Restrained

by Nicole Dykes

“But you still slept with her?”

  His jaw ticks. “I had a bad day, and I let myself get out of control.”

  “What’s that like?” The question falls for my lips before I realize I'm saying the words out loud.

  He studies me with intensity that makes my heart feel like it’s going to explode, but I know he isn’t one to lose control often. “Dangerous.” I swallow, the gulping sound humiliating, and I'm glad there’s space between us on the bed. “It was a mistake.”

  “Did you at least talk with her about it?”

  He looks at me like I'm insane. “I told her it can’t happen again.”

  “That’s all?”

  His right eyebrow lifts, again thinking I'm crazy. “Yes. What else is there to say?”

  I’m the last person who should be giving relationship advice. I have zero experience, but even I know he should have offered her more of an explanation. “Maybe a why? I mean, I'm pretty sure she’s every man’s type.”

  “I don’t have a type.”

  Now I’m shooting the questioning gaze. “No?”

  He laughs. “Maybe to fuck. But not relationship-wise.”

  My mouth actually waters. Jesus, I'm an idiot. What the hell is wrong with me? “Oh.”

  He stares at me for a moment and then shrugs. “I don’t really do relationships. And I definitely don’t mix business and pleasure as a personal rule.”

  “A good rule.” Why is my voice so quiet?

  “It is. Because now Gretchen acts like she owns me, and there’s not much I can do about it.”

  He looks genuinely upset by the whole situation, and when he lets his guard down like this, he seems so familiar to me. “So why did you do it?”

  He tilts his head to the side. “She was there.”

  “That’s nice. What every girl wants to hear.”

  He moves closer to me on the bed, and I realize I'm holding my breath as he raises his hand and pushes my bangs out of my eyes. The motion is brief and so light, but I swear I still feel his hand there. “Haven’t you ever let yourself lose control? Even for a moment?”

  “Sounds to me like you don’t do it often.”

  “I don’t. But I have.”

  I swallow again, staring into his eyes. “I haven’t.”

  We stay in the moment for far too long. Both staring. Both unmoving. Lost in thought.

  “What do you do for fun?”

  I smile. “We really are trying the friends thing?”

  He chuckles, and again, it’s slight but beautiful. “Why not? It’s been a long time since I've had an actual friend. As long as we put work first.”

  “Always.”

  “So what do you do for fun?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. What do you do?”

  He’s thinking about it. “I don’t know either.” He scrubs his chin with his hand. “Fuck . . . That’s sad.”

  I can’t fight my laugh. “It really is.”

  “Do you swim?”

  Suddenly the laughter dies, and I give my own vague answer. “No.”

  “No? You live in California.”

  I sit up straighter on the bed, leaning away from him, my stomach in knots just thinking about the water. “Maybe we should get back to work.”

  He thinks I'm a crazy person. I can see it on his face, but I'm struggling to catch my breath from a simple question. So, maybe I am. “Look, if you can’t swim, that’s no big deal . . .”

  “I can. I just don’t.”

  He stares at me, waiting for more of an explanation.

  One I don’t want to give.

  That was a strange turn. For once, I was enjoying having a conversation, but she has an issue with swimming. One she doesn’t want to talk about, which only piques my curiosity.

  I need to leave it alone. She doesn’t want to talk about it. Great.

  I told her way too much at the second hotel yesterday. Maybe today I should just shut the fuck up and go back to work.

  Only I can’t. My obsession to know is festering as we sit here, and she goes over plans on her iPad. She must feel my eyes on hers because she lifts her head and takes a deep breath, the delicate silver necklace resting on her chest rising and falling with the movement. “My brother drowned, and ever since then, I hate to go swimming. I hate water.”

  Well, fuck me. I knew her brother died, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t dig that deep. “I’m sorry.”

  Her shoulders lift, but the gesture isn’t as nonchalant as she wants it to seem. It’s forced. “I’ll eventually get back in the water, I’m sure.”

  I nod my head, trying to be encouraging, but I saw the fear in her eyes when I brought up swimming.

  Her shoulders droop, and she sighs. “Or not.”

  “I can’t imagine what you went through. He was only eighteen?”

  She’s not surprised I know that. She knows I looked into her background. “Yes. He never made it to college.”

  “I’m guessing you were close.” I need to shut up. I’m not supposed to be interested in Lola. It’s Penelope I need to learn more about.

  Her gaze is thoughtful, and I see guilt in her eyes as she lowers her head, her chin nearly touching her chest. “I thought we were. I thought our whole family was, but as I look back, maybe we weren’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Her eyes lift slowly, meeting mine. “He was going through something. Something I should have seen coming, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

  I don’t want to care, but I have to ask. I should pick up my phone and go back to work, but I can’t. “Was it intentional?”

  “No. He just, he was feeling too much pressure. He cheated on his girlfriend.” She tucks her unruly bangs behind her ear again. “Penelope.”

  What? Penelope? As in her partner? I try to keep calm, hearing this information. “I thought she was with your brother, Lincoln?”

