8. Kyle The Fallout
Kyle: The Fallout
Sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Leslie’s face. Her hair fans across the pillow, her lips slightly parted as she sleeps soundly, her body curled toward mine.
She sleeps so peacefully.
My chest tightens. I haven’t felt this . . . whole in years. Not since Julia. Not since my marriage shattered and left me with nothing but anger and regrets.
I brush a stray strand of hair from Leslie’s face, my fingers lingering longer than they should.
She sighs, her body relaxing deeper into the mattress.
I press a kiss to her forehead, letting my lips linger for a second, memorizing her scent, the warmth of her skin.
My heart beats painfully as I pull away.
I slide out of bed, careful not to wake her.
Her dress is still on the floor, crumpled. A reminder of the intimacy we had last night. A line I can never uncross.
I pick it up, my fingers grazing through the soft fabric. Guilt twists in my gut, mixing with something dangerously close to happiness.
I fold the dress neatly and place it on the armchair, smoothing out the creases.
She looks so delicate lying vulnerable in my bed. I want to climb back in, to pull her close and never let her go. But I can’t. I shouldn’t.
This was a mistake. One that could cost me everything.
I grab a piece of paper and write a note, my hand shaking, so she doesn't feel bad when she wakes.
I set it on the small shelf by her phone and leave before I change my mind.
***
The meeting is a blur. Faces talk, numbers flash on the screen, and I nod in all the right places, but my mind is back in that room, tangled up with Leslie.
I see her smile, hear her laugh, feel her skin under my fingertips. I remember the way she looked at me, her eyes full of need.
I’ve spent years shutting people out, locking my heart behind walls so high no one could break through. But she slipped in, effortlessly. I didn’t even see it coming.
I grip my pen tighter, my jaw clenching. This is exactly why I should have kept my distance. Getting close means getting hurt and being vulnerable.
And now, it means breaking the rules.
Daniel’s voice echoes in my head, clear as day. “You know the policy, Kyle. No workplace romances. You signed the damn rule.”
I rub my temples, trying to push the memory away, but it won’t go.
I should have learned after watching Benson, one of my VPs, almost ruin my company with scandal because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. I thought I was too controlled to ever mix business with pleasure.
Yet, here I am. One night with Leslie, and I've shattered my own rule. I let my guard down.
Now, I don’t know how to pick up the pieces.
The image of Amanda’s face pops into my mind, smug and calculating. I remember how she stepped out from the corner, her eyes gleaming as she watched Leslie walk away from me after we kissed. How long had she been standing there? How much did she see?
A chill runs down my spine.
No. I can’t think about that. Not here. Not now.
I force myself to focus on the presentation. To be the CEO, the leader they need me to be. But the guilt weighs heavy, clawing at my insides.
I shouldn’t have touched Leslie. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I shouldn't have invited her to the ceremony. But the memory of her lips, of her body pressed against mine, keeps playing on a loop, haunting me.
I shove the thought away, locking it down with everything else I feel.
***
When I get home, the house is quiet. I drop my keys on the table and head to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water, hoping it’ll wash away the knot in my throat.
It doesn’t.
Footsteps echo down the hall, and then Chloe appears, her eyes bright, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” I manage, forcing a smile.
She narrows her eyes, studying me. “Are you okay? You look off.”
I take a long sip of water, avoiding her gaze. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?”
I shake my head. “Work stuff.”
Chloe rolls her eyes. “You always say that.” She walks over, her arms folding. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to take a break once in a while. Maybe even . . . I don’t know . . . date?”
I choke on the water, my chest tightening. “What?”
She grins, leaning against the counter. “I’m serious. You’ve been alone forever, Dad. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”
My heart stumbles, images of Leslie flashing through my mind. Her laugh, her smile, the way she felt in my arms. I shut them down, forcing my face to stay neutral. “I’m fine, Chloe.”
She sighs, her shoulders sagging. “You always say that too.” Her expression softens. “I just want you to be happy.”
My chest constricts. “I am happy. I have you and your brother.”
Chloe’s eyes darken, a flicker of sadness passing over her face. “No, you’re not.” Her voice drops, barely above a whisper. “You haven’t been. Not since Mom left.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I open my mouth to argue, to reassure her, but nothing comes out.
Before I can gather myself, Chloe’s eyes light up with a mischievous spark. “I mean, you were in a good mood this morning. Did something happen last night? Maybe . . . with Leslie?”
My heart stops. “What?”
Chloe shrugs, feigning innocence. “I mean, she came out of your room after you left the house in the morning.” She tilts her head, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
My heart stops. Panic surges through me. I grip the counter, keeping my face neutral. “Leslie was here to help me with some work stuff. We had a lot to catch up on after the event.”
Chloe’s eyebrows shoot up. “At home? In your room?”
I clear my throat, my mind scrambling for an explanation. “It was late. I didn’t want her driving back that late, so I offered her the guest room.” I force a shrug. “It was the polite thing to do.”
Chloe crosses her arms, her gaze sharp. “Guest room?” She arches an eyebrow. “Dad, she came out of your room.” She emphasizes each word, her voice laced with suspicion.
My heart skips a beat. “Maybe she got lost,” I say quickly, hearing how ridiculous it sounds the moment the words leave my mouth.
Chloe’s eyes widen, disbelief flashing across her face. “Lost? She looked pretty comfortable for someone who was lost . . . in your shirt.” Her lips curl into a smirk. “Since when do guests borrow your clothes?”
