Adore Me Read online

  Adore Me

  Book 3 Austin Singles

  Copyright © 2019 Kelly Elliott

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978–1–943633–51–7

  For more information on Kelly and her books, please visit her website

  www.kellyelliottauthor.com

  Cover Design by:

  RBA Designs

  www.rbadesigns.com

  Cover photo by:

  Shannon Cain

  www.photographybyshannoncain.com

  Developmental Editor:

  Elaine York

  www.allusiongraphics.com

  Content Editor:

  Sarah Weber

  www.yellowbirdediting.com

  Proofing Editor:

  Hollie Westring

  www.hollietheeditor.com

  Interior Design and Formatting by:

  Christine Borgford

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  ADORE ME

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Other Books by Kelly Elliott

  THE MOMENT I stepped into the dark bar, I had to adjust my eyes. It was loud with the sounds of music playing, shot glasses hitting together, and voices coming from one side of the large room. As I inhaled the mixing smells of old wood and beer, I smiled, and the tension in my shoulders melted away. I could have gone to Sedotto. It was one of the hottest bars in Austin, and it happened to be owned by one of my best friends, Tucker. But I needed to be alone in my own thoughts. This bar was my escape—the place I could be and let go without having to explain to anyone why I needed to get shit-faced. This was the one time of year I attempted to smother the guilt, hurt, and anger. The one day I simply wanted to forget that night. When I moved from Austin to New York after college, I missed this place. After only a year, I had secretly flown back to Austin during that week, and I’d been making the annual pilgrimages to my favorite bar ever since. This was my first time in since I’d made the move back to Texas.

  I missed Butch, the owner of the bar. At least that was what I told myself. Even though I only saw him once a year, he had become a friend. I guess Butch was a part of the therapy I needed to keep the demons from that night from coming back to haunt me. That and caving. I made my way to the bar once I caught sight of the old man.

  “This is what I need,” I mumbled as I walked toward the bar. I needed a place where I knew no one would judge me or throw in a few jabs at my expense. Everyone thought I was someone I wasn’t. Blake the manwhore. Blake the player. Blake, the guy who only wants to have a good time. It was an easy part to play, and it kept all the questions about when was I ever going to find someone to settle down with at bay. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to settle down and get married someday, but there had only been one woman who had even come close to making me think for the briefest moment that it might be possible. And at the time, she was out of my reach. Hell, she still was, if I wanted to be honest with myself. I carried two dirty little secrets with me. One I never wanted to talk about, and the other . . . The other was another torment. I had a thing for my best friend’s sister. Ever since the first time Nash brought her around, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Now when I was near her it nearly killed me to pretend I wasn’t attracted to her.

  I knocked on the bar as I sat on the old leather stool. I was positive Butch hadn’t changed them since the 1970s. The time-hardened leather barely gave way as I sat on it.

  Butch made his way over. He smiled and set a glass of draft beer and a shot of whiskey in front of me. With a smile, I picked up the shot and downed it. I had found this bar when I was out walking one night and stumbled upon it. It was the anniversary of her death, and like each year when that day came around, I’d been attempting to escape the memories. That was when I found Butch’s Place.

  “You read my mind, Butch.”

  He let out a rumbling laugh and then coughed. The years of working in a smoke-filled bar were catching up with the old man.

  “Bullshit,” he said, refilling the shot glass. "You and I both know why you come here, and it’s not for my winning personality.”

  I held up the glass again and smirked. “Amen. Nothing like a good shot of whiskey to drown the problems.”

  He nodded. “Good whiskey like this is scarce.”

  “A lot of good things in life are hard to come by.”

  Lifting a brow, he asked, “You still haven’t found you a girl to settle down with?”

  This time I laughed. “No, Butch. That is the last damn thing I am looking for.”

  Leaning over the bar, he stared at me like he had all the answers in the world. “Blake, one day it will hit you, and you won’t know what to fucking do when you meet the one.”

  I forced a smile. I had to keep myself from telling him it had already hit me a long time ago. “Is that right? How do you mean, old wise one?”

  Butch took a step back, crossed his arms over his large chest, and smirked. He was an ex-military man. His son had also been in the military and had committed suicide, nearly destroying Butch. He didn’t talk much about him at all. The only thing I knew was it had happened around the same time as my nightmare. We had both agreed a few years ago that neither nightmare was something we cared to speak about.

  “I mean you’ll know when the right one comes. You’ll feel all these confusing feelings all at once, and you won’t know what to make of ’em. She’ll make you think you’re going crazy. You’ll discover that you would rather die than see her hurt. You’ll spend a small fortune to simply hear her laugh and see her smile.”

  I laughed again. “Yeah, sometimes I don’t think that was ever in the cards for me, old man.”

