Guarded, page 25
Jill Stevens 1/30 0:34
“Sometimes I pick up the phone and feel like a stalker. Then I remember that if I don’t call, you might think I’ve given up. I haven’t, by the way—which is why I’m calling. I still feel kind of stalker-ish, but it beats the alternative.
“I miss you. I miss hearing the sound of your voice. I miss your dirty text messages. I miss your lips and your eyes. Dammit, Leo…call me back.”
Jill Stevens 2/3 1:06
“So, I’m drunk. Gloria and Sean took me out. Gloria said I needed cheering up. I don’t feel cheerful. Do I sound cheerful? I don’t think I was cheerful. But you know what? Alcohol is really just not the answer. You’re smart for not drinking it. It’s not really good. I mean, healthy. It’s not healthy. It makes you sick. Well, I don’t think I’ll get sick. I can keep my cheerfulness in my belly.
“Except—my belly aches. Not because of the liquor. It aches because you hurt me. You know—it’s funny. You broke up with me because you were upset that you hurt me, but then you hurt me even more when you walked away. The bruises on my neck—they’re gone. The hole you left in my chest—still there, Lee. Still fucking there.
“Great. Now I’m gonna start crying. This is not cheerful. This is not cheerful at all. I hate you for ignoring me. I really do, Leo. But I still want you. I want all of you. I want all of you always. You’re the only one. You’re the only one I’ll ever need. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere, my Lee. Wanted you to know that. Goodnight.”
Jill Stevens 2/4 0:24
“All right. So, last night happened. Wish I could remember all that I said, but I don’t. Bet I meant every word, though. Anyway, if I know you at all—and I do—I know you got my message and immediately went on high alert. It’s who you are. It’s why I adore you. It’s why I’m calling you to let you know that I didn’t drive—Sean did. I also locked up before I called. Knob. Deadbolt. Chain. So, now you don’t have to worry. That is, if you listened to my message. If you listened to any of my messages…”
Jill Stevens 2/5 0:07
“Spain. That’s where I want to go. I want to go to your happy place with you. I miss you, Lee…and I’m still not going anywhere.”
I STAND OUTSIDE dad’s office, worrying my bottom lip as I work up the nerve to knock on the door. After a full two minutes, I realize that I’m being ridiculous. I don’t even bother knocking before I invite myself into the small space. He looks up from the paperwork in front of him, peeking at me from over his reading glasses, and I force a smile.
“Hey, sweetie. Need something?”
“Yeah, actually. Do you have a minute?”
He turns his head and looks at the clock in the corner of his computer screen, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. Something tells me he was so lost in whatever it is he’s doing, he didn’t even realize that the shop is already closed for the afternoon. Returning his gaze to me, he takes off his spectacles, tossing them onto his desk as he tells me, “Sure, kiddo. What’s up?”
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out, so I seal my lips closed tight. My stomach knots up with worry, and I wish we could just skip to the end of this entire conversation, where my dad hugs me and tells me that he loves me no matter what.
“Hmm,” he hums. He leans back in his chair, lifting a hand to rub his knuckles along the underside of his chin, his eyes never leaving mine. I immediately know that he’s onto me. “Come here, Jill.”
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I make my way to the other side of the desk, leaning up against the edge, just beside his chair. He spins so that he’s facing me directly, and folds his arms across his chest before he goes on to ask, “Would it help to know that I’ve been waiting for this conversation?”
My eyes well up with tears, and I shake my head, looking down at my feet.
He bends toward me, propping himself on his elbows as he murmurs, “Out with it, Jill.”
“I can’t fight for him here,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I can’t stay here and be with him. He needs to be where he is and I—dad, I feel like it’s getting harder to breathe without him. The longer we’re apart, the more frightened I become. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him, too.”
“Go,” he states simply.
I suck in a breath, lifting my eyes to meet his.
Smiling at me, he repeats, “Go.”
“Just like that?”
