Hold You Close (Seattle Sound Series Book 3)

by Alexa Padgett

  “You planned to be a spinster with a bird?”

  I glared, refusing to answer. I’d wanted Murphy, but I’d tried to move on. Alpie helped heal some of the worst of my emotional scars. On cue, Alpie climbed into my lap and shushed. Murphy waited, but I ignored him. Instead, I picked up the remote and turned on the telly.

  By three that afternoon, I strung out too tight, even my skin ached with desperate need for another pill. The stress of close quarters wore me down. While Murphy spent time at the piano—he wasn’t as bad as he’d led me to believe—and bent over his notepad, I moped. Daytime telly was horrendous, even with a million channel options. I watched two movies I couldn’t recall by name. Now, out of sheer boredom, I pulled out my laptop, planning to start searching for a new house.

  Murphy’s phone beeped again, the seventh such text. I’d peeked at one earlier—it was a former lover. Three other women called him, but he brushed them off easier than old lint. My scowl deepened as he sighed, mumbling something about territorial craziness. Oh, so the women were crazy for thinking the sex meant something?

  I slammed my laptop shut. Murphy glanced up from his notebook, pulling the sleek black spectacles from his nose. I huffed out a breath, annoyed by how sexy the man was, even in eyewear. Hell, there was nothing he didn’t look good in. Kill me now.

  Everything about him screamed sex and sweaty nights—but since our talk at breakfast, he hadn’t gotten any closer to me than absolutely necessary. Ergo, he no longer found me attractive. And I suffered—suffered!—from near-constant desire laced with anxiety.

  “I want to go down to the pool,” I said.

  “All right. I’ll go with you.”

  I gritted my teeth, annoyed by his pleasantness. I was like the stray dog he couldn’t shake so he’d finally given in and let me go everywhere with him. Well, I didn’t want to go anywhere with Murphy Etsam. I didn’t want my name linked to his, and I sure as hell didn’t want people thinking we were a reconciled, happy celebrity couple. My shoulders tensed. Nothing could be further from the truth when I wasn’t even worth a pity petting. Preferably naked with lots of bumping and grinding.

  I nearly moaned before the irritation I’d been fighting all day slammed back through me. Stop thinking about sex.

  “You were engrossed. I wouldn’t want to pull you away from something important.”

  “I keep telling you, Mila. Nothing’s as important as keeping you safe.”

  I curbed the desire to jump up and down and smash things. Barely. The need still shimmered there, just under my skin. I wanted a pill, but Murphy wouldn’t give me one. I settled Alpie in her cage.

  “I need to be alone,” I bit out.

  “Well, you can’t be. I have to go with you.” He said this good-naturedly. I didn’t even warrant the annoyance of his former root buddies who were too clingy. No, Mila Trask wasn’t important enough to waste real emotions on. Not anymore.

  “I’ll take one of the guards standing outside. What’s his name? Hank. Or Lew. I’m sure either would like a change of scenery.” I stalked toward my room, contemplating how many laps I could swim before I passed out. Probably fifty.

  Murphy coughed, and I near-panted with want. I was a bloody hot mess.

  “They are not seeing you in your swimsuit,” Murphy said, his voice curt. “They’ll have permanent hard-ons and won’t be able to watch anything but your breasts bobbing in the water.”

  I whirled back toward him, eyebrow raised. “A fantasy that you’ve played out probably a million times in the last year with a million different women. So if it’s a perk of their babysitting job, so be it.”

  He stood and stretched. “You’re in a helluva mood.”

  I wasn’t being fair, I knew, but I couldn’t stop. “You could give me back my pills,” I said, my voice saccharine.

  “No can do, love. You need to break the habit.”

  “Not going to happen in a day,” I gritted out.

  “It’s a start.” When he scratched his abs, I bit back a whimper. I wanted to run my hands, my tongue, over that skin.

  My flashes of irritation boiled into a hard knot of need. His phone beeped again. He scowled at the screen. The need deflated back into frustrated anger.

