Stay With Me ~ Kristen Proby

by Kristen Proby

  I smile as I hit end on the camera and sit back to look through the video to make sure there’s nothing that I need to film over again.

  I’ll splice it together tomorrow and get it ready to publish on YouTube on Friday.

  I’ve made quite the name for myself as a beauty and fashion vlogger. With more than three million followers on YouTube, and close to two million on Instagram, I have an impressive following.

  All because I love makeup and pretty clothes.

  I’ve been told that the camera loves me, which is a bonus.

  Now, I’ve been approached by one of the biggest makeup and skincare retailers in the country to formulate my own makeup brand. It’s almost ready to launch, but I’m stuck in this holding pattern. Again.

  I thought it was over. I thought I could finally move forward with my life and leave my past where it belongs.

  Instead, I’m waiting. Just like I have been for more than two years.

  It’s ridiculous.

  I shake my head as I wrap up the video, turn off the lights, and carry my makeup brushes into the bathroom to clean them and get them ready for the next recording.

  The doorbell rings, and I roll my eyes, hopeful that Mr. Neighbor hasn’t decided that he needs a cup of sugar, after all. But it’s not Wyatt, it’s the UPS man with a delivery.

  Day one, and the deliveries have already caught up to me. Which is fantastic.

  I unbox the goodies from It cosmetics, and log the foundations, powders, and brushes into my spreadsheets. I keep track of everything that arrives, whether I’ve ordered it or if it’s a freebie from the company. I also keep track of if I try it, use it in a video or on Instagram, and what I think of the product.

  With dozens of things arriving each week, there’s just no other way to keep track of everything. Not to mention, it feeds my organized soul.

  My phone pings with a text from Jules.

  If you’re free, I’m bringing Natalie and wine over at 6pm. Sit by the pool?

  I grin, excited to see them both, and reply. Yes! Yay! I’ll order pizza.

  I check the clock. I have two hours until they arrive. It’s the perfect amount of time to get in some yoga and a shower.

  Just as I’m about to step under the hot spray, Jules texts back. Awesome. See you soon!

  “I haven’t told my parents that I’m here yet,” I confide to Nat and Jules a few hours later. We’re sitting by the pool in the backyard, lounging on the most comfortable outdoor chairs I’ve ever sat in, sipping our wine.

  We’ve already decimated the pizza.

  “They won’t be happy,” Jules says, exchanging a look with Natalie, who looks fucking amazing for just having had a baby.

  “I know.” I sigh, watching the water in the pool. “It sucks. My family has been under enough stress because of my divorce. I finally thought it was over, and we all celebrated. With a party. How do I say ‘oops! Never mind!’”

  “I wouldn’t say it like that,” Natalie replies with a laugh.

  “I know for a fact that Uncle Stan and Aunt Sherri would be totally supportive and angry on your behalf.” Jules takes a sip of her wine.

  “I know. I’ll call them tomorrow.” I fidget with the button on the cushion of my chair. “Thanks for everything, Jules.”

  “You’ve thanked me about forty times.”

  “Well, I’m thanking you again. And you, too, Nat. Thanks for letting me stay here. It’s so beautiful, and perfect for what I need. I set up a studio in the upstairs guest room for my videos.”

  “Oh, perfect,” Nat says with a smile. She might be one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met. With long, dark hair, green eyes, and a calm soul, she’s always made me feel comfortable around her. “I want you to be at ease here. Well, as at ease as you can, given the circumstances. And if you need anything, Luke and I are just up the road a ways.”

  “Thanks.” I blow out a breath. “Honestly, I’m a bit surprised that you’re both so willing to help. Not because I think you’re mean or anything, but, Jules, you’re a bit older than me, and we’ve never been close. I always looked up to you.”

  “Well, when I was twenty, and you were fifteen, I probably didn’t want you around,” Jules admits with a laugh. “But you’re an adult, and you’re my cousin. I’m always happy to help. I would love to see more of you. I think we have a lot in common.”