  Lincoln is very much alive and works in real estate. She nods her head and then puffs out air from between her very full lips. “She is now. Kind of then too.”

  Now I'm lost. “What?”

  She lightheartedly laughs at that even if her eyes are full of tears. “C-Co . . .” She clears her throat and shakes her head, struggling to say her brother’s name. Colt. “My brother dated Penelope first. It was young love and looking back, they weren’t a fit.”

  “Lincoln and she are?”

  She nods, wiping away a rogue tear with the back of her hand. “They are.”

  “Colt cheated on Penelope?” She flinches when I say her brother’s name out loud, and I feel like an asshole.

  “He did. Once.” She forces a smile. “The girl got pregnant.”

  I try to hide my surprise. “You’re an aunt?”

  Now her smile isn’t forced. And in that one grin on her pretty face, I see how much she loves that child. “I sure am. To a beautiful little boy who reminds me so much of my brother, it makes me ache. They actually just moved in with me.”

  No. Please be vapid.

  She let her dead brother’s mistress and son move in with her? “And Penelope? How does she feel about all of it?”

  “Penelope is an amazing person. She loves that little boy too. Her relationship with Linc was always kind of complicated. I think she loved them both from the start.”

  “I see you guys are interesting.”

  She laughs. “That’s a nice way of putting it. But still, not a reason not to work with us, right? I don’t think it’ll tarnish your reputation.”

  I want to tell her everything. Why I really wanted to know about Penelope. Why I sought their small company out for my million-dollar contract.

  And that is fucking terrifying.

  “Nothing too unsavory. My clients aren’t all that conservative anyway.”

  “Just wealthy.”

  I study her. “You have a problem with the rich?”

  “Not at all. I’ll gladly take their money.” Her grin is confident, and I fucking love it. “You?” She’s studying me i
ntently.

  “Same. I’ll take their money.”

  “You don’t come from this life, do you?”

  I swallow hard and realized I've moved closer to her on the bed. So close our thighs are touching as our legs hang over the edge of the bed. “What life is that, Lola?”

  My voice is husky, the intensity between us thick and almost suffocating.

  Her lips part, and she answers, her voice low, “Rich, privileged assholes. With big fancy homes and flashy cars.”

  My mouth is in a straight line, knowing I’m showing my cards too soon and barely caring. “No. I didn’t come from any of that. I came from nothing.”

  She’s not turned off by my confession, instead she seems to be intrigued as her fingers brush over my hand and the puffy pink scar there. “When we first met, I thought you were this entitled asshole like everyone I’ve always known.” I swallow again as I listen to her, transfixed by her full mouth and soulful eyes. “But something didn’t fit.”

  Her eyes drop to the scar. “My scar threw you off?”

  She traces it with her finger as she examines it. “Yes.”

  “Rich people don’t have scars?” I don’t take my eyes off her finger on my hand.

  “They do. But for some reason, it made you seem more real to me. Like you’ve experienced some type of hell in your life. But everything about you was so put together. Refined.” Her finger stops moving but stays on my skin as her eyes lift, as do mine. We meet each other’s gaze. “I wanted you to be like all of them, so I’d have a reason to stay far away.”

  If only she would have. “I need you to be a spoiled little rich girl for the same reason.”

  She doesn’t look hurt, her eyes dropping back to my scar. “I’m definitely that. Everything was handed to me, and I took it all for granted.”

  I pull my hand away but only to use it to tip her chin up to meet my eyes. “You’ve worked your ass off to get where you are. You quit your job with your father and moved across the country.”

  “And I'm failing. You’ve seen the finances.”

  “It’s hard to get off the ground. It won’t be long before your business is successful.”

  She smiles and shakes her head as I drop my hand from her chin, though I still want to touch her. “I’m not sure I can handle the nice, Hayden.”

  I laugh. “I’m never nice.”

  “What happened to your hand?” Her voice is low again, barely a whisper. I want to tell her everything. And I know that’s very, very dangerous.

  “We should get back to work.”

  Now she looks slightly hurt, but she nods her head curtly and picks up her iPad. “Alright.”

  “I’m sorry about your brother,” I blurt out the awkward apology. She nods her head politely but doesn’t lift her eyes.

  What the hell is the matter with me?

  It’s late when I arrive back home after working with Hayden most of the day. Working.

  Can I even call it that?

  I spent most of my day obsessing about that scar on his hand. He let me in only a little, but all it did was leave me craving more. He wasn’t a spoiled rich kid like all the boys I grew up with.

  I knew there was something else to him from day one, but I didn’t expect him to open up about it.

  Of course, he shut down as soon as I asked him about his scar, which left me thinking about only that.

  Who is he really? He’s from the same area as I am, except probably not the wealthy Mission Hills part of Kansas City where my family lived.

  An odd warm shiver flows through my body, thinking about my finger dragging over the jagged scar on his skin. I’ve never had anyone have this type of effect on me. I push the door from the garage open and nearly jump out of my skin when there is a lot of movement in the dark living room.

