by Kennedy Fox
You think she’d understand she can’t boss me around like a child. I’m not her bitch, and she’s living in my apartment, so maybe I should start giving her a to-do list. Hell, the lease has my name on it, not hers.
Except she makes Brandon happy. That’s the only reason I put up with her shit.
Then as if she read my mind, she sends another text.
Before I head out, I double check I have everything I need—phone, keys, wallet. I slip on a jacket since it’s a tad chilly, even for California in February, because I’ll be visiting the jobsite today to check the progress and get a status update from the contractors. I yell to let Brandon know I’m leaving, but he’s already in the shower. He’s a lucky asshole who doesn’t have to be at work until nine. As an accountant, he has the coveted banker’s hours. Meanwhile, I have to be out of the house by eight as a project manager at a construction company. Typically, I do a lot of the bitch work since I graduated only two years ago, but I was recently assigned my very own project to oversee.
Being in charge and making sure we stay within budget, on schedule, and have limited fuckups only add to my list of growing responsibilities. On top of managing a major project, I have business meetings with owners, subcontractors, and team members, plus a mountain of paperwork on top of that. I travel between the office and jobsite daily, and even though it’s busy and stressful, I love the complexity of it. Engineering and technology were always my strong suits, and working in the construction field during the summer while I was in high school helped pave the way to where I am now.
Once I’m in my truck, I stick my Bluetooth in my ear and get the day started. Liam and Mason like to give me shit for how much work crap I keep in here, but it’s my mobile office.
By the time I’m on the highway, I’m already on a conference call as I drive out to the build site. Four large units with eighteen apartments inside along with unattached garages are being built. On top of that, a community recreational center with a tennis and basketball court will be added. We’re only four months into the project and have six more months until it’s complete. Of course the owner wants it done as soon as possible to fill it with renters, so he’s already on my ass about getting ahead of schedule.
“Hunter Manning,” I say, answering another call.
“Where the hell are you?” my boss, Phil, hisses, and I can tell he’s already in a mood. “I’m ready to look at these plans, but I need you here.”
“Okay, I’m three minutes out. I’ll be right there.”
After hanging up, I press my foot down on the gas pedal and book it. Once I pull into the gravel driveway, I park. Grabbing my work boots from the back, I quickly put them on along with my hard hat and safety glasses. Since I have to be on the jobsite one minute and then in a meeting the next, I always dress professionally for work but also have a change of clothes and shoes in the car.
“Morning, Phil,” I say as soon as I see him.
“Hunter,” he replies flatly. I flash him a confident smile, which he ignores.
After an hour of going over the plans, walking the jobsite, and proving to him I’m in control of the project, I’m on my way to the office to catch up on emails. I have a meeting at eleven, then another one at two, and after that, I’ll work on my computer until I leave for the day.
By the time evening rolls around, I’m emotionally and mentally exhausted and more than ready to go home and relax. Once I finally reach my apartment, I park in my assigned spot and groan when I see Lennon’s car next to it. Technically, it’s Brandon’s, but the moment she moved in, he gave it to her and now parks on the road. Pussy.
My phone rings just as I gather my things from the back seat, and when I see it’s my older brother, Hayden, I immediately answer.
“Hey, man,” I greet cheerfully. He’s as busy as I am these days, which means we don’t get to chat much. It also doesn’t help that he lives in New York now, and our time zones are different. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Not much,” he replies. “Just thought I’d check in on my little brother and see if he’s staying out of trouble.”
Laughing, I take what I need from my truck and shut the door. I glance at Lennon’s car and frown, annoyed she’s home already.
“Always,” I tell Hayden. “Just getting home actually. What’re your plans tonight? You and Sav doing okay?”
He’s been dating Savannah since last summer and moved to be with her. It was shortly after Lennon moved in, and my life took a turn for the worse.
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” The nervousness in his tone makes my heart race.
“What? You two break up?” I panic, knowing what it took for them to get back together after being apart for ten years. I’d be devastated for him if that were the case.
“No! Hell no. I’m not letting her out of my sight again,” he says, laughing.
“Whew. Scared me there for a sec, man.”
“Actually, I’m planning to propose to her. I’ve always known she’s the one for me and want to make her my wife.”
I’m smiling so big at his news. “Hell yes. I’m so fucking happy for you, Hayden. And honestly, about fucking time.” I let out a laugh as he sighs in relief.
“I haven’t told our parents yet, but I’ve designed and ordered the ring. I wanted it to be one of a kind—just like her—so now I just have to find the right time to pop the question. It’s not all planned out yet, but I’m nervous as hell.” I almost make a remark about how lovey-dovey he is, but I’d rather see this version of him than the hollow person he was without her.
“Don’t be. You know what her answer will be. And honestly, who cares what our parents or anyone else say? You know this is right. So do I. And I’m not a bit shocked.” I take the steps two at a time as I listen to Hayden’s plans. After I enter the apartment and drop my shit by the door, I hear Lennon singing in the kitchen and walk that way.