  “I watch your videos every week,” Natalie adds. “I get a lot of great tips from you.”

  “Me, too,” Jules says with a nod. “We’re girly girls, through and through.”

  “I love that,” I reply. “I’d love to go shopping with you guys.”

  “Hallelujah,” Natalie says, throwing her hands into the air. “I’ve been pregnant forever, and now that Chelsea is a couple months old, I can leave her for a few hours at a time. So, yes. Please, let’s go shopping soon.”

  “We could invite all of the girls,” Jules says, her brain working. “Make it a shopping day-slash-girls’ night out.”

  “Oh, yes,” Nat says, nodding vigorously. “You probably haven’t had a chance to get to know everyone.”

  “I haven’t been home since Dom’s wedding.”

  “That was three years ago,” Jules says. “We definitely need to get all the girls together.”

  “Awesome.” I high five both of them, excited to spend time with all of my cousins and their significant others “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s in that building?” I ask, pointing to the small structure behind the house.

  “My studio,” Natalie says. “Just so you know, I’ll be in and out sometimes with clients, but we’ll walk around the house. I take photos in there.”

  “Oh, how fun.”

  “I should do some photos for you,” Nat says. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

  “She does boudoir photos,” Jules warns me.

  “Actually, I could use a bunch of shots for my new brand. I can’t be in L.A. for the sessions, but I bet we could do them here.”

  “I’d be happy to,” Natalie says, her face lighting up with a smile. “Just let me know what you need, and we’ll make it happen.”

  “Thank you. I could also use some shots for social media. I had a girlfriend in L.A. who did those for me, but—”

  “Say no more,” Natalie says, holding up a hand. “I’m your girl, and I’m ready to get back to work part-time. Let’s set something up for later in the week.”

  “This is amazing.” I stare at both of them as they smile back at me. Wide, happy smiles. It feels so good to be back with family. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me either,” Natalie says.

  “I want to come, too,” Jules adds.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  ~Wyatt~

  So, she wants the cabinets on the other side of the kitchen. I stare at the blueprints and scowl.

  There isn’t even a fucking wall there.

  My phone rings at my elbow.

  “Yeah.”

  “What has your panties in a twist?” My brother, Jace, asks on the other end of the line.

  “Difficult client,” I reply and drag my hand down my face before looking out my office window, which faces the mysterious woman’s house just across the street. Another delivery truck has pulled up, and just ahead of that, a dark-haired woman climbs out of her luxury SUV, along with a young couple.

  What the hell is going on over there?

  “Did you fall asleep?” Jace asks.

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “Levi and I are going to the Celtic Swell for dinner. Do you want to go?”

  The ocean-front bar isn’t far from my house. “Sure. What time?”

  “Six,” he says. “You sound like you could use a beer.”

  “Or five,” I say with a sigh. “Sorry, this client has been a pain in my ass. She wants me to completely rearrange the kitchen, but where she wants the cabinets, there is no wall.”

  “Hard to put cabinets against thin air.”

/>   “Exactly.” I watch in fascination as the delivery truck leaves, and my smiling neighbor carries a huge box inside the house.

  “So, what’s new?” Jace asks, clearly not in a hurry to hang up.

  “I have a new neighbor.”

  “That’s boring as fuck,” he replies, and I can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Have you gotten laid lately?”

  “When do I have time for that?”

  “That’s my point.”

  “You have a point?” I scowl at my phone. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “My patient just arrived. I’ll talk to you at six.”

  He hangs up, and I stand in the window, watching the happenings across the street. What in the world is going on over there?

  And why am I so intrigued by it?

  Okay, that’s a dumb question. Neighbor Girl is sexy as fuck, and as Jace pointed out, I haven’t gotten laid in more than a minute. She said all of six words to me, and I thought she was adorable.

  What I could see of her.