  He shrugged. “You haven’t looked into the right set of eyes.” He lifted a brow. “Or maybe you have, and she got away.”

  I took a drink of my beer and decided it was time to change the subject.

  “What have you been up to?”

  With a shake of his head, Butch took the hint and moved on. “Running a bar. What about you, Blake? How’s life treating you now that you’ve moved back to Austin?”

  “You know I only moved back so I wouldn’t have to fly here once a year to see your sorry ass.”

  This time it was his turn to laugh. For some strange reason, Butch’s deep rumble reminded me of the Santa Claus my mother used t
o take Dustin and me to see at the country club every year.

  “I believe it. Like I said, winning personality.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been busy trying to live the perfect life. Working, spending time with friends, and working some more. About the only thing that keeps me sane these days are my friends.”

  He nodded. “Good friends are hard to come by. Don’t ever let them go.”

  Something caught Butch’s eye, and he turned. He held up a finger and yelled at someone at the other end of the bar. “Stay away from her. Do you hear me?”

  When I glanced over to see who Butch was pointing to, my mouth nearly dropped to the bar and my heart felt like it stalled in my chest.

  Holy fucking shit. Could it really be her?

  “Morgan?”

  Butch turned back. “You know Morgan?”

  Sighing, I pushed my fingers through my hair.

  Jesus. How in the hell do I answer that question? Yeah, Butch. I know Morgan. She’s the girl who stole my heart years ago, and she has no fucking clue.

  “Yeah, I know her. She’s my best friend’s sister.”

  I turned back to Butch and asked, “How do you know Morgan?”

  “She was Mike’s girlfriend.”

  My heart dropped to my stomach. “Is that why she’s here? Is today . . .” I let my question slip away.

  Nodding, he faced Morgan again, and I followed his gaze. “Yeah, today’s the day. She comes in here once a year and gets shit-faced, just like you. I’m surprised the two of you haven’t run into each other yet, doing the same damn thing year after year.”

  I swallowed hard as I continued to look at her. What were the odds Morgan and I would be coming to the same bar each year, during the same time? How had we not run into each other? I felt the heat of Butch’s stare and knew he wanted to say something but was having a hard time. We were both quiet for a good minute before Butch spoke again. This time his voice had a hint of sadness in it.

  “She blames herself for his death.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Probably the same reason I do. I let her have her day without any questions, the same as I do for you. Then I make sure she gets home. We used to meet once a month for dinner, but I’ve started backing off of it. She needed to move on, and I felt like that was her way of hanging on to one last piece of Mike.”

  I refocused on Morgan.

  “You know her well then, I’m guessing, since she’s Nash’s sister?”

  Turning back to Butch, I nodded. “You know Nash?”

  “I do. We met long ago. Mike and Morgan dated in high school.”

  My face heated after I realized what a stupid question that had been. Of course he would know Morgan’s family. Hell, she was engaged to his son.

  “I, um, met her in college. Nash had brought her to a party and introduced her to everyone. We’re friends, but for a while I really only saw her when she was with her brother or were at the same party or something. She never hung around with us in college, but her best friend—Kaelynn—is engaged to Nash now, so she comes around more often.”

  “Yeah, she told me about that. I’m happy for Nash.”

  My eyes swung back over to her and I watched as she downed the rest of the beer she was drinking.

  “Damn, Nash wouldn’t be too pleased she was here alone.”

  Butch didn’t argue. His bar wasn’t the place people like Morgan—or, hell, even people like myself—hung out. It was in an older area of Austin, not a bad area, just not a place where people our age hung out. The patrons here were mostly vets who served with each other or had heard about the bar from other friends.

  “Why would she do that to herself?” I asked, feeling a bit guilty I hadn’t known about the silent suffering she was putting herself through.

  Butch scoffed. “She’s doing the same thing you’re doing: trying to drown out the pain.”

  I swallowed hard again then looked from Morgan to Butch. “You don’t know how to sugarcoat things, do you, Butch?”

  “No. I do not.”

  My eyes landed back on Morgan. She was two sheets to the wind, and my heart ached for her. Morgan came here to feel closer to Mike. That had to be hard on Butch as well. He’d already had to deal with his son taking his own life six years ago. Mike had PTSD and had recently gotten out of the army. Now it all made sense. I knew Morgan had dated a guy named Mike who had been in the army. I knew he killed himself, and I knew that was what had driven her to go into counseling. But I couldn’t believe that her Mike was Butch’s Mike.

  I rubbed the back of my neck. Jesus, Greene. Way to be so fucking self-absorbed.

  “How did she get here?”

  “Luber.”

  Jerking my head back to look at Butch, I asked, “Huh?”

  “Wuber?”

  “Uber?” I asked with a slight chuckle.