She has her headphones in, and she’s bobbing her head back and forth, and shaking her hips. Either she hasn’t heard me come in yet or she’s ignoring me, so I walk past her, open the fridge, and grab myself a beer. Then I see a sandwich on the counter.
“You made me a PB&J sandwich?” I taunt Lennon, then grab it off the counter before she can stop me. “My favorite!” I take a huge bite and shoot her a grin.
“Hunter!” she screams, slamming her hand down. “That was the last of the bread!”
“Good thing you’re going to the grocery store,” I say around a mouthful, walking into the hallway.
“Fucking seriously?” She’s seething, which has me smiling ear to ear before I take another bite. “I wasn’t going to the store just yet!”
“Guess you have an excuse to now,” I retort, not looking over my shoulder. I’m sure she’s glaring at me or giving me the finger. That’s her usual go-to move.
“Who are you talking to?” Hayden asks.
“Satan.”
He immediately chuckles, knowing exactly who I’m referring to.
“You two still fight like brother and sister?”
“Pfft. Worse.” I step into my bedroom and shut the door behind me, finishing off her perfectly made sandwich.
“When are you gonna get over your feelings for her? Don’t you think you’ve made both of your lives hell for long enough? Learn from my mistakes, bro…”
Hayden is only five years older than me, but I swear he was born with an old soul. We are the only two kids in the family. Our parents didn’t bother trying for a girl after me, and it didn’t help that their relationship wasn’t exactly perfect either. My dad is a piece of shit, though, to the public eye, he acts like Father of the Year. As a California state senator, he has a picture-perfect image to uphold. I was the wild child that had him running to the doctor’s office, begging to get snipped. Though as I got older, I knew he really just wanted to make sure he couldn’t knock up any of his mistresses. Hayden was more of a father figure to me than our dad ever was, and he tried to keep me grou
nded when I wanted to act out for attention.
Needless to say, I never claimed to be an easy person to live with, and Hayden knows all too well how I get. It doesn’t help that Lennon brings out this bitter side of me, and I want to make her life hell for forcing me to see her every goddamn day. I couldn’t give her what Brandon can anyway. For most of my life, I never met my father’s expectations with my grades, sports, and choices, and after living here and listening to her constant bitching, I know I would’ve never met hers.
It’s more than obvious that I would’ve never measured up to Brandon and his unconditional love for her since the very beginning. I pussyfooted around and didn’t make a move while he didn’t think twice about it. My hesitation came back to bite me in the ass, and now I have to live with that choice every day.
Brandon also eventually wants a family, and I have my own commitment issues to work through, which have only gotten worse since Lennon moved in. Though it fucking sucks she didn’t choose me, it’s probably for the best, or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. It could’ve ended badly with me hurting her, though I’d like to think I wouldn’t have. She’s a constant reminder that I’m not good enough, and how I’ll never be.
“There are no feelings.” Lies.
“Yeah, and Donny’s my secret life partner,” he replies, cackling. “You aren’t fooling anyone, especially not me.”
Savannah’s gay best friend, Donny, insists on calling me Beefcake. At first, it was insulting, but now I know it’s a compliment coming from him.
“HUNTER!” Lennon slams her fist on the door. “Do you have to be an insensitive asshole?”
“Oh fuck.” Hayden laughs hysterically. “You really pissed her off this time.”
I roll my eyes as I take a swig of my beer. “Seriously, what else is new?”
“Gonna let you deal with that. Call me later.”
“Will do.”
We say goodbye and hang up. I open my door with a shit-eating grin and wait for her to speak. Her face is beet red with eyes narrowing in on me.
“Would it kill you, just once, to be a decent human being? I was starving and wanted that damn sandwich!” She’s seething, and fuck if that doesn’t make me hard.
Tense as ever, I take a pull of my beer and watch her over the bottle. “Oh, was that sandwich for you?” I furrow my brows as if I’m genuinely confused. “Thought you were making that for me.” I shrug, knowing how angry she already is, but hell, I don’t care.
“Argh! You’re the literal worst, Hunter Manning!” She turns, her hips shimmying as she walks away.
“Well, feel free to leave anytime. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!” I shout my usual retort whenever she’s freaking out about something. A nice little reminder that she can leave any goddamn time and no one’s stopping her.
“You need to grow the hell up!” she shouts after I shut my bedroom door. The walls are thin, so I hear every word that leaves her lips. She’s muttering curse words, calling me every name under the sun, and I smile in victory. Getting her worked up is another step toward getting her out of my damn head, though sometimes it almost feels like really hot foreplay.
Better to be under her skin than fantasizing about her being on top of me.
Chapter Three
Lennon
Monday and Tuesday flew by, but today drags. Seconds feel like minutes, and minutes seem like hours, and all I want to do is go home and be with Brandon. At lunch, I look over my salad, not feeling very hungry as I think about everything left to complete for the spring concert in a couple of months.