  I shake my head and turn back to my drafting desk, doing my best to forget about her and focus on this task.

  How the fuck do I put cabinets where, clearly, there is no place to put cabinets? Without rearranging the whole blueprint, that is.

  I bite my lower lip and stare at the paper until it’s all blurry, and then decide, screw it.

  I’ll go for a run.

  I change clothes, put on running shoes, and walk out the front door to see another delivery truck parked across the street, and my neighbor struggling with one of the boxes.

  I jog over and smile at her, finally getting a good look at her, and holy fuck, she’s beautiful. Long, light blond hair frames a face that might have been created by the gods. She’s petite, with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen in my damn life.

  “Hey, can I help?”

  “Oh, no, I’ve got it.” But she fumbles, and the box ends up on the ground just as the delivery guy pulls away from the driveway. “Or, I don’t.”

  I pick it up and blink in surprise. “It’s heavy. Do you have a body in here?”

  “You’ll never know,” she says with a smirk. But as I start to walk in the house, she blocks me.

  “Wait, I don’t know you.”

  “Yes, you do, I’m your neighbor. Wyatt. Remember?”

  “No, I mean I don’t know you. You could be a serial killer for all I know.”

  I raise a brow. “You’re the one with the heavy box that might well have a body inside, and I’m the killer?”

  Her lips twitch, and finally, I get to hear her laugh. It’s wonderful. Warm and husky, and she shrugs good-naturedly.

  “I swear, I’m not a serial killer,” I assure her.

  “Thief?” she asks and bites her lip, her eyes twinkling with humor.

  “Not unless you count when I was six and lifted a candy bar from the drug store.”

  “So you live a life of crime, then.” She sighs dramatically, and I immediately love her sarcasm. “Fine, you can come in.”

  She leads me inside. Her ass is tight in her little denim shorts, and her blond hair is long, falling down her back almost to that perfect backside.

  My cock just came to life.

  “You can just put it on the dining room table.” She gestures to the table already covered with other boxes and mail.

  “Where?”

  “Hmm.” She taps her full lips with her finger, then shifts a few boxes, making room for me. “There.”

  I set it down and step back to take in the space. Aside from the table, it’s tidy.

  “Good, because this sucker is heavy. I’m guessing an ex-boyfriend?”

  “That’s right,” she says and hooks a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling widely, and then her gaze falls to my arm. I can’t help but give it a little flex, just to watch her eyes dilate.

  So, the attraction is mutual.

  Good to know.

  “Do you need anything else moved?” I ask her and watch her shake herself out of a daydream.

  “No. Thanks. Sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry?”

  She laughs and pushes her fingers through her hair, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I appreciate your help. That was a heavy one.”

  “What is all of this stuff?”

  Her eyes suddenly go cold, and I know I’ve lost her. “Thanks for the help,” she says again, dismissing me.

  “My pleasure. Before I leave, what’s your name?”

  “Lia,” she replies, not saying any more, and I consider that a win. I nod and leave her house, jogging down to the waterfront.

  One of the reasons I love this neighborhood is because it’s safe enough to run any time of day, and I jog to clear my head.

  There are miles and miles of sidewalk that wind along the coastline, and I can watch the boats sail on the choppy, blue water. People are walking dogs, pushing strollers, sitting on blankets.

  There are always people.

  I reach over my head and pull off my t-shirt, ball it up in my hand, and focus on the steady pounding of my feet on the pavement.

  And before long, my mind empties, and I can just enjoy the sun and the salty air.

  “Why the fuck do you have a porn ’stache?” I ask Levi, my oldest brother.

  “Because he’s going to do porn,” Jace says and earns the death glare from Levi, making him laugh.

  “The cop thing not working out?” I ask him with a straight face and take a sip of my beer.

  “Fuck both of you,” Levi replies. “I like it.”

  “It’s awful,” Jace says. “But, if the porn ’stache thing draws in the ladies, who am I to judge?”

