Chapter 1 #2
I wasn’t more than fifteen feet away from him. His attention was just trained elsewhere, so it made it hard for him to see me at all.
I pointed a finger over to where a few girls danced to the music. “I was right over there.”
Lennon’s brow furrowed, and he let out an easy laugh. “No you weren’t. I’m pretty sure I would’ve seen you sooner if that was the case.”
I swallowed hard. “I was, Lennon.” I licked my lips, and didn’t want to say it, but I also couldn’t not bring it up. “You’ve just been too busy keeping Celeste’s attention to care about anything else.”
The light in his features dimmed a fraction. “We were having a conversation.”
I brought my cup up and sipped a little water. Whether I was drinking or talking to Lennon, the nausea was still going to come. It was unavoidable.
My voice was low enough for only him to hear. “I didn’t realize a simple conversation required her hands to be all over you.”
Lennon smirked and glanced away—a telltale sign that he was uncomfortable. “You know how she is,” Lennon said, dipping his head down to my ear. “Handsy.”
“Yeah,” I muttered out. “That’s part of the problem—us both knowing how she is and nothing being done about it.
Lennon, you promised,” my voice cracked, “that you weren’t going to do this to me anymore.
” Yet here we were, having an awkward conversation over the same person that started all of this while we were in a room with people we worked with every damn day.
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yes, it does,” I protested, though my voice was still quiet.
“Olivia…”
I shook my head because why was it so hard for him to realize it wasn’t okay? Why was it so hard for him to put my feelings first?
“Olivia, please. Can we talk about this later? You know, when we’re not surrounded by most of the people I employ.”
I frowned, a tightness taking over my jaw, which was the last thing I needed when my head already felt like something was pressing into my temples. “Yeah, fine.”
He reached out, gently tracing my elbow with his fingers. It didn’t stir that sensation of desire that normally came when he touched me. Well, before all this shit with Celeste and his inability to understand my feelings started. “Are you still coming over to my place after?”
“That was the plan, wasn’t it?”
“Just making sure the plans didn’t change.”
I pressed my lips together. “They didn’t, but I have a headache, so I need to go take something for it.”
“Ah, shit. Another one?”
“Yeah,” was all I could mutter in response. It wasn’t the first one I complained about in the last few weeks. “I might head out after, so I’ll just see you at yours, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, lifting his hand to my face and pulling me in to press a soft kiss to my lips.
“Don’t forget that I’m getting a ride with Ben.
Head over and let yourself in but be careful with the rain out there.
We’re going to wrap things up here soon, anyway. You won’t be missing out on anything.”
I nodded and smiled as genuinely as I could before waving goodbye and shooting Celeste an inconspicuous glare.
I absolutely had to end my relationship with him.
Lennon and I were going nowhere fast. As much as he was okay with letting other women get away with their flirtatious advances, I was done.
I couldn’t withstand the hole that lingered in my heart from it.
I had to get away and allow myself the time to heal.
I turned away from him in the next breath, needing to take an Advil or Tylenol.
I drank more water and weaved through the crowd with the idea to head to the office’s break room.
I knew there was a universal medicine cabinet in there that Lennon and his brother, Weston, kept stocked with the essentials for staff.
I set my drink down on a nearby table and swerved around a couple of people, searching for the co-owner of Taylors Security for a beat. Earlier, I spotted Weston talking to a few guys that Lennon did installations with, but then he disappeared.
Feet away from the door that led out into the hallway, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. “Olivia, where are you going?” I glanced over my shoulder to find Ava with a concerned expression on her face. “Is everything okay?”
I gave her a tight smile. “All good. Need a breather.” I raised my hand and gave the man who stood beside her a wave. “Hey, Ben. Enjoying the party?”
“Yeah, it’s alright.” His eyes slid back over to Ava, and they lit up. It was clear that she was the only thing he was interested in. I couldn’t blame him. She had this pale porcelain skin and frizzy hair that added to her button nose and heart-shaped lips that were coated a mauve pink.
Ava’s brow wrinkled, her gaze never straying from mine. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving.”
I shook my head and lied to her. Ava and I had become really good friends in our time working for Taylors Security.
Two years younger than me and fresh out of college, she was filled with brilliant ideas and a healthy dose of people-pleasing guilt, which was how I knew she’d bail on Ben if I told her the truth.
And I wasn’t about to do that to her.
“No, I just need a minute to regroup and use the restroom.”
I didn’t know why I didn’t tell her that I was going in search of something to dull my headache. Probably because the only thing I could see were those red nails.
My saving grace was that we drove back in for Lennon’s birthday party separately—sometimes we carpooled to save gas since we lived relatively close to one another. I could dip out and apologize profusely come Monday morning.
“You promise?” Ava asked. “Also, has he spent any time with you? I saw you standing over there by yourself.”
“Who, Lennon?” It was a dumb question. There wasn’t anyone else she would be referring to. She tilted her head in a way that told me to cut the crap. I cracked a sad smile and shook my head again. “No, but to be honest, I am absolutely fine with that at the moment.”
He’d get his fill of attention, and then later on tonight, he’d try to apologize, claiming that it was because he was being pulled in so many directions. He’d also say that he’d make it up to me. And that I shouldn’t worry over Celeste.
“You’re sure?” Ava questioned.
“A million percent, yes.”