  “Whatever it’s called. She always has them drop her off, then I make sure she gets home, whether I drive her or Lucy does.”

  Lucy was Butch’s daughter. She worked behind the scenes of the bar, managing everything. By Butch’s own admission, this place wouldn’t have been able to stay afloat had it not been for her business sense.

  The guy who had been trying to talk to Morgan walked back up to her, and Butch looked like he was about to lose his shit.

  I held up my hand to stop him. “Let me take care of it, Butch.”

  He reached across the bar and grabbed my forearm. “She’s important to me, Blake.”

  The look in his eyes made me pause for a moment. It felt like he had looked deep into my soul and could see the secret feelings I had harbored for Morgan. I laughed at his comment, attempting to play it off. “You don’t scare me. Her brother on the other hand—he scares me. He’d probably have me killed and dumped into a foundation so he could have a skyscraper built over me.”

  Butch grinned. “He probably would.”

  Making my way over to Morgan, I nearly sent Nash a text, then stopped. This might not be something Morgan wanted her brother to know about. I could respect that. I shoved the phone back into my pocket.

  “Hey, fancy meeting you here,” I said, sitting on the stool next to her and giving the guy who was trying to talk to her a dirty look. He took the hint and quickly walked away.

  Swinging her body around, Morgan stared at me for the longest time. Something in those sky-blue eyes made my breath hitch for the slightest moment. I wasn’t sure if it was because I saw the same lost look in her eyes that I saw in mine every morning, or if it was because she was looking at me like she never had before.

  “Blake?”

  Her voice was low and very drawn out. She was drunk. Very drunk.

  “How’s it going, Morgan?”

  She smiled, and I couldn’t help smile back at her.

  “How’d you me know here?”

  I leaned in closer. “What?”

  Morgan giggled and then lifted her glass. “Butch! Another one, and two for my good-looking friend here.”

  My brows lifted, and I glanced over to Butch. I was hoping he would say no. He looked at me with the strangest expression before turning back to Morgan.

  “Sweetheart, you’ve had enough.”

  She huffed and attempted to fold her arms over her chest. “Party pisser.”

  “Pooper . . . I believe you meant to say,” I said with a laugh.

  When her head swung back at me, she attempted to steady herself. “You have to go poop?”

  I shook my head. “No, Morgan, you said . . . never mind. Listen, how are you getting home?”

  “Home? I don’t want to go home.” She spoke slowly, appearing to be thinking a little too hard.

  “Butch cut you off. He said it was time to head home, princess.”

  Her lower lip came out in the most adorable pout. God almighty, how in the hell had I never noticed how blue her eyes were? They were the color of the sky after a spring rain. Her blond hair was piled up on top of her head in a sloppy mess of a bun, with pi
eces falling down and framing her face. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t give a shit. I let my gaze rake over her body slowly.

  She was hot as hell. Her body was perfect. Not too skinny, with curves and tits any man would want to squeeze in his hands.

  Oh hell, knock it off, you idiot. Stow the dirty thoughts, and remember who this is. She’s the goddamn reason why you left Texas.

  My entire body heated, but I quickly put the flame out by remembering this was Morgan.

  Nash’s sister.

  His baby sister.

  “Butch, what’s Morgan’s bill? I’ll pay it.”

  Walking over to us, he tapped on the bar. “She drinks for free in here.”

  I smiled. “Looks like we both enjoy benefits from knowing the owner.”

  “You knows Butch?” Morgan shouted as she clapped her hands and damn near fell off her stool.

  Reaching out to steady her before she tumbled off the stool, I said, “Whoa. I think it’s time we get you home, princess.”

  Her teeth dug into her lip as she gazed up at me with those lost eyes that also looked like she was wanting something more. I ignored the way she felt in my arms and cleared my throat.

  “What’s your address, Morgan?”

  “Um . . . I don’t remember!” she said with a giggle. “I just moved in!”

  I turned to Butch, and he shrugged. “I have no clue. She recently bought a little house in town.”

  With a sigh, I reached over and grabbed Morgan’s phone. If she was anything like her brother, she would have her address in her phone somewhere.

  Searching through it, I smiled when I opened her notes and saw it.

  My new address.

  1123 South Iron Street

  Austin, TX 78745

  With Uber pulled up on my phone, I typed in Morgan’s address and hit enter. There was a car five minutes away. “I’m taking her home, Butch.”

  “Thank you, Blake. That means a lot to me.”

  It shocked me how drunk Morgan really was. It was one thing for Butch to let me get drunk, but for him to let Morgan get this wasted sort of pissed me off. I already knew Nash would be livid as fuck if he knew.

  “Why in the hell would you let her get this shit-faced?” I asked as he held the door open for me to get her out.