Look After Me (17 page)

“Sad as in tragic. You must have really loved breakfast to hate it the way you do now.”

She’s right, I did love it. It was one of my favorite things to do with Ava; it was
our
thing. Some couples have a song, but we had breakfast dates at Denny’s. “I did, and now whenever I see a pancake, I want to go all Texas Chainsaw Massacre on its ass.”

A bubble of sweet laughter escapes Addison’s lips, but when her smile broadens too much, she winces, touching her lip tenderly with her fingertips. “Pancakes?” she questions bemused.

“Yep, it’s all Ava used to order. Hence why I hate them.”

She scrunches her nose up with revulsion. “I hate pancakes, I don’t know how anybody can eat them. I’m more of a french toast girl myself or when my body function is that of an eighty-year-old, just plain old toast and cereal.” She smiles gently before taking a bite of cereal. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips. Just knowing that she hates pancakes, makes me incredibly happy but that very feeling leaves me confused all over again.

She finishes her cereal just as I’m taking my last sip of tea. With the bowl in her good hand, she goes to stand up, but I’m one step ahead of her and halt her in her steps. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“I was just going to put this in the dishwasher.”

I take the bowl from her hand and give her a stern look. “No. The only thing you’re doing today is taking it easy. I will clean up.”

She rolls her eyes but sits back in her chair. “You’re really bossy, did you know that?” she says with what I assume is a smile but with her lip so swollen it’s hard to tell.

“Only when it’s necessary.” I wink. Once I’ve finished loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters, I turn to Addison, whose eyes are solely on me. When her eyes don’t falter, I lean back against the counter and cross my arms, a smile spreading on my face.

“Having fun ogling me?”

She startles at my words, and even though her face is covered with black and blue bruises, I can still see a hint of redness glowing from underneath.

“I was not ogling
you.
I was—”

“Ogling,” I finish for her. “It’s fine, I get it. I’m just too damn sexy.”

The redness in her cheeks continues to burn fiercely. Even though I was only joking, I can’t help thinking that maybe she was really ogling me and that’s why she’s blushing like a high school chick with a major crush right now. I remember the way she reacted from the simplest touch of my hand just last night, but does she like me in a sexual way? Has she visualized me the way I’ve visualized her?

Hot, naked, and wet from the shower.

Shit.

I can’t think like that. We can’t go there. Ever. We’re friends and I can’t chance losing that. I need her more as a friend than I need to get laid. My dick disagrees with that statement, but I’m strong enough not to let my dick rule my head.

“You only wish I was ogling you.” She laughs, her pink cheeks finally dying down. “So what are you up to today?”

I narrow my eyes, confused by her question. “Um . . . I’m staying here with you. In fact, I have another thirteen hours left.”

“Seriously, I’m fine. You don’t have to stay here all day. You probably have better things to do.”

“I have no plans today. And even if I did, I’d cancel them immediately. I want to stay and make sure you’re okay, and the doctor said you needed someone with you for twenty-four hours.”

“You really don’t have to. I can call one of my girlfriends to come and stay with me.”

“I’m already here, and I know the signs to look for. I’d hate if something was to happen to you and I weren’t here, so for the sake of my own conscience, I’d like to stay until you’re out of the woods. Besides, you’d only do something stupid like clean your apartment if I weren’t here.”

She smiles her breathtaking smile. “Thank you. And you’re right, I would.” On a deep breath, she gets to her feet and hisses out in pain, almost keeling over from the intensity of it. I’m at her side instantly.

“Are you okay?”

She closes her eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath before her pretty hazel eyes land back on mine. “Yeah, it’s just everywhere hurts.”

Finally.
The way she was downplaying her injuries, I’d thought that she was some kind of medical marvel who felt no pain. “Are you finally accepting that you’re not just a
little
worse for wear?”

She wraps her arm around her stomach, wincing. “Yes, it actually feels like I’ve been hit by a truck. Maybe I need to go lie down.” I follow Addison to her bedroom and watch as she lies gently back on the bed, her head nestled against the pillow.

“Can you get me a glass of water so I can take my pills?”

“Sure thing.”

By the time I’m back with her water, she’s sound asleep and snoring adorably. I’ve become especially fond of that sound during the past eleven hours. Leaving her to sleep for a while, I head into the living room and sit down on the sofa to finally take in my surroundings.

It’s obvious Addison is extremely organized because not a single thing is out of place. The apartment is small, but the living room is considerably spacious. It’s contemporary yet cozy with plush cream carpets, coffered ceilings and cream walls. Above the cream sofa sits a canvas of the New York City skyline at night with twinkly lights strewn around the edge, and I can just imagine when those lights are switched on they would fade in with the golden hues that glow along the façade of the buildings. On the far left corner sits a white bookcase that is bursting with books with only a small selection of Blu-rays on the very bottom shelf. Her matching white coffee table and shelves are scattered with candles: floating candles, pillar candles, centerpiece candles. You name it, she has it. It smells incredible.

It smells of Addison.

My favorite part about her entire apartment is the flat screen television that’s mounted on the wall. It’s got to be at least fifty-five inches. I can just imagine the games you could watch on this bad boy. It would almost feel as though you were there, at the actual game. This flat screen is pretty much the flat screen of all flat screens. I need to watch all the games here from now on; perhaps it could be an extra excuse to spend more time with Addis—

What the hell?

Deep down I know I’m beginning to like her more than a friend—a hell of a lot more than a friend—and it fucking scares me. I can feel the barriers I’ve carefully put in place slowly beginning to crumble with every single minute spent with Addison. It leaves me with a raw vulnerability. Not the kind of vulnerability that sent me to rehab but the kind of vulnerability that tells me that if I’m not too careful, I’ll find myself falling fast.