  “What? Don’t like having your long, long list of fuck buddies thrown back at you? Then you shouldn’t have used and tossed so many.”

  He shoved his hands into pockets. “I shouldn’t have.”

  “Stop trying to placate me,” I grouched. “It won’t work.”

  “Already figured that out. Your knickers are twisted so far up your bum, they may never come out.”

  I laid my palm flat against his chest, planning to shove him away. Murphy’s hand closed over mine as his other slid around the curve of my waist. He felt good. I wanted nothing more than to melt into him, watch his eyes darken with lust. Feel the first sweep of his finger across the curve of my cheek before he cupped my jaw, tilting my head just so. But he didn’t make any move closer, and I vibrated with suppressed need.

  “If you want me, love, you’re going to have to tell me.”

  “I don’t want you,” I spat, reeling. Even I could hear the lie in my voice.

  I’d suppressed the need for another’s touch for so long, now I could hardly breathe but for the need. One of the bodyguards would do just as well. At the pool. Without Murphy.

  “Whatever you just thought, you’re not doing it,” Murphy said.

  “Let me go.”

  “Mil,” Alpie cried. “Mil. Mil.”

  “Don’t want to,” he said. “In fact, this is the best idea. You still fit me, Mila, like a glove.” He ran the pad of his thumb down my cheek just as I’d dreamed of before, and I quivered.

  That caress—casual but sensual—was still my undoing. And he knew it, the smug bastard.

  “No, I don’t,” I said. “You’re just saying that because you’re bored and it’s been more than twenty-four hours since some woman plastered herself against you.”

  “Much as I like women, you’re the only one who’s ever fit me.”

  “I don’t want you holding me.”

  “You used to love me holding you. You used to slide into my arms, all quicksilver and sweet lust.” His voice dipped low, into that panty-melting space, and my core melted. He tightened his arm around my waist, snuggling me tighter to him.

  Oh, spaghetti on toast, he lowered his head. His lips were inches from mine. I held my breath. He stiffened and stopped, pulled back. “What changed?”

  My temper snapped. I needed another pill, had been craving its dulling effects for hours. Being near him, not touching him, knowing what he’d thought of me, what he’d done afterward. Too much. The tidal wave crested, and I was its first—only—victim.

  “Everything!” I shrieked. “You walked away from me.” Bringing up my other hand, I slapped at his chest. Alpie squawked, fluttering around in her cage. Fury spurred me on, and I kicked him. “You believed I’d cheated on you. I can’t believe you thought I’d do that.”

  “You told me you couldn’t be with me anymore.” Murphy gritted out, dropping his arms. “What did you expect, Mila? I’m not a fucking mind reader.”

  “You wrote a song about me that everyone loves to sing! You wrote it to be hurtful and it is.” My breathing escalated to sharp staccato gasps. “You screwed half the female population.”

  “We weren’t together. I’m sorry about the song. Especially now that I know why you left—”

  “You should have loved me enough to come after me.” I’d never understood the whole seeing-red-with-rage thing. I did then. Sure, I left him, but he believed I wanted to do so. “You should have trusted me.”

  I wanted him to suffer as I did each time I opened my computer to find Murphy wrapped around another beautiful woman. God, I hated those women. Skinny, model-perfect bodies in tiny bikinis. He’d put his hands on them, his tongue. He’d brought them to peaks of pleasure I hadn’t felt since I was last in his arms. I hated them for th
eir knowledge of his body almost as much as I hated him.

  “You broke up with me,” he said. “You hurt me.”

  I slammed my foot into his shin. When he didn’t let go, I pulled at his shirt as I drove my foot forward, just as my self-defense teacher showed me.

  Murphy grunted, stumbled back. “That hurt!”

  “Good,” I panted. “You deserved it.”

  “You need to settle down. Then we can talk about this like rational people.”

  “Don’t tell me to settle down!” I screeched like a dying dingo, a sound Alpie echoed. “You ruined my life.”

  He reeled back, his eyes dark with pain. “Mila.”

