Chapter 18
PRETTY KITTY
Phoenix
Not trusting Addie wouldn’t slip off the back of his bike, Phoenix exchanged keys with Xavier before heading home with a slightly loopy Addie tucked in his arms. She’d fallen asleep the second he buckled her into the passenger seat, her soft snores filling the truck’s cab the entire ride to their building.
He snuck incessant glimpses of her, making sure she was okay.
He now knew what people meant when they said they saw red.
From the moment that asshole first bumped into her, he’d been hyperaware and watching the guy’s every move. The only reason he didn’t hop off the stage at that first contact was because Addie was more than capable of putting that jerk in his place.
And she did … until things got out of hand and one thing led to another.
Phoenix wanted to kick his own ass for not acting sooner. If he had, he could’ve prevented not only the concussion, but the bruised wrist. He still silently berated himself as he parked in his garage spot and closed the driver’s side door a little too hard.
The heavy thud woke a groggy Addie.
She unbuckled herself and was fumbling for the handle when he opened the door and held out his arms expectantly. “Your carriage awaits, princess.”
“I’m perfectly fine walking.” A hand to his chest, she gently pushed him backward and walked to the building entrance slowly, but on her own two feet.
He stayed close, prepped to catch her if she went down. “Definitely not rushing, but if you let me carry you, you’ll get me shirtless again a lot quicker.”
She chuckled and immediately groaned, rubbing her temple. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Can’t do. I love hearing it,” he said honestly.
And truthfully, there was little he loved more.
“While tempting, I’ll hoof it myself.” Her small smile stole his breath nearly as much as her fingers sliding through his as she held his hand. “There was too much to-and-fro before, and I already threw up once tonight.”
Phoenix tucked her in his arms, chin resting on the top of her head, as they rode the elevator up to their floor in companionable silence. They headed for Addie’s apartment automatically, and Do-Re-Mi, as if sensing she didn’t feel well, waited patiently for them to step inside.
“Go get into something comfortable,” Phoenix ordered gently, “and once I feed the terrifying triplets here, I’ll come and help you.”
She rolled her eyes, but did as he requested. “I’m more than capable of putting on my own pajamas, rock star.”
“I know. But if you do it by yourself, I don’t get the pleasure of seeing if that red lacy thong really did come off your hot body.” He winked, unable to help himself.
“You mean the red panties still on your head?” Her gaze gently lifted and a soft smirk raised the corners of her mouth.
Phoenix paused while filling the dog bowls and slipped his fingers through his hair before finding—and yanking—the sexy garment off his head. “No wonder I was getting looks every time we stopped at a red light.”
Addie’s soft laughter filled the apartment as she headed toward her bedroom. “Sorry to disappoint you, but those panties have never touched this body.”
“Let me fantasize, okay?” Phoenix called out.
Phoenix quickly finished feeding the dogs and filled their water before digging through the fridge and grabbing something to make for Addie. By the time he finished a kick-ass PB&J, she’d stepped into the living room wearing cute fuzzy shorts and an oversized sweatshirt.
Looking fucking gorgeous, she settled on one end of the couch and pulled one of those gigantic knit blankets over her lap.
“You sure you don’t want to climb into bed and get some sleep?” Phoenix eased into the spot next to her, careful not to jostle her too much as he handed her the plated sandwich.
“Not gonna lie. That thought crossed my mind, but I’m not quite ready for bed.” She cast him a coy grin. “Why? Are you ready to call it a night already?”
“With you right next to me? Not in the least.” He rested his arm on the couch, right behind her shoulders, and she nestled closer, tucking snugly into his side.
“So what’s on the agenda? Fireside stories without the campfire?
A game of truth or dare? Although I should warn you, I almost always choose dare. ”
“Why does that not surprise me?” She giggled sleepily.
“I don’t know. I’ve always thought myself a man of mystery.” He grinned wickedly, waggling his eyebrows.
“No truth or dare, but I do have a question for you.”
“Ask away.”
“You seem to love pushing the limits. Why haven’t you tried doing more with your music?” She glanced up at him with genuine curiosity shining in her eyes. “I don’t mean the Stone Talons’s music, I mean—”
“I know what you mean.” He shrugged and took a nervous sip from his water. “You’ve obviously been talking to my sister.”
