Page 15 of Protecting Player #73 (Portland, Settlers #1 | Gridiron Warriors)
Brea
A n hour into lunch with Adeline, and my body still buzzes from T.K.’s texts. I wanted to continue, to respond with my own dirty thoughts, but I had no clue how or what to say. I mentioned the kittens because I was tempted to see about adopting one, but I’m not sure if T.K. is a cat man or not.
Would he let me even if he wasn’t?
“You’re thinking about him,” Addy teases as she sips her vanilla chai latte. “I can’t believe you just moved in with him.” She’s said that several times.
“Honestly, I got the feeling that if I hadn’t, he would have kidnapped me. This way, I had some sort of say.”
She shakes her head. Addy has known about my crush on T.K. since middle school.
“I suppose.” A thoughtful expression crosses her face. “What about those flowers last night? Any idea who they were from?”
If I had my guess, it’s the same woman who has been harassing me for the last few weeks–the woman in the leaked photos and videos of Tate.
I haven’t mentioned anything to anyone because I don’t want our relationship exposed.
Not until we’re ready. However, after the veiled threats in the text I received after leaving the post office, I won’t have a choice much longer.
“I have my suspicions, but I’d like to be sure first.” Which I think I am. “I’m sort of hoping with the move, they’ll leave me alone now.” Despite the earlier text’s implication, I’m trying to remain optimistic.
“You should tell T.K. or Alex. Somebody who can take action should know, B.” I hate that she’s right. “Thor is bad enough, but at least you know how to deal with him. Unless... Do you think it’s him?”
I shake my head. “It’s not Thor. He’s a harmless pain in the butt. He’s not the threatening type. Intimidation is more his style.” Which, honestly, only makes me angrier. He’s supposed to be my friend. He should be supporting me, and instead, he seems to be trying to control me.
“I worry about you, Brea.” Addy reaches across to grip my hand in hers. “I want you happy, and I can see that T.K. does it for you. It’s everything else that seems to be pushing you to the limits, and a person can only handle the pressure for so long.”
Softening at her words, I offer a smile. “He does, and I know you’re right. I’m just not sure how to approach it all. It’s overwhelming.” So many things in my life seem to be, lately, and I hate it.
“Let me help. I can give my brother a call. He’s a special victims detective now and can offer some advice on your options, at least.”
My hesitation to answer isn’t due to a lack of appreciation, but I’d rather that others not know how scared I am. The text, which threatened to expose more incriminating images of T.K. to the public, really rattled me. I was hired to clean up his image, to show that he’s a
good guy who was taken advantage of, and so far, the public and his fans love how much they’re getting to know him on a personal level.
The biggest problem is that she wants me to stay away from him, or she’ll do as she’s threatened.
Even if I thought for a second that he would accept me not being interested in him any longer, my body, my heart, would never forgive me.
So, yeah, I’m being selfish. I’m doing things I shouldn’t, with a man who is so off-limits I could lose my job.
I could lose my reputation. Do I care? Yes, but my heart is in complete control of what my brain and body are doing.
My desire to be with Tate is stronger than my fear of losing everything.
Am I foolish? More than likely. But I’ve never done something solely for myself before.
I’ve always put everyone else first. Alex, my parents, Adeline, and Thor, for a time, until he showed his true colors.
I was even willing to put T.K.’s reputation before our desires from what feels like the moment we met.
It was his refusal to let me do that which ultimately convinced me I deserved some things for myself. Love being one of them.
Deciding to change the subject, I ask Addy, “Do you want to go into that dress shop with me?” I point towards the storefront across the street, just a little way up. The blush-pink, thick-strapped, mid-thigh dress caught my attention as soon as I sat down.
“You just want the dress in the window, don’t you?” She laughs, knowing me well.
Everyone has always wondered about my obsession with wearing dresses and the reason behind it, imagining some complicated explanation. The truth is, I like how feminine they make me feel. My legs are toned and nicely tanned, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to enjoying showing them off.
Giving a coy smirk, I pay the bill, treating my friend despite her protests, and we walk over to the boutique. The bell tinkles when I open the door, alerting the staff to new customers.
The moment we step inside, it feels like exhaling.
Everything about the boutique is soft, quiet, and impossibly clean.
Like walking into a dream filtered through blush tones and lavender light.
The walls are milky pink–almost white–and the shelves lining them look as if they’re floating.
There’s so much space, but nothing feels empty. It’s intentional. Elegant.
I find myself slowing down without even realizing it. Glancing at Adeline, it seems she feels the same way.
The racks are rose gold, thin and delicate, and spaced far enough apart that each piece of clothing showcases its own little story.
Silky dresses in muted purples, structured jackets in creamy white, the occasional pop of a dusty fuchsia that holds my attention.
There are no loud prints, no messy piles, just beautiful fashions in calm, confident colors.
Even the air smells expensive. Subtle. Maybe violet and clean linen, it’s hard to tell. A round table sits near the front of the store, with perfectly folded sweaters, and in the center, a single glass vase holds a few pale orchids that lean gracefully to one side.
After snapping out of the haze, I seek out the dress in the window. My heart leaps when I notice it in multiple colors.
“You’re getting one of each, right?” Addy nudges me with her elbow before gripping my hand and pointing to a back corner. “There are matching shoes.”
After looking at a dress tag, I nearly swallow my tongue. If I were to purchase one in each color, that would be my clothing budget for the next four years. So I choose the one that initially grabbed my attention.
We continue wandering through the store, oohing and aahing at different designs before heading to the shoe racks Addy mentioned earlier. After finding a pair of ballet flats that match the dress, I go to the dressing rooms and try them on.
“Come on, Brea, let's see what it looks like,” Adeline insists.
“I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your horses.” Glancing at myself in the mirror, I twist and turn to get a better look. Gliding my hands down my sides, I find the fit flattering and can't help wondering what T.K. will think.
Stepping from behind the curtain, I await Adeline’s response, and she doesn't disappoint. “It should be illegal to look as good as you do, Brea. That new boyfriend of yours is going to melt when he sees you.” Her flattering words surge a blush up my chest and into my cheeks. I’ve never accepted compliments easily from others, but when they come from another woman, it always feels nice.
“Okay, what about you, Adeline? What are you getting?” If I'm buying something, she is, too. My friend doesn't spoil herself nearly as often as she should.
She debates for a bit before finally confessing in a whisper, “I think this store might be too pricey for me.”
I give her a dubious look but don't push it because she is right; the prices here are high. However, as I look at myself in the mirror again, I must admit that this one dress might be worth it. We linger a few minutes more, perusing a few racks that we hadn’t noticed at first, before finally making it to the register and paying for my items.
As we walk out, I stop because the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, giving me a tingling feeling that I'm being watched. Looking around, I don't notice anybody paying special attention to me, so I let it go.
Addy looks at me and asks, “Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” I murmur with one more look around.
We start walking again, enjoying the sunshine and talking about our plans for Halloween, debating whether to get matching costumes.
Before long, Addy has to get back to work.
As I say goodbye to my friend, I realize just how much I've missed hanging out with her over the last few months since graduating from college.
We walk our separate ways, but I decide to text her.
Me: I think we need to do monthly lunch or dinner or shopping dates. I’ve missed you.
Addy: I would love that, but will the boyfriend let you out of his sight long enough?
As I read her message, all I can think about is the sensation I felt when we left the store, and I wonder, did T.K. follow me today? Was that him watching me?
Me: I think I can get it figured out.
Continuing to play on my phone, with no interest in what’s on the screen, I discreetly eye my surroundings, hoping to spot the man who has become obsessed with me.