He sighs, sitting upright once more before he tells me, “You’re all I’ve got left, kiddo. You and this coffee house, it’s the last of your mom that I’ve got. I promised her I’d take care of you both. You first and foremost.
“I appreciate what you do around here. You know how much I depend on you. But, sweetie, as much as I love having you here, you’re not irreplaceable.”
I cough out a teary laugh, scowling at him playfully. He chuckles, a small grin lighting up his eyes as he explains, “I can always find another barista. All that web stuff you do, you can help your old man out with that anywhere. I don’t need you to stay, Jill. I need you to be happy. I need you to live the life you want. I promised her—I promised her that when you were ready to fly, I’d let you go. It’s time. Go. If he’s worth it, if he’s who you want, go.”
He barely gets his last sentence out before I lunge at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I love you, dad.”
“Jill—you have no idea,” he says in return, running a hand over my hair.
As I pull away from him, wiping my cheeks dry, I assure him, “He is worth it. Leo—he’s good to me. I mean, it’s complicated, he’s complicated, but—”
“Sweetie, I’ve known you all your life. Soon as he became a part of you, I knew. He lifts you up to your highest highs, and he drags you down to your lowest lows. ‘Course, I’d rather see you high than low, but I know what it is to love somebody through it all. You don’t have to explain it to me.”
I nod, reaching up to bring my ponytail over my shoulder. Fidgeting with my ends, I inform him, “They’ll be home in three days.”
“Jill?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at me.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll be just fine. Do what you have to.”
Propping myself up with a hand on his shoulder, I lean in and kiss his cheek before I whisper, “Thanks, daddy.”
AS SOON AS I get out of my car, I pull out my phone. Hurrying toward my front door, I bring up Corie’s contact information and send a call through. I’m fumbling with the lock when she answers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe, I need your help.”
“Might this have something to do with a certain broody someone who seems to have lost his smile somewhere in Seattle?”
My door halfway open, I stand frozen for a moment, thinking about how miserable I’ve been without him. Even with the miles and the silence that stretch on between us, I remember the look in his eyes when he walked away from me two and a half weeks ago. I remember all that it is I’m fighting for. He’s always done all that he could to protect me—to keep me safe. Now it’s my turn to save him.
Stepping into my apartment, I close myself in, my fingers reaching for the chain lock that always makes me think of him. Sliding it home, I repeat Corie’s question in my head before I confess, “Yes—as a matter of fact, it does.”
I THROW THE strap of one duffle over my shoulder, reaching up to close the trunk of the SUV. Once it’s shut, I clap my hand against the side of the vehicle, signaling that he can take off. I then lean down to grab hold of the straps of my second duffle, looking up the length of my Brooklyn home. Now that the tour is over, the house Ashley had built for Corie is just about ready. There’s talk of a moving date within the next couple of months. He won’t sell his penthouse in the city, of course, but it won’t be where they spend most of their time anymore—which means Brooklyn won’t be where I spend my nights, either.
Finally making my way inside, I dig my keys out of my pocket, taking my time up the stairs. The night is still young, only a few minutes past eight, but I feel beat to shit. The last three weeks have been exhausting. I’d like to blame it on all the travel or on the busy tour schedule, but that’s bullshit and I know it. Even if I don’t want to admit it, my sleepless nights are becoming a problem. I need to get my fucking act together. I dug my grave, now it’s time I lie in it.
When I reach my floor, rounding the corner of the stairwell that leads down the short hallway to my door, I stop dead in my tracks at the sight of her. After the countless voicemails and her promises of not going anywhere, I don’t know why I’m so shocked to see her sitting on top of her suitcase in front of my door, but I fucking am.
She stands up, and my dick twitches—my body fully aware that the only woman I crave, the only woman I’ve been able to think about for the last six months, she’s here, and she looks hot as hell. She’s in a gray pair of those fucking fluffy boots girls wear, her legs covered in tight, black leggings. Her white, V-neck t-shirt is cut low and clings to her small frame just past her hips, and she’s got on a long, pale pink sweater that fits her perfectly, even though it looks three sizes too big. Her ashy blonde hair is straight and loose, draped down her chest and back; and even with the distance between us, when our gazes align, those gorgeous blue eyes call to me.
