Watch and Protect

Addonis

Day 30. The air is cold this morning, nipping at my skin as I sit by the corner window of the Starbucks, nursing my cup of coffee, watching the world bustle outside. I don’t know why I come here—maybe it’s the warmth, or maybe it’s the woman who walks in every day, like clockwork, her presence pulling me in like a magnetic force. My name is Addonis Boudreaux, ex-SEAL from New Orleans, now in Aurora, Colorado, trying to build something that matters. My family, my brother’s security business, it’s my new life. But every day, she comes in.

I leaned back in my chair, my aviators pushed low on my nose, just enough to see her as she enters. There she is—Treslyn. Her name, or at least the one she gives. And every morning, without fail, I watch her order the same thing: a Caramel Crunch frappé, double blended. I know that drink by heart now, just like I know the sound of her soft footsteps as she crosses the threshold.

I trace every detail of her. The way her curls cascade down her back, the delicate sway of her hips in those leggings that fit her like a second skin. The quiet confidence in her stride. She’s like a poem, every movement a verse. The low hum of the coffee machines, the scent of freshly ground beans, and her voice—a hushed melody as she calls out her order.

Today is different. I’m not staying hidden in the shadows, watching from afar. Today, I decide to break the pattern. I lean over to Aphrodite, my baby sister, and tell her to let the woman know her drink is on me. A simple gesture, a pay-it-forward moment, but as she walks in and flashes that brief smile at the barista, something twists in my stomach. When her eyes meet mine, there’s a guarded look, a wall built from experience. I feel it, too, the push-pull of attraction and suspicion.

I’m not some creepy stalker—I just want to protect her. There’s a heaviness in her gaze, something that tells me she’s seen things, been hurt. I want to be the one to guard her from the shadows.

Treslyn

Another day, another deadline. My mind is swimming in the sea of text, edits, and unspoken expectations. But my heart is somewhere else—trapped between the past and the present. The scars from my ex, the ones that no amount of time seems to heal, still linger, quiet but constant. And yet, there’s a strange sense of calm that I’ve found every morning in this Starbucks. Maybe it’s the ritual of it all, or maybe it’s the fact that I’m no longer chained to a man who thought “forever” was just a word to toss around when it suited him.

Then, there's him—the man who watches me. I’ve seen him almost every day for the past month, sitting in the same spot, his aviators obscuring his eyes, but not his presence. He’s tall, muscular, with skin that looks like it’s been kissed by the sun. He doesn’t approach, doesn’t say much. But I know he’s there. Watching.

Today, something feels different. When Aphrodite tells me my drink is paid for, my curiosity piques. My defenses flare, but they don’t win out. Something about him today pulls me toward his table. I’m not sure what it is—whether it’s his silent attention or the way he holds himself—but I’m here, standing in front of him with a $20 bill in hand.

“If you’re trying to stay unnoticed, you should try harder,” I say, my voice playful but laced with suspicion. I’m no fool. I know when someone’s been watching me.

He takes off his glasses, and for the first time, I see his eyes clearly—deep brown, steady, vulnerable. There’s no malice there, just an open honesty that makes my heart skip a beat.

“Addonis,” he says, and the way he says it makes me wonder if he's trying to pull me into some world I’m not sure I’m ready for. He’s not like the others, and that’s both comforting and terrifying.

I tilt my head, looking at him with a raised brow. “What?”

“Addonis. My name. It’s Addonis Boudreaux,” he clarifies, his voice low and almost shy. It doesn’t match the imposing figure he cuts, but it’s genuine, disarming.

The warmth from his words sinks deep inside me, yet the walls I’ve built remain strong. “It fits you,” I say softly, then drop my gaze to the $20 bill in my hand. I scrawl my number on it, pushing it toward him. “Thanks for the drink,” I add with a smile, and then, without waiting for him to say anything more, I leave.

I walked away, there’s a flutter in my chest, a spark I can’t ignore. I don’t know if it’s him I want, or the idea of what could be, but for the first time in a long time, the possibility of something good feels just within reach.

Addonis

I watch her leave, the softness of her movements sending a shiver through me. She doesn’t give me her name, but that doesn’t matter—not now. What matters is the way she looked at me, the way she spoke, the way my heart is already racing from the briefest of interactions.

I glance down at the $20 she left behind, and my stomach does another flip. Her handwriting is delicate, the numbers scrawled there a silent invitation that I’m not sure I’m ready to accept. But I’ll be damned if I don’t try.

My sister’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up to see her standing next to me, a grin plastered across her face. “So, lover boy, you actually talked to her?” she teases.

I shake my head, a chuckle escaping me. “I said my name. That’s something, right?”

She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, and for a moment, I think I might have. But then I glance down at the $20 again, and the thought of Treslyn—and the walls she’s built around herself—stirs something in me. I want to tear those walls down. I want to be the one to protect her, to stand guard against whatever shadows from her past still linger.

The question is, can I earn her trust?