Listen to Me

by Kristen Proby

  And I never know how she’s going to look when I get here each night. She changes her style more than most people change underwear, and she looks amazing every time. Whether she looks classic or edgy, or anywhere in between, it’s always a surprise.

  The best damn surprise I’ve had in years.

  Now the place is quiet. The staff is wrapping things up for the night as I fiddle with my guitar, adjusting the tuning.

  If I’m honest, the guitar was already perfectly tuned. I just want to watch Addie move about the room.

  And that’s fucking pathetic. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. She’s made it clear, which pisses me off and amuses me at the same time.

  I’ve never been good at taking no for an answer.

  And I can’t help but wonder if that’s what this attraction is all about: the challenge.

  “Can we discuss my schedule?” Ashley asks. “I have a family dinner for my dad’s birthday next weekend. I’d like to switch with someone, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” Addie replies, then frowns in thought. “Shit, I left my iPad in the car. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll meet you in the bar,” Ashley says.

  Good idea.

  I don’t drink much, not anymore, but I could use one now.

  “Great set tonight, Jake,” Kat says from behind the bar. Her lips are deep red, almost matching her hair. She’s in a ripped AC/DC tank top tonight and tight jeans, showing off her ink.

  “Thanks,” I reply with a smile.

  “What can I get you? Your usual?”

  “I have a usual?” I ask with a raised brow, keeping an eye on the back door that leads to the alley. Where is she? It seems to be taking her too long to grab her iPad, but then again, I’m probably being ridiculous.

  “Coke.” Kat chuckles. “I’m a bartender, Jake. That’s my job.”

  “You’re more than that,” I reply seriously. “You run this place very well.”

  “I know.” Her smile is confident, inspiring more respect from me. These women are all fucking amazing. “I have a thing for booze.”

  “You sound like a wino,” Mia says as she comes out of the kitchen and takes a stool next to me. “She’s not really.”

  “Being good at alcohol doesn’t make anyone an alcoholic,” I reply, starting to worry about Addie. “It’s an art form.”

  “I like you,” Kat says and blows me a kiss.

  “Where’s Addie?” Mia asks. “Did you send her screaming into the night?”

  “That’s not how women usually react to me, no.” Kat slides a drink over to me and I sip it.

  “She ran out to her car to grab her iPad,” Ashley says as she scrolls through her phone.

  “It’s been a while. I’m going to go check on her.”

  “I really like him,” Kat says as I walk through the kitchen and out the back door. I stop and listen, not sure where Addie parked.

  “You are a worthless piece of shit,” someone yells, and I immediately run in that direction. I turn a corner and see red.

  A man, not much taller than Addie, has her back pinned against her car, and his hand is wrapped around her thin neck. Her eyes are wide with fear as she pushes on his chest, but she can’t budge him.

  He pulls his other hand back, fist clenched, when I reach them and yank him off her.

  “What the fuck?” he yells, then doesn’t say anything when my fist connects with his jaw.

  “Jake!” Addie’s voice is rough, and I barely feel her hand on my arm as I stand over the piece of shit that had his hands on her. “Jake, stop.”

  “Stay behind me.”

  “Who is this asshole?” the fucker yells from the ground, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “Are you fucking him too?”

  “Shut the fuck up.” My voice is steel. “I suggest you leave, right now, before I call the cops.”

  “What for? We were just talking.” He staggers to his feet and looks up at me. He’s clearly drunk. Probably high.

  “You were assaulting her.”

  “This is none of your business.”

  “Just leave, Jeremy,” Addie says from behind me. Her voice is firm, but she’s still holding on to my arm, and her hand is shaking, pissing me off more.

  Something tells me that it takes a lot to scare this woman.

  “You heard her.”

  Jeremy glares at me, then spits and turns away, stumbling out of the alley. When he’s gone, I spin and pull her into my arms, holding her tight against me. She’s trembling, but she’s not crying.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Who was that asshole?”

  “An ex,” she mutters. “No one important.”

  Important enough to come looking for her. But I keep that thought to myself. “Do you want me to call the cops?”

  “No. He didn’t hit me.”

  “I’m going to hold you for a minute.”

  “Good plan.” She’s clinging to me, her fingertips gripping my back, her face pressed to my chest. She fits. There’s no other way to describe it. I wrap my arms around her firmly and lean my face down and bury my nose in her hair, breathing her in. She smells like peaches. She’s beautiful tonight in a black blouse that falls off one shoulder and a tight, red skirt.

  Finally, she pushes away from me and swallows. “Thanks for that. I haven’t seen Jeremy since I threw him out of my apartment more than a month ago. I don’t know what he was doing here tonight.”

  “So he doesn’t threaten you on a regular basis?”

  “No.” She straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin. Good girl.

  “Okay. Let’s get you home.”

  “What?” She frowns. “Why?”

  “Because you were just attacked in the alley, Addie.”

  “I have work to finish.” She reaches into her car to retrieve her iPad and walks toward the restaurant. “I can’t go home.”

  And the stubborn woman is back.

