “Let’s get these shoes off you.” Stepping to the end of the bed, I work on unstrapping one sandal, then the other from her feet. She wiggles her teal-painted toes once I’m done.

  “Harper?” she asks.

  “Justin’s with her.”

  “He’s nice.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. He is my best friend after all. Leaving her on the bed, I make my way back to the kitchen for a bottle of water and some headache medicine. She’s going to need it. I find the medicine in the second cabinet I try, and as I suspected, her fridge is stocked with bottles of water.

  “Addyson,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Can you wake up for me? I need you to take these.”

  “Just say no to drugs, Luke,” she slurs. She’s going for scolding me, but she fails miserably.

  “Just say no. Got it. Can you sit up for me?” I stand and help lift her off the bed.

  “Oh,” she moans. “That’s—” she swallows hard, and I know what’s next.

  With quick reflexes, I scoop her up in my arms and rush to the en-suite bathroom. She’s barely on her feet before she’s dropping to her knees and losing the contents of her stomach. I scramble to hold back her hair, while gently caressing her back.

  “Ugh,” she groans, resting her head on the edge of the toilet.

  “You good now?” I ask her.

  “You should go. This isn’t sexy.”

  “You’re sexy.” She is. Even in this moment, I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful than her.

  “I’m done,” she says, attempting to stand.

  I release her silky strands, stand, and lift her into my arms. “I’ve got you.”

  “You’re taking care of me?” she questions.

  “Looks like it.”

  “Thank you.”

  I set her back on the bed, and she falls back against the pillows. “I’m going to go grab a trash can.” I don’t even know if she hears me. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is deep and even. Grabbing the trash can from the bathroom, I place it next to the bed. “Addyson, I need you to take these for me.” Sliding my arm under her, I lift her up. Her eyes pop open.

  “Sleepy.”

  “I know, beautiful, but you need to take these. You’ll thank me in the morning. I promise.” She nods, which is more of letting her head fall forward. When she lifts it back up, her mouth is open like a baby bird. I toss the pills into her mouth and hold the open bottle of water to her lips. I slowly pour some into her mouth, and she swallows. “One more drink. The more water we get in you, the better.” She opens again, and I pour more water into her mouth. This time once she swallows, she falls back against the bed and groans. Placing the lid back on the bottle, I set it on the nightstand.

  “You need anything?” I ask, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

  “The room is spinning,” she says, rolling over to her belly.

  “It’ll stop. Just breathe through it.” Gently, I run my fingers up and down her back. Several minutes pass, and from her silence, I’m assuming she’s asleep. I debate on what I should do. I hate leaving her here like this all alone. What if something happens? Eyeing the chair in the corner of the room, I decide to stay for a couple of hours just to make sure she’s going to be okay. Making my way back out to the living room, I pick up the keys that I dropped, setting them on the small table just inside the door. I lock the door, kick off my shoes, turn off the lights, and head back to her room.

  Chapter Seven

  Addyson

  * * *

  There’s a jackhammer in my head. That’s the only logical excuse for the way my head is throbbing. Slowly, I peel open one eye at a time, testing my vision. I blink a few times until the room comes into focus. My mouth tastes like I ate a dead animal, and I’m dry as if I’d been sucking on cotton. “Why did I drink so much?” I whine, rolling over on my side. I see a bottle of water and I reach for it, twisting off the cap and lifting my head only high enough off the pillow to drink greedily.

  “You might want to slow down,” a deep voice warns, causing me to scream and drop the bottle of water. Thankfully, it was almost empty.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask as my heart leaps in my chest. Why is he in my room?

  He sits up from the chair in the corner and stretches his arms over his head. “I brought you home. You were pretty messed up. I was just going to stay a couple of hours and make sure you were okay. I fell asleep.” He shrugs.

  “Thank you.” Slowly I sit up in bed. “Harper?” I ask him. I can only imagine what I look like. I might not be interested in dating anyone, but when there’s a man, a sexy man like Lucas Prescott in your room the morning after you pass out drunk, a girl frets over her appearance.

  “Justin took care of her.”

  “I hope I wasn’t awful,” I say, hiding my face behind my hands. He chuckles. “How bad?” I ask, dropping my hands.

  “Not too bad. You got sick, which is why I stayed to make sure you were okay.”

  “I never drink like that. One time in college and I swore I’d never do it again.”

  “You were celebrating.”

  “Yeah.” I smile, thinking about my best friend and her promotion. She’s busted her ass to get where she is.

  I watch as he stands and stretches again. His T-shirt rises, and I can clearly see his toned abs. “Addyson,” he says sternly. My eyes pop up to his. “You can’t look at me like that,” he growls.

  “Like what?” Yeah, I’m playing the denial card.

  “Like you want me. I’m a man, and you’re sitting there all sexy from sleep. I only have so much restraint.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but my words seem to be lodged in my throat. “I—”

  “Get moving. I’m going to borrow some toothpaste. Then I’m taking you to breakfast.”

  “Lucas, no, you’ve already done too much,” I protest. It’s weak at best. The more time I spend with him, the more I want to be around him. Slowly, I can feel my resolve start to crumble.

  “Fine, you can take me to breakfast.” He grins as he heads toward the bathroom.

  “There are extra toothbrushes under the sink,” I call out. I always get them when I go to the den
tist, and I have one of those fancy electric ones. Harper has used my stash more times than I can count.

  “Thanks, now get moving,” he calls out through the bathroom door.

  “You’re in my bathroom.”

  “I’ll be done in a minute,” he calls back.

  Climbing out of bed, I gather some clothes and wait for him to come out of the bathroom. “All yours,” he says a few minutes later when he steps out.

  Twenty minutes later, we’re climbing into his truck and headed toward the local diner. “Sorry about last night. I promise that’s not me.”

  He glances over at me before turning his eyes back on the road. “No need. We’ve all been there.”

  “Regardless, you didn’t have to take care of me. And… sleep in the chair in my room.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “No, it was something. Thank you.” He could have gotten in bed with me, taken advantage of me, but he didn’t. He could have left me there on my own, but he cared enough to make sure I was okay. A little piece of my hardened heart thaws at that realization.

  He nods as he pulls his truck in front of the diner and kills the engine. “Nothing like greasy food for a hangover.”

  “Ummm… I’m thinking pancakes.” I grin.

  “The lady wants pancakes, pancakes she shall have.” He opens his door and climbs out of the truck. I do the same, meeting him on the sidewalk. He places his hand on the small of my back, like he’s done every time I’ve been with him. His touch is warm, and to my surprise, not unwelcome. Guiding us to the door, he reaches in front of me and opens it, ushering me inside.

  “So, tell me more about your job,” he asks, relaxing back into the booth. We both just ordered a huge stack of pancakes with a side of bacon.

  “I love it. I was in speech therapy as a kid, and my therapist, Miss Susie, she was amazing. She made an embarrassing, difficult situation fun. I want to be that for someone.”

  “Do you still talk to her?”

  “I do actually. In high school, we had to do this project on where you see yourself in five years. Then you had to find someone in that field and shadow them for a day. I reached out to Susie, and that day I spent with her sealed my fate.”