Page 45 of Addicted to You
I appreciated him saying that. Until I had started therapy, I’d never spent time discussing my emotions and fears. It had taken me a couple of weeks to start opening up in rehab, so it was all very new to me. But since getting to know Cash, I believed he was someone I could share those types of things with, and he wouldn’t judge or act as though my feelings were ridiculous.
“Thanks. It’s definitely going to take a while to work through everything. Turns out I’ve got some trust issues, and my therapist said I hold people at arm’s length because of it.”
He raised a brow. “I can guess being a celebrity doesn’t help with that.”
“Actually, I think the fame brought it on because I don’t remember having these issues when I was younger. However, in the last couple of years, it has been hard to figure out if people want to be around me because they want a real friendship or because they like the benefits that come with being seen with me. The drugs were an easy way for me to have a good time without worrying about other people’s intentions.”
“I get that. You and your bandmates are close though, right?”
I shifted so I was facing him. “At this point, they’re likely my only real friends. The other friends I had when I lived here in Boston were people who hung out with Donnie Pierce, and as you know, he’s not someone I need in my life. Since then, my lack of trust has kept me from putting any effort into connecting with people; although, I guess I could include you in the friend category now.”
He snorted. “You guess?”
“Well, I’m paying you to stay with me, which blurs the lines a little, but you’re kind of cool to hang out with.” I winked.
“Kind of cool? You sure know how to make a guy feel good.” He smirked. “And regarding your trust issues, I know your therapist will help you work on that, but there arethings we can do too.”
“Like what?”
“When you journal, you can reflect on times when you were able to trust someone and other times when people let you down,” he suggested. “From those experiences, we can work on creating healthy boundaries for people you meet so you don’t feel like they are taking advantage of you or your fame.”
Journaling was another new thing that I’d learned in rehab, and I found writing down my thoughts came more naturally to me than talking with others. In fact, I had turned some of the thoughts I had jotted down into song lyrics that I hoped to share with the band eventually.
“That might work,” I agreed.
“Good.” He set his laptop on the coffee table and stood. “Now go get ready. We’re going to hit up the gym.”
Since it wasthe middle of the day, the gym was relatively empty, which I preferred. Boston was better than LA when it came to getting recognized, but some people would still try to sneak photos of me when I was out, and mid-workout pics were never pretty.
“Where do you want to start?” Cash asked after we checked in at the front desk.
“Squats, probably, since it’s leg day.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” We walked over to the squat rack.
I set down my water bottle and towel before helping Cash add weight to the bar. “You want to go first?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Sure. As long as you don’t think watching me will intimidate you.”
I shook my head and laughed. “Dude, we’ve already worked out together a couple of times. We appear to be evenly matched.”
“True. Although I think you got me in the arms department.”
His comment forced my eyes to travel to his defined biceps. He may have thought I held an edge there, but I wasn’t convinced. The guy was cut.
Realizing I was checking him out, I shook my head and mumbled, “It’s probably the drums.”
He lifted the bar off the rack and began his set. I stepped back enough to give him space but was still close enough to help him if he needed a spot. From there, I had a perfect view of his ass as he lowered his hips.
What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I checking out Cash?
The clanking of the bar being put back in place pulled me from my inner freak-out.
“Your turn,” he said, moving out of my way.
“All right, old man. Let me show you how it’s done,” I teased.
“Old?” he scoffed. “I’m only twenty-eight.”
