7. hayes
SEVEN
hayes
I don’t know why Andrew and Jace insisted on supervising the movers with me. It’s been two days since we met Fallon, and neither has broached the elephant in the room. We didn’t talk about it on the way back to Boston yesterday and ignored it at dinner last night—most likely because we were out with other friends—but now, I brace myself for the inevitable line of questioning.
It’s fair since I’ve taken up residence in a different state, though nothing will change. I’ll still commute back and forth every week. My father’s reaction to my initiative to watch over Fallon’s store closely was unexpected. It’s the first time he’s been impressed by anything I’ve done in a while. Granted, I didn’t receive more than strict instructions on what to report back, but it wasn’t another lecture on when I would finally step up for the company.
My mother is at a spa in South Florida, but the furniture set up at my new condo reeks of her taste. There’s nothing she does better than spending money on needless things. And in her unique way, it’s how she still tries to be involved in my life. It hasn’t been a secret that my father has mistresses. Despite this, my mother won’t leave him. She copes by surrounding herself with everything she could ever want, and my father will continue giving her exactly what she asks to keep her from asking him too many questions. It’s unhealthy, but it’s worked for them.
It hasn’t given me the best outlook on relationships.
Jace sits on the couch and props his feet up on the marble coffee table, his beer bottle hanging loosely from his left hand. ‘ My housewarming gift ,’ he’d said when he brought two sacks of liquor and beer. Neither Andrew nor I have joined him yet, but instead, I settled for glasses of the sparkling water Andrew had brought.
The luxury condo I’ve rented is nearly 2,000 square feet and overlooks the water. The empty lighthouse is easily visible from my balcony, which was the biggest draw to renting this place. And even though it’s fucking freezing outside, a few sailboats are littered across the water. I have an extra bedroom and bathroom, which I’m positive will be used frequently by Jace—given that his overnight bag is already sitting on the new bed.
“If Fallon ever comes over, she’s going to wonder why the fuck you asked for a job,” Jace calls out, ensuring I hear him from where I’ve gone to stand on the balcony.
That thought has crossed my mind, too. The building Fallon lives in doesn’t have residences this size. I’ve already examined her building’s floor plans and memorized her address. “She has no reason to be here,” I reply, keeping my voice at a normal volume. He can walk outside if he wants to have a conversation.
Andrew leans against the balcony wall opposite me. “I understand why you did it,” he begins, placing his glass on the ledge. “But I don’t know how you’ll be able to keep up the facade. You’re the only son of a Boston business tycoon.”
I finish my drink and silently watch the jagged waves wash over the rocks surrounding the lighthouse. The rough nature against the tranquil structure reminds me of Fallon. I want to test the waters with her. I want to know how long she can fight me before she can no longer resist the pressure.
“Fallon is too invested in Sanderling to know who I am,” I state. “Until she’s ready to expand into the Boston area, we don’t need to worry about her finding out who I am.”
“You might be underestimating her.” Andrew crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t find her naive.”
“She isn’t,” I confirm. “Not in the business sense.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Andrew shaking his head. “No, Hayes. Nothing can happen with her.”
I know the risk I’d take if I let my curiosity about her get the best of me. Mixing business with pleasure never works, especially when she can’t know who I am. But I need to know who she is if we want to properly control the competition and prevent her from expanding.
“Can’t really blame him,” Jace remarks after joining us on the balcony. The beer bottle he was working on has been replaced by a new one. “But she’s not your type, man.”
Unfortunately, he’s right. Women from my past have always tried to seem stubborn and hard to manage, but I knew it was an act. They wanted to argue with me only to be controlled in the bedroom. Fallon genuinely seems difficult . Taming her wouldn’t be as simple as tying her to the headboard and fucking her until she’s limp in my arms. She needs to be… nurtured. Understood. Heard. And, like me, she wants everything done her way.
We’re fire and ice. Conversations with her have been like trying to drown in shallow water. Not impossible, but not fucking simple either. Yet, I’m drawn to wanting more.
* * *
This is why I find myself outside Fallon’s Pilates studio after leaving Jace and Andrew at my condo. I will see her for my first day at Shoreline Scribes tomorrow, but I want to learn her habits and schedule—what makes her tick. Running into her last night wasn’t an accident. I saw her leaving her store after work, the frustration from our earlier encounter in how she moved her body. Tension seems to have a permanent residence in her muscles, but she was looser last night. Relaxed. Covered in sweat. Despite the cold, I couldn’t stop imagining how warm her skin must’ve felt.
I lean against my rental and slide my hands into my pockets. Fallon is inside, talking to her male instructor. She’s telling him something, and his responding smile is far too broad. Instead of shorts, she’s in high-waisted leggings that accentuate the mesmerizing flare of her hips. She has the hood of her gray cropped jacket pulled over her head, her messy ponytail sticking out of it to rest against her chest.
I’m so fixated on her that I don’t realize I’m no longer alone until Jace speaks. “See something you like?”
“Fuck,” I mutter, dragging my hand down my face. I don’t need to look at Andrew to know he’s judging me harshly. He’s known me too long to not realize what I’m doing. “The fuck are you two doing here? You aren’t the ones who moved.”
“You’re out of beer,” Jace replies, placing his hand on the hood of the car and continuing to watch Fallon with me.
I clench my jaw. If Jace realizes my interest in her extends past gathering intel for the company, he’ll see her as another competitive challenge. “I came here to pick up a burger for lunch.” I gesture toward the restaurant attached to the studio, opposite the liquor store on the other side. “I guess Fallon takes Pilates and cycles here.”
“Great. Let’s go inside and eat then,” Andrew suggests dryly.
My gaze flickers back to Fallon, still speaking to the man inside. They’re laughing together while she bounces back and forth on the balls of her feet. It’s the loosest I’ve seen her. Apparently, when she’s genuinely distracted by something, like a decent conversation, she’s lighter. Joyful, even.
What thoughts plague her in the silence?