  “Call back one of those women. I’m sure they’ll be happy to give you a gobby.”

  “No one here’s talking about blow jobs, Mila.”

  “I’m going to swim laps. By myself.”

  I stormed from the room, slamming the bedroom door shut behind me.

  He didn’t follow.

  18

  Murphy

  She’d snapped. Tension wound tight around her mouth, worsened by the lowered dose of her meds. But the shock of her anger still reverberated through me. Mila was so smart—she always analyzed her problems. She never yelled, never used force.

  I scrubbed my hand over my face. My phone beeped again. Why couldn’t those women leave me the fuck alone? It’s not like I wanted any of them.

  And that, right there, was the crux of the problem. The woman I wanted thought I’d ruined her life. I dragged my hand from my face to massage my chest. The pain of that dart continued to spread its poison through my system.

  Bloody hell. That accusation hurt because she was right. The picture of us never would’ve been in the paper if we hadn’t been playing an important gig that weekend. Jordan wouldn’t have scared her, accosted my mum, if I hadn’t cared more about being a public figure than about my relationships with the people I loved.

  Just one of those choices—if I could go back, I’d change them all, but just one decision might have given Mila a different life now. I picked up my phone, prepared to delete the text, but stopped short when I saw who it was from.

  Let me know if you’re free. Probably best to meet at Briar’s. The media is slavering to get pics of either of us, especially after my performance yesterday.

  Hayden. Much better than another woman I wasn’t interested in. I’d left him a text last night after seeing him at the hospital, once again requesting the opportunity to talk. Maybe heading over there would give Mila time to cool off.

  I walked over to Mila’s door and raised my hand to knock. I paused when I heard her muffled sobs. Hell. I pressed my hand to the door, wishing I could walk in and gather her up. To kiss away her tears. Bur I’d never have that right, not if she thought I ruined her life. Just because I was thinking about rekindling our relationship didn’t mean Mila would want to. Worse, that she could be in a normal relationship again. What did I know about assault victims?

  Only what I’d seen from my mum. My dad chose to beat the snot out of my mum for serving him a pot roast dinner—typically one of his favorites—after he’d lost his job at the freight company. Because pounding on my preggo mum was a healthy outlet for his anxiety.

  Few people knew Jake and I had a younger brother. Born eight weeks early, Logan spent four weeks in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Westmead in Sydney until the day his tiny body left the hospital in a much-too-small casket. All preventable.

  Going to a funeral at the age of six confused me. The casket lowering into the ground still haunted my dreams—nightmares made worse now that I’d lost a son of my own.

  Which was why I was performing at the charity concert no matter the risk to my own safety. If my name would help bring in more money and keep child abuse front-and-center in the media for a day or two, then I was willing to stand up on stage with a bloody target on my chest just for Jordan, who’d managed to slink into some slimy hole overnight.

  He’d turn up, especially if I made myself available.

  So that’s what I’d do—I’d go out, be seen over and over again until Jordan came after me this time. Me, not Mila. And I’d make sure the sack of sorry shit never saw the outside of prison walls again.

  I hesitated another moment at Mila’s door, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk. I snagged my key card and headed to the front door. I let the two new guards in, annoyed when they looked anywhere but me. They’d heard Mila. Thank God for Harry’s sense to have anyone who worked for Jackaroo to sign nondisclosure agreements. If I read even a hint about our fight, I knew who to sue.

  “Mila’s struggling under the enforced solitude. She wants to go to the pool. Please take her. I have to meet up with my bandmate.”

  Lew, the bigger of the two guards, crossed his arms over his massive chest and nodded his bald head. The bloke was intimidating as all hell. “We’ll take care of her.”

  “See that you do,” I said.

  “You get any new credible threat information?” Hank asked. “Want someone in the water with her?” Former military police, he’d said. Not much older than me. Fit. Probably considered an attractive bloke with his conservative haircut and the straight, even features. I almost dismissed him on the spot until I realized I was jealous. Dammit, I didn’t do jealous.