  “It’s just a regular mustache,” he insists. I sit back and study him. He’s in his late thirties, with a little grey making its way through his dark hair. I figure it’s the job that’s done that to him.

  Being a detective in a city the size of Seattle isn’t for the faint of heart.

  “Stop harassing him,” I say to Jace. “Did you open anyone up today?”

  “Two,” he says with a nod. Jace is one of the top cardiovascular surgeons in Seattle, and at thirty-six, that’s impressive. “And I saw seven others in my office. It’s going to be a busy week. What’s up with you, Wyatt?”

  “I have a new neighbor,” I reply because that’s the newest thing happening right now. “Yes, I know. You’re saving lives, Levi’s catching bad guys while seeking a career in porn—”

  “I’m not doing fucking porn.”

  “—and I have a new neighbor. Fascinating. Except, it kind of is. She’s mysterious.”

  “How so?” Jace asks.

  “Well, she gets deliveries all day long. And other people come and go, some couples and some singles.”

  “Brothel,” Levi says immediately, making me laugh, spitting out my drink.

  “I don’t think so. Oh, and when I went over there a few days ago to introduce myself, she only opened the door wide enough for me to see one eye.”

  “Creeper,” Jace says, and I shake my head.

  “No, she seemed nervous.”

  “Brothel,” Levi repeats, making me smirk again.

  “I helped her with a heavy delivery today, but there’s nothing odd about the inside of her house. She seems pretty normal, just private. She doesn’t come and go. I’ve never seen her leave the house, now that I think about it.”

  They both frown. “Maybe she’s agoraphobic,” Levi suggests.

  “Or she might have that disorder where she’s allergic to the sun,” Jace adds. “So maybe she leaves at night.”

  I’m blinking, watching both of them with a frown on my face. “Why are you both so fucking dramatic?”

  “What?” Jace demands. “If she’s not leaving the house, and has things delivered, it makes sense that she can’t leave the house.”

  “So, what’s up with all of the people coming and going?” I ask. “I could have sworn I saw Will Montgomery, as in the quarterback, over there the o
ther day. And the movie star, Luke Williams, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Have you had a fever?” Jace asks, and I flip him off.

  “Friends?” Levi suggests. “Business?”

  “Maybe she’s a celebrity call girl. Is she hot?” Jace asks and then throws his head back and laughs when I just stare at him. “Of course, she is. This is why you’re so curious. Just go over there and talk to her.”

  “I did, and she wasn’t interested in talking.”

  “Well, maybe she’ll just remain a mystery,” Levi says with a shrug. “Look at that, Jace, our baby brother finally met a woman that he can’t charm.”

  “Just don’t turn into the perv across the street who watches her every move,” Jace says. “You’re better than that.”

  “I don’t watch her every move,” I reply and roll my eyes. I just watch her moves when I catch glimpses of her from my office, which does not make me a pervert. “I’m just curious.”

  “So, on a scale of Mom to Blake Lively, how hot is she?” Levi asks.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Hotter than Blake?” Jace asks, stunned. “Whoa. I’d be obsessed, too.”

  “I’m not fucking obsessed.”

  I’m pulling into my driveway just as Lia pulls into hers. I’m surprised. Maybe she does only leave the house after dark.

  Which is ridiculous, but here we are.

  I step out of my car and see her looking over at me, so I wave. She smiles and waves back before disappearing into her house.

  My phone is ringing as I unlock my door. I cringe at the caller I.D.

  “Hello, Mrs. Malkowitz.”

  “Hello, dear,” she says. I regret taking this job. Yes, it’s bringing in close to a million dollars, but it’s also bringing me anxiety and calls at ten in the evening from the homeowner. “Thank you for sending over the changes to the kitchen today.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I hate it.”

  I sigh and drag my hand over my face. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I really think we should just go back to the way it was at the start.”