Alex
It was a mistake kissing her. Holding hands is easily explainable as fake dating to Lucas. But kissing…
It’s Tuesday now. I had to call him the day we got back to the cottage. He didn’t take it well.
“. The entire reason I wanted my sister to stay with you was because I trusted you wouldn’t have sex with her.”
I told him we hadn’t had sex.
We wouldn’t.
I wouldn’t. I had Hailee call him to try to explain that the entire dating thing was her idea.
The entire thing but the kiss. That was mine. But holding hands is for the grade-school couples and the elderly. I don’t hold hands.
Such a tender little gesture might as well put a bullseye on the back of Hailee’s back for my enemies to go after.
That woman surprised me again. I’ve gotten somewhat bored with sailing over the years. There are only so many times I can take the boat out and lean into the waves before a sense of repetitiveness takes away the joy.
But seeing Hailee’s face on Thursday was worth it. I knew she was more fun than the average girl I’ve kept around over the years. When I brought Paige onto the boat, she was fucking mortified when we hit a wave and a splash of water ruined her hair.
Hailee, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the rougher and wetter it got. If only we could’ve spent the rest of the weekend on the coast. Ignoring reality only works for so long, and my absence from the office was a pipe dream.
We’re back at the mansion on Park. We had to fly back Friday, and I haven’t seen much of her since. I should’ve put her in the orange suite—the room across from mine on the third floor—and said the second floor was under renovation or had an asbestos scare.
Anything.
I hate that the only chance I have to see her is for meals. I’m not about to ask her to watch a movie. Nor am I going to wander the house looking for her.
It’s night now, and I wonder how late she stays up. She strikes me as someone who is in bed with her eye mask on at nine thirty.
It’s two a.m. I sit up in bed. Restless. I know it’s just my insomnia. My complete lack of sleep. I’m hearing things. Picturing them. I thought I heard footsteps in the hall, and now I stare at my door with a pounding heart.
I want Hailee to open it. To walk toward my bed and my arms. I don’t just want to have sex with her. I also have a gut-wrenching urge to protect her. If she was frightened, dreaming of gunshots or assassins, I’d hold her under these covers and stroke her hair until she fell back asleep.
I’m finished beating myself up for these kinds of thoughts. Or thinking of it as a vulnerability. It’s not love. I was given a job—protect Hailee. And she’s a beautiful girl, so I was bound to be attracted to her.
But there will always be a barrier between us. One she can’t see, because if she knew the truth about me, she would run as fast as she could. And that is what keeps me from going to her room and putting my lips on hers, even though I know she’d moan and widen her legs.
But then I picture her body’s reaction if she knew all there was to know. She’d cross her arms. Fold herself in. Scrunch her face before the curses and accusations flew. Monster.
To let her love me would be a lie. All these thoughts I’ve been having. All these hopes are for nothing.
The only thing I could do was the same thing I did with every woman—sleep with her and get her a French omelet and an Uber Black in the morning.
Nothing is ever going to change when it comes to my relationships. It doesn’t matter if little Hailee Barnes makes my heart leap a little.
I’ve decided to put an end to this. I have a business trip to Switzerland scheduled for the day after tomorrow, and I don’t plan to come back to New York until Hailee is gone. I’m heading to the French Riviera afterwards. She can have the mansion to herself.
I told her my plans briefly when we saw each other in passing. She shrugged like it was no big deal. She said have fun .
If she was truly bothered, she didn’t show it. Maybe the fire between us isn’t as hot as I thought it was.
I give up on sleep and head into my study. I always leave a light on because of the high chance I wander back here from bed. I sit at the heavy oak desk and open my laptop.
I check my email for a minute before I slam my MacBook closed and bite my thumbnail.
Enough of this. I stand and walk down to the second floor. I walk all the way to Hailee’s bedroom and pause at the door. I set my hand on the knob.
I can open it and feel every inch of her body hot from being under the covers. I can suck on her moist clit. Kiss her and fuck her until the sun comes up and then let her fall asleep with her head resting on my collarbone. And this is one of my last chances.
All these things flash before my eyes like fire, but my grip on the doorknob loosens.
Her life would be better if I never turn this knob. If I never pull the covers off her.
I want to be proud of my self-control. To reconcile that it was this exact kind of strength that I used to build my empire, but instead, as I stick my hands in my pockets and head back to the third floor, all I feel is a darkness.