Fidgeting with her fingers, she takes a step in my direction as she murmurs, “Hi.”
The sound of her voice breaks me from my daze, and reality weighs down on me, reminding me that she shouldn’t be here. No matter what I feel for her, there’s a beast that lives inside of me—a raging animal that won’t be tamed. Not by me. Not by anyone. She’s better off without me. She’s safer without me. I’m not so selfish that I can’t accept that as fact.
“What are you doing here?” I grumble, my feet still frozen to one spot.
Taking another step toward me, she replies, “You won’t answer my calls.”
I lock my jaw, looking away from her, forcing the reality of her persistence, her perseverance, and the strength of her goddamn will to the back of my mind, wishing not to give credence to the fact that no one—fucking no one has ever fought for me as hard and as long as she has.
“Leo, I’ve been waiting for hours. I sort of…I have to pee. Could you let me in?”
I stifle a growl, irritated as hell that she’s been sitting in this fucking hallway—all alone—in the middle of a foreign city—for fucking hours. Stomping toward my flat, I walk around her, unlock the door, then slide it open. I drop my shit just beyond the entrance, looking back at her as she gathers her coat and wheels in her bag.
As soon as she crosses over the threshold, her eyes are everywhere, her feet sluggish as she takes in the details of my space. Interrupting her perusal, I bark, “Only door to the right.”
Her gaze snaps in my direction, and I lift my chin toward the short hallway at the back of my studio. She nods, abandoning her bag before hurrying that way. It isn’t until she closes herself inside that I shut my door, locking it behind me. I then stare at her bag, my hands on my hips as I try and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with her.
I hear the door to the bathroom open before I can make up my mind, and I turn my head to watch her slowly make her way toward me. She stops halfway, standing between the space that serves as my bedroom and the area where my couch and TV are. She looks away from me, glancing around the space before she says, “It’s not what I imagined, I don’t think. But it suits you. Simple. Clean. It’s nice.”
Ignoring her observations, I repeat, “What are you doing here?”
“I told you, you won’t answer—”
“Ever think I’m not answering for a reason?” I argue, turning to face her directly.
“Yeah, actually, I do,” she states, holding her ground. “The problem is, all your reasons are asinine and I refuse to accept them. You think you’re protecting me, but you’re not. You’re not, Lee. Pushing me away is hurting both of us.”
I glower at her, saying nothing in reply. As much as I would like to deny her words, I won’t lie to her. I owe her at least that much.
Somehow encouraged by my silence, she closes the distance between us. She doesn’t hesitate to grab hold of the lapels of my leather jacket, pulling herself against me. My chest swells, the ache I’ve been battling for weeks intensifying.
Only Jill—only Jill would come close when she should run away.
“Leo, talk to me! Tell me I’m right—tell me you’ve been hurting too, that you know the truth—that we belong together.”
My scowl deepens, the desperation I hear in her voice making me weak. Still, I say nothing—and it elicits her ire.
“God, you’re infuriating!” she yells, beating her fists against my chest. “I’m in this. I’m. In. This. You are the one who came to Dillon and told me how it was going to be. You’re the one who came back when I was trying to let you go. You’re the reason I’m here, dammit! If you didn’t want me, you should have stayed away. Now? Now it’s too late, Leo. I swear to god, I wish I could hate you—I wish I could hate you the way you’re trying to make me hate you, but I don’t. I love you! After everything you’ve put me through, I love you so much, I—”
I can’t take it anymore. Seeing her all fired up has me so hard, I can’t even think straight. She’s never looked more beautiful than she does right now, my delicate, precious treasure spitting fire in an effort to demolish my efforts to stay away from her. I can’t—not anymore. She’s mine—always has been, always will be; and for reasons that rip me to shreds to admit, I cannot deny her. Not for another second.
