“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.”
“This is a story better suited for another time. First, I want you to talk to me about Jeremy.”
“You know everything.”
She buries her face in my chest again, hiding.
“Does he have a key to your apartment?”
“I’ll have the locks changed tomorrow.”
“Why didn’t you do that already?”
“I didn’t think he’d do anything. He was gone.”
I’m not leaving here tonight.
“Have the gate code changed too.”
“I will.” She’s quiet for a long moment. “He was going to hit me.”
My gut clenches all over again and I wish he were here so I could beat the fuck out of him. “No, he wasn’t. I wouldn’t have let him.”
“If you hadn’t been there, he would have. I wasn’t the one who cheated on him. I didn’t do anything wrong, but he was going to hit me.”
“He doesn’t matter,” I whisper, and kiss her head as I lift her into my arms and walk to her bedroom. I toe off my shoes, pull the covers back, and lay her on the bed, then with all of my clothes still on, I climb in after her.
“What are you doing?” Excellent question, sweetheart. I believe this is called comforting without the expectation of sex afterward.
And it’s a completely new experience for me.
“Curing cancer.” I tug her to me, tangle our legs, and wrap my arms around her as she rests her head on my chest. “We could both use some comforting, I think.”
“Why do you need comforting?”
Oh, sweetness, for so many reasons that if I laid them all out for you, you’d run from this room screaming.
“Because I hit a guy tonight and bruised my hand.”
“Oh!” She grabs my fist in her hands and kisses my knuckles, making the breath hiss out between my teeth. “I’m sorry.”
“You should kiss it again.”
She does, gently pressing her sexy, full lips against my skin, and then to my utter surprise, she uncurls my fingers and tucks her cheek in my palm, holding my hand to her face. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I whisper.
“For saving me from that douche bag. For being so nice to me even though I’ve been an utter bitch to you.”
“You’re not a bitch. You just like me.”
“Do not.”
I smile and hold her close, staring at the shadows from her window on the ceiling. The room is dark and cool. Perfect sleeping conditions.
“You like me. It’s okay, I have that effect on women.”
She stiffens for a moment, then relaxes again. “I’m sure you do.”
I tip her face up, so I can see her eyes in the moonlight. “It was a joke, Addie.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, I think with you, it does.”
Her eyes drop to my lips as she licks her own and it takes all of my willpower not to roll her under me and take her right here and now. But then she looks back up at me and presses her lips to my chin. “Thank you.”
“You already thanked me.”