  But I always had with Mila. Something I was going to have to relearn. Because Mila and I needed to spend time together, see if we could give our relationship another go. All those emotions, that anger she’d spewed, stemmed from hurt. At least I think it did. And if I was correct in that assumption, if what Noelle had said was true, Mila still cared about me just as I still cared about her.

  I stood there for a moment, the need to fix the situation with Mila warring with the need to talk to Hayden. I’d texted him back, letting him know I’d stop by soon. He’d sent me the address, which wasn’t too far from here.

  I’d talk to Mila first, make sure she knew I wanted what was best for her, then go meet up with Hayden. The shower turned on in Mila’s half of the suite. Bollocks. Missed my chance to talk to her and left the wound festering ever wider. If I was braver, I’d simply tell her I still loved her.

  But I wasn’t that brave. Not now that I knew she thought I ruined her life.

  I slammed out of the suite, irritation at the situation catching up with me. I settled into the new rental car next to Kevin and closed my eyes. Mila needed me to be her rock, which required me to handle my emotions better. To act better, period. I used to without thought. But now, since my every whim was anticipated, my every action justified thanks to my multiplatinum album, my lack of civility—humanity—was appalling and obvious.

  No wonder Jake, Hayden, and Flip wanted to get rid of me.

  Briar’s flat was small, but the exterior wall was made of windows and the hardwood doors and floors were only some of the subtle touches that made it feel both homey and roomier than it actually was. The main room consisted of a tiny dining nook, a decent-sized living room and a functional kitchen done up in stainless steel appliances and bright white countertops. A whole three feet of it, upon which sat a brand new espresso maker.

  “Briar bought that for me. Said I needed to learn how to make real coffee like they serve in Melbourne since I made the mistake of saying coffee there’s better than here. She’s waiting for a brilliant cuppa, she says.” Hayden shrugged. “Your shadow coming inside?”

  I glanced back at the guard. “Be decent, Hayden. Kevin’s just doing his job.”

  Hayden’s brow shot up, shocked, no doubt, to find a decent bone in my body. Or that I’d chastise him. Both, I reckoned. “Right-o. Sorry, there, Kevin. Come in. I’ll grab you a drink—a coffee?” At Kevin’s nod, Hayden moved over to the kitchen and pulled out a premade Starbuck’s mocha. “I don’t know how to use the bloody thing,” he sighed. “It’s more complicated than that freaking airplane we took up in Cairns last year. Best part: the instructions are in, like, Korean.”

  Kevin and I chuckled. “I�
��ll step outside, Mr. Etsam. Holler if you need anything. Thanks for the coffee.” Kevin raised his glass container and stepped out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

  I walked to the living space. The couch was tattered and I wondered why they’d keep such a nasty old piece of rubbish when a fluffy gray cat with bright green eyes sashayed around the corner.

  “You even have a cat?”

  Hayden settled into the corner of the couch and the cat leaped with light grace into his lap. “She came as part of the package. Bit moody, this girl, but she’s all right. Aren’t you, Princess?”

  “That cat’s name is Princess?” I couldn’t stop the snort of laughter.

  “Better watch yourself, mate. If Princess doesn’t like you, this convo ends.”

  “You’re still angry,” I said, holding up my hand. “Mila has a bird. A bloody cockatoo. For emotional support.” Hayden shook his head but his lips curved up. I cleared my throat. “Right. I didn’t come to talk about animals. I acted like a complete douche canoe.”

  “That you did. But . . . seeing you with Mila, knowing how you loved her, how I love Briar, I can understand part of it. The acting out from hurt anyway.”

  I leaned forward, my hands clasped between my spread knees. “You can’t because I just learned how bad it’s been.”

  “Her stalker, you mean? The step-uncle? It’s been all over the news.”

  “That part, yeah. I’d told her I wanted to marry her a few days before everything went to shit because of that bloke.”

  Hayden hissed out a curse. “Not that I’m surprised. Mila’s fabulous. Kept you in line, didn’t she?” Hayden reached down to scratch Princess under her chin. She blinked up at him and began to purr.