She’s still speaking when I grab hold of either side of her face, dipping my head to press my lips against hers. I swallow the bit of her sentence she manages to mumble into my mouth before I silence her with my tongue.
Pushing her balled up fists against me, she shakes her head, yanking away from my kiss. “You’re such an asshole, Leo. Don’t kiss me if you’re going to—”
I cut her off again, this time, bending down to wrap her in my arms. As I straighten, I lift her off of her feet, but she still manages to wiggle away from my kiss again.
“I mean it, Lee,” she mutters, her voice lacking a little bit of the conviction it held a second ago. “This is it. If you—”
“Fuck, baby—what do you want me to say, huh? You need to hear that I can’t even fucking sleep not knowing where you are or what you’re doing—without knowing that you’re safe and that you’re mine? You need to hear how I listened to those goddamn voicemails so many times, I felt like a fucking pussy? What, Jill? What do you need, baby? Huh?
“You need to know how hard it was for me to walk away from you? That it’s the second hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my life? You want to know how it kills me to know that I’m the reason you cry? You need to know how far gone I am for you, Jill? How I know I should stay the hell away from you, but without you, all that’s left is pain and rage and regret? What, baby—fucking what do you want me to say?”
We’re both panting now, and I furrow my brow, my eyes falling closed as I touch my forehead to hers. My voice low and soft, I grumble, “You need to know how much I love you? Because I can’t tell you, Jill—I can only show you.”
“Lee?” she sniffles, her hands gently cupping the back of my neck. “Lee, look at me.”
I suck in a deep breath through my nose, blowing it out slowly before I lift my gaze to crash into hers. Her eyes are flooded with tears, but she blinks them away, swallowing hard before she whispers, “I just need you, Lee. All I’ve ever wanted from you is you.”
“Right here, baby,” I assure her, giving her a tight squeeze.
She hiccups, her fingers gripping me harder as she shakes her head at me. “If you leave me again, Lee—I won’t survive it.”
I stare at her, realizing what a dumbass I was for ever thinking that I could stay away. Couldn’t the first time, sure as shit can’t now. I’m not going anywhere, and I know that, but I’m still me. I still don’t deserve her. “Can’t promise I won’t fuck up,” I grunt.
“Me either,” she replies with a feeble shrug. “Nobody’s perfect.”
I grunt once more, and she circles her arms around me, pulling herself closer. Touching her nose to mine, she breathes, “No more walls, Leo. Let me in.”
My eyes locked with hers, I line up our lips and mutter, “Hear you, baby. We’re done talking now.”
THIS TIME, WHEN he smashes his lips against mine, I don’t pull away. I hold him as tight as I can manage, opening up as I pour myself out completely. I kiss him desperately, never feeling quite close enough. I’m still scared—still afraid that while I have him in my grasp now, he might change his mind and walk away again. Yet, regardless of my fear, I need him. I don’t fight the longing in my core or the incredible ache in my chest; rather, I let his passionate kiss knit me back together again; I let his firm hold sooth away the pain I’ve felt over the last few weeks. I surrender to him—the man who possess me entirely.
His tongue still tangled with mine, he carries me blindly further into the room. I sigh contentedly when he lays me across his bed, fitting himself between my legs as he continues to devour my mouth. When he pulls his lips from mine, he drags them over my chin and down my neck, peppering kisses down my chest. He uses his teeth to pull the fabric of my t-shirt up, uncovering my belly before he kisses and nips at my bare skin.
I watch as he pushes himself upright before he tugs off one of my Ugg boots, then the other. When my feet are bare, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and my panties, tugging them both down my legs. Once my ankles are free, I sit up, helping him as he pushes my sweater from my shoulders. I yank the thick fabric from my arms, and he pulls my shirt over my head, tossing it over his shoulder before he makes quick work of my bra.