  I follow her in, watching her like a hawk. She marches right over to Ashley, firing up her tablet, but her fingers are a bit shaky.

  I should scoop her up and take her home, but she wouldn’t let me get three steps away without giving me what-for.

  She’s so freaking hot.

  “What’s going on?” Kat asks, watching both of us.

  “Addie—” I begin, but Addie cuts me off with a glare.

  “Nothing.” She turns to Ashley and the two proceed to discuss the schedule for next weekend.

  “What’s up?” Mia asks. “Is everything okay?”

  “Jeremy was in the alley,” Addie admits, not looking anyone in the eyes. “He was being a drunk idiot, and Jake scared him off.”

  She’s purposefully leaving out the part where he was about to beat the shit out of her.

  But, none of my business.

  I simply shrug and down my drink, then push the glass over to Kat, gesturing for another.

  “Thanks so much,” Ashley says with a smile and then heads out, leaving the four of us alone.

  “You gonna tell us what happened?” Kat asks Addie, who has yet to look up from her iPad.

  “What happened with what?” Addie replies.

  “God, she’s stubborn,” Mia mutters, then lets her long, dark hair down. She scratches her scalp and sighs in ecstasy. “That feels better.”

  “You have beautiful hair,” I say. I’m usually attracted to brunettes, and Mia is a very pretty woman. She’s also curvy, a little curvier than Addie, and much shorter, with long, dark hair and gorgeous dark eyes. The smile that tickles her lips is one of pure female satisfaction.

  “Thank you.”

  “If you’re done flirting with the owners, you can leave,” Addie says. I glance up to find her scowling at me, which only makes me smirk.

  “I’m leaving when you leave, beautiful.”

  “He is flirty,” Kat says to Mia, as if I’m not sitting right here.

  “I am not.”

 
“Okay, beautiful,” Kat replies with a smug smile.

  “Well, I’m leaving now,” Addie says and flips her iPad closed, then marches off to the office to collect her things.

  “Is she okay?” Mia asks. “Honestly.”

  “She is now.”

  Kat and Mia both glare at me, but before they can say anything else, Addie returns.

  “You don’t have to walk me out.”

  “Hmm.” I lift my guitar and don’t comment further as Addie leads me out the back, into the alley, toward her car.

  I just happen to be parked next to her.

  Wordlessly, she slips into her late-model Jetta, just as I lower myself into my Mustang. I pull out behind her and we drive through downtown, which is still very active on a Saturday night, and through the hills of west Portland, to a nice, gated community of apartments. I follow her through the gate, and once she pulls into her garage, I park behind her and get out of the car.

  “Why are you following me?”

  “I wanted to make sure that asshole didn’t follow you,” I reply, my fingers itching to tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. “And I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You need to tell the others that he assaulted you.”

  She doesn’t even try to pretend that she doesn’t understand. “They don’t need to worry.”

  “They need to know, in case that asshole comes to the restaurant.” She frowns and looks down, but I’m a persistent asshole. “Addie.”

  “Fine, I’ll tell them. But you’re being silly. I’m fine.”

  But she swallows hard and her eyes still look scared.

  “Invite me in.”

  “Excuse me?” She crosses her arms, facing off with me in the middle of her garage. And now I can’t stand it anymore. I step forward and gently tuck the hair behind her ear, then drag my fingertip down her neck to her bare shoulder.

  “You have sexy shoulders.”

  “I can’t have you here.”

  My gaze finds her ice-blue one. “Do you have a curfew?”

  She doesn’t smile. “I think I’m going to fall apart, and I can’t have you see that.”

  “Ah, baby.”

  “I don’t want you to see me fall apart.”

  “Okay.” I sigh. “But I need to make sure you get inside okay, and I need to get you settled.”

  And I don’t even understand why. Why the need to comfort and protect her is so damn strong. I’ve never felt this way about anyone besides Christina before, and even that isn’t this strong.

  But I can’t stop it.

  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

  “Just humor me.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns away, slaps the button to lower the garage door, then leads me inside and up the stairs to the apartment. The rooms are big, open. New. And the furniture is trendy, yet comfortable.

  Addie drops her purse and keys on her dining room table, then turns to me. “Okay. I’m in safely.”

  I step to her, unable to turn away and walk back out of here, and wrap her in my arms, the same way I did in the alley, rocking her back and forth.

  “Scared me,” I whisper.

  “What did?”

  “Seeing him with his hand wrapped around your neck.” The thought of him hurting you. The thought of losing you, and you’re not even mine.

  “I didn’t enjoy it either.”

  I smile softly, my lips brushing back and forth over her hair. God, she smells like heaven, and having her sexier-than-fuck body pressed to me feels like pure sin.

  The best kind of sin.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to call the cops?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Go change,” I whisper and pull back. “Get comfortable.”

  She sighs, watching me, then turns and walks to what I assume is her bedroom, her heels clicking on her hardwood floors. When she shuts the door, I turn back to the room. The walls and trim are white. The kitchen cabinets are white as well, with black granite countertops. The windows are wide, and I bet she has a beautiful view during the day.