Heat rushes to my face. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I feel exposed, caught off guard. “She . . . uh . . . must’ve needed something to sleep in.” I rub the back of my neck, avoiding her gaze. “It’s not a big deal.”
Chloe’s eyes narrow even more, skepticism written all over her face. “Right. And that’s all it was?”
I meet her gaze, my chest tightening. “Yes. That’s all it was.”
She stares at me a moment longer, then sighs. “Okay, if you say so.” She folds her arms, her tone softening. “But you know . . . it wouldn’t be the worst thing if it was more than that. You deserve to be happy, Dad.”
Before I can respond, Ethan walks in, his hair even messier than Chloe’s. He nods at me, his eyes guarded. “Hey.”
I nod back. “Hey.”
He leans against the counter, his arms crossing. “You okay?”
I blink, surprised by the concern in his voice. “Why do you ask?”
Ethan shrugs, looking away. “You just seem . . . Lost.” His eyes flick to Chloe before returning to me. “You don’t look like yourself.”
I open my mouth, ready to brush it off, but the words don’t come.
Because they’re right. I am lost. And I don’t know how to find myself.
I don’t know how to fix any of this.
Ethan’s gaze sharpens. “Does this have anything to do with the lady that was here this morning?”
My stomach drops. “Why would you think that?”
He shrugs again, his expression neutral. “I don’t know. You seemed happier this morning. And Chloe said the woman, Leslie, has been to our house downtown.” He narrows his eyes. “Did something happen?”
I grip the counter, my knuckles turning white. “Leslie just works for me.”
Ethan stares at me, his jaw tightening. “Right.” He shakes his head, his mouth curving into a knowing smirk. “Dad, you know we’re not kids anymore, right?”
Heat rises up my neck, embarrassment mixing with guilt. “Ethan, it’s complicated.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Isn’t everything?” His voice softens, his eyes reflecting something I can’t quite read. “I just . . . we want you to be happy, Dad. You deserve that.”
My heart twists. I look at my son, his guarded expression, the way he avoids eye contact. He’s always been the quiet one, the one who keeps his feelings close to his chest. And yet, here he is, opening up to me.
I want to tell him the truth. I want to explain everything. But I can’t. I can’t drag them into my mess.
I force a smile. “I’m fine. Just tired. Long day.”
Ethan’s gaze lingers, his jaw tightening before he looks away. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
They walk off, their voices fading down the hall. I stand there, staring at the empty kitchen, my chest heavy.
I want to call Leslie. To hear her voice, to know she’s okay. To tell her I haven’t stopped thinking about her since last night.
But I can’t.
***
I walk into the office late on Monday morning, my head pounding from a restless night.
I barely slept, haunted by memories of Leslie—her laughter, the warmth of her body against mine, the way she looked at me.
I shake the thoughts away, forcing myself to focus. It’s impossible. Damn it.
I walk straight into the conference room, determined to get my head on straight. Daniel’s already there, standing by the projector, a file in his hand. He raises an eyebrow as I take my seat. “Rough weekend?”
“You could say that,” I mutter, pulling out my tablet, pretending to review the agenda.
Daniel leans in, his voice low. “What do I hear about you and Leslie at the event?”
My jaw tightens. “People need to mind their own business.”
He chuckles, but his eyes are sharp. “Maybe. But you’re not giving them any reason to.” He pauses, his gaze piercing. “You’re playing with fire, Kyle.”
I grit my teeth, avoiding his stare. I know the rules. Hell, I wrote them. No workplace relationships. No distractions. I’m the CEO—professionalism isn’t just expected; it’s demanded.
And yet . . .
My phone buzzes on the table, her name flashing across the screen. Leslie. My chest tightens. I glance around the room before I open the message.
Leslie: Morning. Hope your day’s less chaotic than mine.
I let out a small smile, my fingers moving before I can stop myself.
Me: Sounds like you need a vacation.
Her reply is almost instant.
Leslie: Only if you’re coming with me.
Heat rushes through me. I picture her saying that, her eyes dancing with mischief, her lips curving into that teasing smile.
I type back before I can overthink it.
Me: Dangerous offer, Ms. Hart. I might take you up on it.
Her dots dance on the screen before her reply comes through.
Leslie: Who says I’d mind?
I clench my jaw, my pulse quickening. I can’t do this. Not here. Not now. But I can’t stop myself either.
A throat clears beside me. I look up, finding Daniel watching me, his eyes narrowing. “Are you even paying attention?”
I slide my phone face down, sitting up straighter. “Of course.”
He leans closer. “Whatever’s going on, get a hold on it. People are talking, Kyle.
“I’ve got it under control,” I lie, my voice steady even as my heart races.
Daniel doesn’t look convinced. “You better. Because you’re not just risking your reputation. You’re risking hers too.”
Guilt coils in my gut. He’s right. Leslie’s career, her credibility—everything she’s worked for—could be shattered because I couldn’t keep my distance.
The meeting drags on, my thoughts a tangled mess. I can’t look at Leslie without remembering how she felt in my arms.
After the briefing, I go straight to my office, closing the door behind me. I sink into my chair, my head in my hands. I need to end this before it gets out of control. Before it costs us everything.
A knock breaks through my thoughts. I look up, my heart stuttering as Leslie walks in, her eyes bright, her posture confident.
“I found it,” she says, a victorious smile playing on her lips. “The perfect solution to clear Theo’s name.”
I stare at her, my heart thundering. She looks irresistible. And I’m slipping further away from control.