Over the past few days, I taught my students two new songs on their recorders, and they were enthusiastic and seemed to enjoy learning. I want this concert to go off without a hitch because it’s my first big program since I graduated and became a teacher. So much rides on its success, and it could determine if my contract is renewed or not, which is a big deal. I try not to think too far ahead in the future and live in the moment, but it’s hard when there’s so much to do in so little time. Being stressed at home because of Hunter and the dumb shit he constantly puts me through doesn’t help either.
As I take a bite of my salad, I think about how every grade from kindergarten through fourth will be performing together on the stage. I have to choose the songs for them to sing as well as music for them to play on the instruments, and I need to have it finalized by the end of the week. After Principal Maples approved my budget increase, I ordered the percussion equipment for the older kids, and thankfully, it’ll be delivered by the end of next week so we can start practicing. Once I’m finished eating, the bell rings, which means recess is over and my classroom will soon be full of little bodies. As I walk down the hall, I unlock my phone and see a text from Brandon.
Brandon: I love you, sweetheart. Hope you’re having an amazing day!
I instantly smile and send a message back.
Lennon: Love you too, baby. I wish you were here with me so I could sneak kisses.
Brandon: Mmm. You’re making me miss you even more right now.
Lennon: You have no idea how much I wish we were home and in bed. Or that you were here, so we could christen the instrument closet. :)
Brandon: So my naughty teacher fantasy might actually come true?
Lennon: Ha-ha! Class is starting. Only a few more hours left until the day is over! Love you!
Shortly after I enter my classroom, a group of kindergartners comes inside for their lesson. I smile at Mrs. Jenson who escorted them over before she waves and shuts the door.
Their attention spans are so short that I have to work hard to keep them occupied for the class period. Though it can be exhausting, I still love it. They keep me on my toes.
“Good afternoon, class!” I greet with a wide smile.
“Hello, Ms. Corrigan,” they say in their cute little voices.
“So the spring concert is in a couple of months. Do you know what that means?” I ask, meeting their gazes.
Some of them shake their heads and others nod, while the rest are too busy picking their noses to care that I’m even speaking.
“It means we’re going to perform for a bunch of people including your parents. This year, Disney is the theme!”
Several of them are so excited they stand and start dancing around like I fed them pure sugar. Disney, to kids, is an instant trigger word, which is exactly why I chose it.
“Jewel and Lacy, please sit down, okay? So today we’re going to learn a new song that many of you probably already know. It’s called ‘Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah,’ and you’ll be singing it with the first and second graders. Have any of you heard of it before?”
David stands up and starts belting out the chorus before I can stop him, but he has a family addicted to all things Disney, which I learned when I met his mother at parent-teacher night. I made the mistake of commenting on her adorable Mickey Mouse shirt and listened to her go on for ten minutes about the five trips they take each year.
“Very good,” I tell him, and he proudly sits down.
I have the class stand and do stretches, then we go through the scales to warm up their voices. Once they’re ready, I teach the main chorus of the song. We sing it slow at first, over and over, and then I add in a few hand movements. Repetition is key with children this young, but I’m beaming with pride when I see most of them have the basic concept down. They’re quick learners, and I’m overjoyed that we’re already making headway.
After we’ve gone over it at regular speed, the bell rings, and all the little bodies swarm to the door and follow their teacher out of the room. I have just a minute to breathe before the first graders rush in to fill the chairs. Once everyone settles, I make the announcement about the spring program, and they’re ridiculously excited by the news too. It’s official: Disney is a win with the kids.
After I pass out the sheet music, we practice the song all the way through. They catch on much quicker than the kindergarteners, and not long after, I add in the
hand movements for them to mimic. Before the class ends, we start at the very beginning again, and I’m pleased when they get most of the lyrics and choreography. This concert is going to be so cute, and ideas for other songs start flooding in.
“Great job! You all make me super proud. We’ll have more songs to learn, so take your music folder with you and practice at home. I can’t wait to see how great you are next time!” I try to encourage them every chance I get.
The second half of the day passes quickly, and by the time the final bell rings, I’m more than ready to get home to Brandon. Being with him melts away all my worry and stress.
As I walk to my car, I pull my phone from my pocket, and a smile instantly fills my face when I see an unread text message from my little sister, Madelyn. She’s four years younger than I am but moved from Utah to California to be near our older sister Sophie and me. The three of us have always been close, so being within driving distance of each other is something we’ve always wanted.
For Maddie, staying with our parents during high school was difficult because she felt so alone without us. It was an adjustment when Sophie left. A year later, I followed, and Maddie was basically an only child without us there. She’s been here for a year now, though it feels like only yesterday since we haven’t been able to spend a lot of time together due to our conflicting schedules. She’s such a talented dancer and received a full-ride scholarship to CSU in Sacramento.
Sophie left after high school to attend CSU Fresno, which is why I applied there too. After graduation, she moved to Sacramento, and then I followed the next year. I wanted to be close to her and to give Brandon’s and my relationship a real chance since he lived there too. During my last semester, I applied for teaching jobs and was fortunate enough to find one right in the area.