  I’m drawn to the mantel over the fireplace and examine the photos on display. There are shots of all of the owners of Seduction, at different ages. It looks like Addie knew Mia and Cami when they were young, and as they got older, Riley and Kat are added to the photos.

  Next to the fireplace is a bookcase, filled with books from floor to ceiling. She has cookbooks, novels, biographies . . . everything. But one book, with nothing written on the spine, catches my eye.

  It’s a big book, the kind most people keep on their coffee table. And when I open it, I’m floored to find it full of photos of Addie.

  Addison was a model.

  There are runway shots, fashion shots, swimsuit shots. Smiling, flirty, serious. Jesus, she’s beautiful. And so painfully young in these photos. She was a bit slimmer then, but still had her curves.

  “What are you doing?”

  I turn slowly and smile over at her. “I thought I recognized your face.”

  Her eyes drop to the book in my hands, then whip up to mine. “That’s private.”

  My heart stills as I look her over, from head to toe. She’s in an old white T-shirt and men’s boxer shorts. Her long hair is piled on top of her head in a knot. And her face is completely clean of makeup.

  I’ve never seen her look more beautiful, and I’ve seen her in a dozen different looks. But this, right here, is Addie, and she’s so stunning, she takes my breath away.

  “Are you going to speak, or are you just going to stare at me?”

  “You’re so fucking incredible.”

  She stumbles, blinking rapidly. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “Why are you being nice to me?” she asks, bewildered. “I’ve been horrible to you.”

  I close the book and return it to the shelf, then cross to her, take her hand, and lead her to the overstuffed couch. I sit and guide her next to me.

  I want to pull her into my lap, but I’m not so sure she’d allow that.

  She pulls her legs up and leans her cheek against my shoulder, holding on to my bicep with her hands.

  “I can take it,” I whisper and resist the urge to kiss the top of her head. “You were perfectly professional.”

  “I’m cold.”

  “You were hurt.”

  She snorts.

  “And you like me, and that scares you.”

  She immediately pushes away, shaking her head. “You wish.”

  I smile and tug her into my lap now, holding her to me. Her lips are turned up, but her blue eyes are cautious, just as they should be.

  But I’m not going to talk my way into her bed. Not tonight. Tonight she needs a friend, and she needs to be held.

  I would never admit it, but after seeing her in danger earlier tonight, maybe so do I.

  “Admit it, you like me.”

  “I like it when you leave.” She smiles widely and bats her eyelashes.

  “You’re a smart-ass.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?” She leans her cheek on my chest and traces imaginary circles on my shirt. “It usually pisses people off.”

  “I’m a smart-ass too, so I speak the language.”

  “I like that you’re tall.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m tall.”

  And you fit.

  “Tell me about the modeling.”

  “I don’t do it anymore.”

  “You’re kidding.” My voice is dry as I drag my hand down her back, over her soft shirt, to her ass, then up again. “Care to elaborate on that?”

  She sighs. “Girls with curves don’t last too long in that industry. I was a size eight, which is way too big to be a runway model.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No, it’s true.”

  “I know it’s true, I just think it’s bullshit.”


  She shrugs. “It is what it is. I’m bigger than that now, so those days are long behind me. But I love fashion. I love playing with different looks. I always have.”

  “I’ve noticed. It’s sexy as hell.”

  “It’s fun.”

  “Who gave you the book?”

  “It was a gift from my stylist, Cici. We met early on, and I took her everywhere with me. She’s the best hair and makeup person out there. She still does my hair. All five of us, actually.”

  “She lives here in Portland?”

  “Yeah. She moved here with her husband and kids a few years ago. We do a girls’ night once a month and get our hair done, waxed, nails, the whole enchilada.”

  “That sounds . . . terrifying,” I reply with a laugh, but can’t help but wonder what, exactly, she has waxed. The thought has my dick twitching, so I take a deep breath and think about puppies and baseball, because NO SEX.

  “Well, then it’s a good thing you aren’t invited to join us.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  She shrugs again, still brushing her manicured fingertip over my chest. If she doesn’t stop touching me like that, I won’t be responsible for my actions.

  Like bending her over the back of the couch.

  Jesus, get a grip, Keller.

  “I miss the clothes. God, the clothes were so fucking fun. And I miss the hair and makeup too.”

  “You do that for yourself every day.”

  “It’s not the same,” she replies, almost sadly. “I miss the people. Some of the designers and photographers. But I don’t miss being told that I’m fat.”

  “You’re not fat.”

  “In that world I was. I’m a curvy woman, that’s just how my body is made, and I can’t change it.”

  “Nor should you.”

  “When you’re young, it can really mess with your head. I’m so thankful that I had the experience, and I still have friendships from that life, but I’m fine with it being over.”

  God, I can relate to that.

  “Why did the band break up?” she asks softly.

  “Because I’m a jackass.”

  She pulls back so she can look up at me. “The bandmates don’t like you either?”

  “Either?”

  “Like me.”

  “Oh, you like me.”

  She simply raises a brow, making me laugh. “Of course they like me.”

  “So tell me about your jackassery.”