And that can’t happen.

I won’t let it.

I find my way out onto the small balcony and take in the impressive view of Lake Union. It’s crisp outside and I embrace the chill, losing myself in the amazing view. I prefer the summer season, but Seattle in the fall, with the leaves turning and casting an incredible auburn color throughout the city, is an amazing sight to behold.

When I finally bring my ice-cold body back inside to check on Addison, I find her still asleep. I decide to draw her a bath with some fruity bubble bath I find, thinking the soak will help ease her muscles. Once the bath is drawn, I head back into the bedroom to wake her up, still not comfortable letting her sleep more than two hours at a time. She’s already awake, looking directly at me with a sleepy smile.

“Hi,” she says in a wispy voice.

“Hey. How you feeling?” I make my way over to the bed and sit on the edge.

She slowly sits up, hissing in pain as she does. “Still sore but a little better after my nap,” she finally says once she gets into a comfortable position. Thoughtlessly, I place my hand on her leg, caressing ever so slightly against the bare skin. I watch as her eyes flick to her leg, her skin rippling with delicate goose bumps under my hand as she solely concentrates on the area I’m touching. Whenever I’m around her, the need to touch her becomes an instinctual thing, and the more I fight it, the more I want to touch her.

Fuck.

This isn’t good. I pull away, ignoring the way my hand feels empty without her touch. “I drew you a bath,” I say, trying to focus my brain on anything other than my feelings towards her. “I thought it would be easier than taking a shower.”

Her eyes flick back to mine and she gives me a dreamy smile. “A bath sounds so amazing right now, thank you.” She slowly begins to move and I help her to her feet, physically wincing when she groans out in pain, almost as if it’s my pain. After a few long seconds, she straightens up and heads slowly towards the bathroom.

“Let me know if you need any help.” She slowly turns, amusement dancing wildly in her eyes at my suggestive words. “I didn’t mean it like
that.
I just meant that I’m here if you get sick or you know, can’t get out of the bath because of your sore muscles.”

She laughs before walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I fall back on the bed, baring my hands over my face with frustration.

Jesus, I need to get a fucking grip.

After her bath, she makes her way into the living room, gently brushing through her damp hair that hangs loosely down her shoulders. She’s changed into lounge pants, a tank top, and a pair of cute bunny slippers. I hit the mute button on the remote, silencing the football game I’ve found myself engrossed in for the past forty-five minutes. She takes a seat next to me on the sofa, tucking her legs under her butt.

“How was your bath?” I ask, leaning back against the sofa as I turn towards her.

“It was amazing,” she says with a relaxed sigh. “I couldn’t wash my hair because I need to keep the laceration on my head dry, but I managed to get some of the dried blood out.” She continues to comb through her damp hair with a hairbrush.

“You look a little better than you did earlier,” I say, taking note of the color in her cheeks.

“I don’t feel it but the bath definitely helped.”

I watch as she struggles to maneuver the hairbrush with only one hand, since her other arm is elevated by the sling—and the fact she’s still in a lot of agonizing pain. “Here, let me do that.”

She smiles as she passes me the brush and shifts a little closer. We’re quiet for a moment as I gently brush through the soft curls of her damp hair, careful not to catch her abrasion. A relaxed sigh escapes her mouth and suddenly the task of brushing her hair becomes a difficult one as it takes everything within me to stop my cock from misbehaving.

She shakes her head with a soft chuckle, and it’s a momentary distraction that I welcome. “It didn’t take long for you to find the flat screen, huh?”

“What can I say? I’m a guy and that television is impressive. I couldn’t resist trying it out. It’s awesome.”

She laughs a little. “It’s pretty great but I don’t use it to its full capacity, so you’re more than welcome to use it whenever you want.”

I smile but shake my head. “No, I couldn’t impose like that.”

“You wouldn’t be. It’ll be nice to have the company once in a while. It gets kind of lonely living on your own, you know?”

I understand what she means. When I was in Afghanistan, I was surrounded by my fellow soldiers. We slept under the same roof, we ate together, and hell, we even showered together. There was never time to embrace the silence, unless you were lying in your bunk at night when everybody else was asleep, but I usually fell asleep first. To go from constant noise and chatter to utter silence like I have, you find a new meaning to the word loneliness.

“Okay sure.” I smile. “I’d love to keep you company by hogging your TV.”

After a few minutes of watching the football game still on mute and continuing to brush the tendrils of Addison’s hair, she turns to me. “Why don’t you head on home for a while? Get showered and changed. You’ve got to feel pretty gross in yesterday’s clothes.”

I look down at my crumpled attire, tempted by the offer, but I know I can’t leave her here alone. “As tempting as that sounds, I really can’t leave you.”

“I’ll be okay for an hour. I promise I won’t move from this couch the whole time that you’re gone.”

I smile at the twinkle in her eyes. She does seem a little better. I suppose leaving her for an hour would be okay. And she can always call me if she starts to feel worse. I’m only ten minutes away in the truck if something was to happen. Handing her the brush back I say, “Okay, but if I see that you’ve moved an inch while I’m gone, there will be hell to pay.”

She shifts, laughing softly, sinking her body deeper into the sofa and resting her head against the back of the sofa. “I won’t budge an inch, I promise. I’m going to flick through these boring channels until I get to the Kardashians, and then watch them purely out of curiosity.”

I choke out with horror. “Please tell me you’re joking?”

She smiles. “What can I say? It’s one of my guilty pleasures.”

“And just when I thought we could be friends, you go and ruin it by saying the K word.” I stand up, loving the sound of the laugh that resonates from those bruised yet very beautiful lips. “Where’s your phone?”