She sighed. “Okay. Well, come and find me whenever you’re done. You can hang out with Ben and me.”
I gave her a small smile, but when my focus shifted behind her and I saw Ben’s frown, I knew there was no way in hell I’d be crashing their party.
I pushed out into the hallway a moment later, giving the door a solid hip check in the process. My heels clacked against the golden oak floors that reflected the soft lighting overhead. Only half of them were on since it was after-hours.
My hand skimmed the smooth, high-gloss painted wall as I trekked toward the break room. It was all the way on the other side of the building with Lennon and Weston’s private offices.
I walked until I came across another conference room, most of the wall constructed of see-through partitions.
There was a long odd-shaped table in the center flanked by a set number of chairs.
Every so often, the company's logo was stamped on the wall; a badge filled with the rolling lines of water—because, apparently, both Taylors brothers lived for it.
Owning stellar homes on Lake Edwards with private docks was enough reason to believe that to be true.
But around those lake-like lines of sea blue were random numbers typically seen in cyber and security code, both of which the company handled. They even patented their own program that worked hand-in-hand with their security equipment.
Thunder rumbled overhead, and my attention snapped to the windows along the wall, the blinds positioned halfway down and giving me a view of outside. It was dark, but I was still able to see part of the parking lot thanks to the abundance of exterior lighting.
Rain poured from the sky, splashing against the few cars I could see.
Droplets slid down the window panes, and then, without much of a warning, lightning sparked and illuminated the sky.
Dread filled me. I was going to have to drive home in that.
No matter what, the lines on the road would be difficult to see, even more so if the opposing traffic was bad and other headlights were involved.
It didn’t help that my eyes were sensitive.
Basically, it was going to be one hell of a blast driving the twenty minutes to Lennon’s place.
I rubbed my forehead, applying pressure with my fingers for short-lived relief as I approached the room I was looking for. Just like during the day as of late, the heavy, security-locked door was propped open by a tiny piece of wood. I knew it was because of the faulty handle.
The thing needed to be replaced, and on more than one occasion in the last fourteen days, it jammed as people came and went, which was why we had direct orders not to close the door at all until it was fixed.
In fact, last week, a few employees were trapped inside for an hour because of it. It was supposed to be handled by now, but the company where the parts were ordered from sent the wrong screws. That meant staff would be forced to live with it for a little while longer until the new ones arrived.
A roll of thunder reverberated outside and shot a chill down my spine. In the next second, more lightning flickered, sending a strip of light down the hallway. I sped up, quickly making it to the door and sighing a breath of relief.
The break room, one I spent the last year of my life eating lunch in, was dressed in artificial light from the overheads.
As soon as I walked in, I caught sight of the few small tables that were near the wall.
On the adjacent one was a line of cabinets, a microwave with its green-lit numbers telling me the time, and a fridge.
And then my attention settled on a body standing at the counter, his back facing the door until he heard the click of my heels.
Weston Taylors.
Lennon’s brother, my boss, and the only man who got under my skin in a way I couldn’t truly describe.
His gaze hardened into complete annoyance the second he saw me, but then his line of vision shifted behind me, his eyes getting a little wide as he quickly said, “Don’t let the door close!”
I moved in slow motion, twisting around in time for the door to click shut.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered around an irritated sigh.
“Shit, I-I’m—”
“What, sorry?” Weston shook his head. “That piece of wood was keeping the door open just fine. You walk by and suddenly the fucking thing vanishes?”
I was shell-shocked he was speaking to me when, half the time, he couldn’t be bothered to mutter more than a handful of sentences.
In the beginning—when I first started at Taylors Security—he would occasionally send me that smile of his when he’d walk by my desk, hand dipped into the pocket of those finely pressed slacks that did wonders for his ass and legs.
I’d get that big grin, those perfect teeth, and that one dimple.
And if it was a really special day, he’d stop at my desk for a minute to talk.
I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t stupid enough to miss how all that stopped right around the same time his brother asked me out. Despite it all, my brain still found him attractive—because it was a traitorous little thing.
I wanted to scoff because wasn’t that how it always went—women finding the broody, rude type attractive as hell. But then my mind bounced back to how he sneered and scowled at me with those gray-blue eyes of his whenever he had the chance.
Just like he was doing right then.
So, yeah, I was surprised he was talking to me at all.
But also, where did that door stopper go? How was it holding the door open one minute and was gone the next?
And then I remembered how in a rush I was to get inside the break room because of the thunder and lightning. Because as a kid, I was always scared of the way Mother Nature unleashed its wrath, and as an adult, it still made me nervous.
That familiar roll cracked outside, starting small then morphing into the sound of a whip to leather all too quickly. My head throbbed in response, reminding me that I needed to find the medicine cabinet. I prayed the next twenty minutes would pass quickly so I could get some relief.
Weston remained rooted to where he stood as the ground rumbled beneath our feet. It literally felt like it shook, and then, in the next second the overhead light flickered off. It wasn’t because one of our fingers flitted across the switch.
It was the weather, the impending storm outside cutting out the power as easy as a blow of a breath to a flame. It was there one second and then…gone.
I glanced over at the microwave to confirm it. The green numbers on the digital display were nowhere to be found.
Queasiness formed in my stomach. I couldn’t tell if it was from my headache or due to the man standing across from me.
Only time would tell.