“Maybe a little, but you mentioned before that you didn’t really care for the rock star life and all the panty party songs. Why don’t you step back from performing to focus on songwriting?”
“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, but there’s a couple reasons.”
“Like?”
“Like I’d be letting the guys down, and those assholes are my family in every sense of the word.
We all made a commitment to each other when we decided to go for it, and now that we’re finally on the verge of making it big, I can’t just walk away.
” He studied her expression as she listened intently.
“Then there’s also the fact that songwriting isn’t a guarantee.
When inspiration hits and the music flows, it’s great.
When everything is stagnant, it’s … less great. ”
“And then you’re forced to ask your neighbor—a publicly denounced Anti-Aphrodite—to play the part of your Muse so you can bust out some lyrics,” Addie teased wryly.
“Exactly.” Phoenix’s fingertips absentmindedly stroked her arm. “The other risk of songwriting is that no one in the business will feel the same connection to your words as you do. It’s a risky gamble in multiple ways.”
“I get it. It’s a little like how I feel about Happily Ever Forever.”
His interest piqued, he tipped a glance in her direction and caught her nervously nibbling her bottom lip. “What do you mean?”
“In case you didn’t already know, love and I have a love-hate relationship,” Addie joked.
“No. Really?” Phoenix gasped. “I never would’ve guessed.”
She smacked his chest playfully, making him chuckle. “But Max loves everything about love. It practically oozes from her pores. It’s why we came up with the concept for Happily Ever Forever.”
“You started it for Maxi.”
“I didn’t have anything else I wanted to do.
” She nodded. “But I’ve felt like an imposter ever since.
Sometimes I think all this bad luck we’ve been having—the catastrophic events and botched matches—is karma punishing me for trying to be something I’m not.
Yet in a weird twist of fate, I still can’t think of anything else I’d rather do. ”
“Maybe the two of you should switch roles,” Phoenix suggested mischievously. “Shake things up.”
“Put me in charge of finding someone’s love match?” An open-mouthed, horror-struck look transformed Addie’s face. “That would be worse than working with ten Karleigh Kinkaid-Finks.”
They burst into laughter. Addie regretfully clutched her head with a groan, but giggles still slipped out.
They temporarily tucked the serious question aside and turned on the TV before playing a round of rock-paper-scissors to pick their movie.
Addie won and picked a horror flick. Before a massive boat anchor impaled the second victim, her soft snores filled the room.
Phoenix kept her close and finished the movie, waking her once an hour as instructed by the doc. She grumbled adorably while he settled her down on the couch and tucked the soft blanket around her. Only when she fell back fast asleep did he glance at his phone.
A billion notifications lit up his screen, most tagged videos of him punching the asshole from Bands on the Beach. He didn’t regret it one damn bit, except maybe not taking another swing. But the guy had been all talk, no bulk. Like most guys who pulled that macho shit.
Phoenix shut down his phone and tossed it aside.
The label would spin this one of two ways.
They’d either celebrate him leaning into his Naughty Nix persona, or be pissed because it was a punch thrown defending someone.
Phoenix couldn’t give a rat’s ass which path they chose.
All that mattered was protecting Addie, and if Roger Kinkaid had an issue with it, he—and Marcus—could kiss his ass.
Addie
Addie winced as the throbbing headache from her dreams slowly followed her to waking life. She pried her eyes open one lid at a time, thankful for the room’s relative darkness.
Her bedroom.
For the life of her, she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here because the last thing she remembered was telling the woman on the television screen to look behind her and not in the closet. Then, nothing.
Bits and pieces gradually returned.
Phoenix’s arm wrapping beneath her legs—yet again. Him gently laying her on her bed and tucking the blankets around her as she burrowed into them like a caterpillar wrapped in its cocoon.
Not that she’d mind a few months’ nap. That sounded pretty ideal right about now, exhaustion making it difficult to climb from bed and get her legs beneath her.
She glanced at the bedside table, smiling when she saw the bottle of acetaminophen and a water bottle, little Post-its that said swallow me and drink me stuck to them.
Something about Phoenix Cross was so damn disarming, and she both relished it and feared it at the same time. He’d come to her defense, metaphorical—and literal—fists swinging, and then handled her with such gentle care as he shuttled her to the medical tent.