Page 4 of Stay With Me
I watch Kelsea for a few more seconds from my post outside the shop. I don’t want to interfere if she doesn’t need me to. She’s a capable woman, and I’d never want to make her feel like anything less. She slowly puts more and more distance between her and the man, bending down under the counter and standing back up with her purse on one shoulder. As she bends down, I watch the man ogle her ass like she’s a T-Bone and he’s a starving dog. That’s not gonna fucking happen.
Before I can stop myself, I’m swinging my leg over my bike and stomping my way into the store. The bell over the door jingles, announcing my arrival. Kelsea and the man both snap their attention to me immediately. I see relief flash across Kelsea’s face, which only makes me more irritated. The man looks over at me with confusion. I’m sure he’s wondering why a guy like me would even come inside a shop like this. I make my way to Kelsea with sure, steady footsteps. She steps around the counter towards me and I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her into my side with no hesitation. She lets out a small gasp at our connection, and I kiss her temple.
“Hey, babe. How was your first day?” I ask, not even bothering to acknowledge the man who made her so uncomfortable. She seems stunned for a moment, but quickly snaps out of it.
“Hi, Ev. It was a great day. Malcolm here is my boss,” she says, gesturing to the man behind the counter. He stands there silently with his arms crossed, a tight expression on his face.
I reach my hand out to him. “Nice to meet you, Malcolm. Thanks for taking care ofmygirl today.” I emphasize that last part, leaving no room for argument. I know what he’s thinking, and he needs to think again. He shakes my hand limply, and I squeeze a little tighter than necessary until I see him wince.
“I didn’t know Kelsea had a boyfriend,” he says, pulling his hand from my grip and pursing his lips.
“Aww, you didn’t talk about me, goddess?” I ask, looking over at her with a playful grin, hoping she plays along.
“Well, ya know. It’s just the first day,sugar.I was just learning the ropes from Malcolm here.” She leans into my grip and slides her palm up my chest. Her hand burns a path up my skin, and I have to fight to keep from crashing my lips onto hers.
“Well, I’m glad you had a good day. You ready to go home?” I jerk my head towards my bike and lock eyes with Malcolm across the counter.
“Yeah, let me just say bye to Magnolia and I’ll be ready.” She slips out of my hold, and I instantly feel the loss of her warmth against my skin. I don’t break eye contact with her asshole manager as she squeezes past him into the back room. We stand still, glaring at each other, for several long minutes.
“You work at that little tattoo shop down that street, right?” He asks, judgement written all over his face.
“Yeah, I actually own that little tattoo shop,” I reply, not bothering to acknowledge his attempt at talking down to me. I’ve heard this kind of bullshit all my life. It’s nothing new coming from him.
Kelsea emerges from the stockroom with another girl. The girl looks like the perfect 50s pin-up model, her red hair perfectly styled and her sundress hugging hercurves in all the right places. She’s beautiful, but even so, she doesn’t hold a candle to the woman next to her.
“Thank you so much for all your help today, Maggie,” Kelsea tells her, giving her a hug and walking back to me.
“It’s no problem.” Magnolia eyes me over Kelsea’s shoulder. “Damn, Kels. You didn’t tell me you were dating fucking James Dean!” she says, drawing a full-bodied laugh out of Kelsea. I scoff at her laughter and snag her hand as she steps closer to me, lacing our fingers together.
“Yeah, she tries to keep me a secret. Gotta keep the ladies away from me somehow, right, goddess?” I throw a wink at Kelsea, and she rolls her eyes. “Lets go, babe. It was nice meeting you both.” Kelsea waves over her shoulder and we walk out of the shop to my bike.
“Sorry about all that. I really appreciate you doing that, though,” Kelsea says as soon as the door closes. She doesn’t pull her hand from mine, and I try not to read too much into that.
“It’s no problem, Kels. Whats up with that guy, anyway? I could tell from out here that he was making you uncomfortable.” I run my hand up and down her arm reassuringly, and she shivers at my touch. It’s nice to know she's just as affected by me as I am by her.
“It’s nothing, really. He’s just a perv. Nothing I’m not used to,” she says with a shrug.
“Thats not nothing, Kelsea. And if he’s yourmanager, that’s wildly inappropriate.” I pull her to a stop in front of the curb. “Do I need to go back in there and make sure he understands that you’re off limits?”
She scoffs, and I pin her with a glare. “No, Everett. I think your little show in there did the job. I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, you know,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. The action pushes her tits up so perfectly that I can’t help but stare. She clears her throat, drawing my attention back to her face. “Men. You’re all the same,” she says.
“Hey, don’t group me in with that fucking guy. At least you want me to check out your ass when you bend over,” I say with a smirk. She huffs out an exasperated breath and pushes past me to climb on my bike. “Not gonna even try to deny it, huh?” I ask, sliding onto the seat in front of her.
“Just take me home, Everett,” she says, sliding her helmet on and wrapping her arms around my waist. I see a tiny smirk playing at the corner of her lips, though.
My body shakes and I laugh at her embarrassment. She wants me to look just as much as I know I shouldn’t. I try to shake the feeling of Kelsea’s body pressed against mine from my mind as I pull out onto the road that takes us back to the townhouse. I know it was all an act for that slime ball she works for, but I’m shocked at how much I wish it wasn’t.
five
Some daysI wish I could forget all the times Everett has ever shown me the other sides of him. To the outside world, he is a mystery. I think he likes it that way. The persona of a smooth talking playboy is the one he shows everyone else. Unfortunately, I've seen behind his mask. I’ve seen how kind and caring he can be. After my attack, the lengths he went to just to make sure I was comfortable and taken care of shocked me. I wish I could continue to see him as a player and nothing more, but I just can’t.
The way he came to my rescue last week after Malcolm started acting like a creep was probably nothing but a fun game to him. But Malcolm hasn’t tried to hit on me since that day, so I’m grateful. I won’t tell him how great it felt when he pulled me to his side and pressed his lips to my head. I won’t tell him how much Iwish he would have taken me back home and ravished my body until we were both so worn out we couldn’t move. And I definitely won’t tell him I think I’m in love with him. I’m not sure how long I can continue living under the same roof, my heart longing to be intertwined with his, but remaining hundreds of miles apart. No, I won’t tell him any of that.
Next to Ember, Everett has become my best friend. After my attack, he saw me at my absolute worst, but still he persisted. He made sure the nurses were changing my bandages every two hours without fail. He still makes sure I go to physical therapy to help strengthen my core muscles again. He annoyingly tells me almost every day that I need to take some kind of self-defense class, or at least let him teach me a few things, but I'm not interested. The situation with Justin was a freak occurrence.
I’ve never chosen to believe that we live in a frightening world, even though I know there are evils out there. After growing up with a dad who was both a city councilman and a mean drunk, I'm not ignorant of how terribly people can act towards each other. Hell, most of the terrible behavior I witnessed came from my own parents.
As the only daughter of one of Alabama’s oldest and wealthiest families, my mother was brought up as the perfect southern belle. She spent her days organizing charity functions and volunteering at my school as oftenas possible when I was a kid. Anything she could do to show the outside world that we were the perfect family. As soon as the sun set on the Sawyer house, she showed her true self. Between flirting with every boyfriend I ever brought home and telling me I was pretty, but I could always be prettier, I’d had enough ‘maternal advice’ to last me a lifetime. My family was fake, all for show.