  I can barely make out two shadowy forms jumping off the couch and scrambling around which I take as my cue to turn around and shield my eyes.

  Oh. Shit.

  “Lola. I am so—”

  I raise my hand in the air, silencing Viv as she starts her apology. “No need to apologize.”

  This is so awkward. The lamp on the side table flicks on, and I see a disheveled Sawyer and Vivienne before me. Sawyer is still tugging his shirt down over a set of impressive abs as Viv combs her hair with her fingers.

  “I should go.” Sawyer looks like a teenager caught by his girlfriend’s parents, and it’s pretty comical.

  “Why?” I smile smugly at the guy I’ve known for years. He was Asher’s best friend for a long time, and although I hate this for my brother, it’s good to see Vivienne happy. And I've seen Sawyer around Sebastian, he loves that kid.

  His handsome face only gets more handsome when he smirks, like every fucking guy I know. “Because I'm smart enough to know where your loyalty lies.”

  My eyes drift to Viv and then slowly back to Sawyer. “You’re both adults.”

  I see the hint of guilt in Sawyer’s eyes, and even though I knew he cared about Ash, I didn’t realize he was human. He always seemed like a cocky asshole. He turns to look over his shoulder at Viv. “I’m gonna go.”

  She nods her head slowly at him. “I’ll see you soon.”

  His confidence is back as he squeezes her much smaller hand in his and winks at her. “Yeah, you will.”

  The smile on her face is full of both hope and sorrow before he places a quick kiss on her lips and gives me a wave before exiting through the front door.

  “Sorry, Viv. Didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

  She shrugs her small shoulders and takes a seat on the couch. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t . . .” She smooths her hair down. “I didn’t mean to lose control like that.”

  I take a seat next to her, intrigued and still high from my conversation with Hayden earlier. “You did with Asher too, right?”

  Her right eyebrow lifts in a question. I know I'm being totally inappropriate, but whatever. We’re family, and maybe I'm tired of holding back so much. “What exactly are you asking?”

  I bite my bottom lip and then slouch back into the couch. “No offense, Viv, but you and me . . . we’re kind of cut from the same cloth. Wealthy, spoiled, uptight, perfect girls.”

  She doesn’t object as she thinks that over and leans back next to me. “Yes?”

  “But you . . .” I turn my head to look over at her, “you somehow let go. I guess our parents would say you ‘acted out.’”

  “You mean sleeping with Colt and getting knocked-up in high school?”

  I nod my head and smile. “That and then, you know, sleeping with Asher when he was living with you.”

  Her eyes didn’t show pain when she talked about getting pregnant young, but I definitely see the anguish in her eyes when Asher is mentioned. “Yes. I don’t understand what you’re asking though.”

  “What made you let go and just do what you wanted to do?”

  Her head finally pivots to face me, and she tilts it slightly, showing understanding. “I just did it. I don’t know how to explain it. With Colt . . .” I know I flinched when she said his name, and she places her hand on my shoulder gently. “With him, it was like the perfect storm. We were both these seemingly perfect beings who were close to breaking, and we just used each other.”

  “And with Asher?”

  I hate the pain his memory causes her. “That was different. Wrong. So wrong. But so right too.”

  My heart aches for her. I know she loved my brother. Maybe she still does. “And Sawyer?”

  She smiles, her cheeks blushing slightly. “Sawyer was definitely a surprise. I didn’t expect to like him. He’s not sweet or really all that nice.”

  I laugh. “Not at all.”

  She laughs with me, not offended. “No offense to your brother, but after Asher, you would think I would go for someone sweet and attentive, you know? But—”

  “That doesn’t turn you on.” I interrupt.

  “Not at all.” She smiles and then shrugs. “But Sawyer is different.�
�

  “Than Asher?”

  She nods, and I think things are going to get awkward if it’s a sexual thing, which has me slightly concerned. “He wasn’t sure he would be good at a relationship, but he wanted to try anyway.”

  “He had the balls to be with you.” I smile. “Hot.”

  She giggles and then sighs. “Very.”

  “Asher . . .” I suddenly feel the need to defend my brother, but I don’t know what to say. She drops her hand from my shoulder and looks straight ahead.

  “Asher doesn’t want a relationship. He was very clear about that from the beginning. I was stupid and fell hard for a boy who didn’t want me.”

  I don’t know how to comfort her. “I think he does.”

  I watch her swallow the sadness. “It was primal with Asher. Sexual, but . . .”

  “No real feelings?”

  She faces me again, her face sad. “I don’t know. We cared about each other.” She repeats herself again sadly, “I don’t know.”

  “I’m sorry Viv. You seem happy with Sawyer though.”

  “It’s nice with him. Kind of comfortable, but not in an unsexy way.”

  I nod. “Are you guys serious then? Like officially?”

  She shakes her head from side to side. “No. We’re still taking it slow.”

  It didn’t seem too slow when they were going at it on my couch, but I don’t disagree as we sit there in a comfortable silence for a minute.

  “Why the questions about losing control?”

  My mind immediately goes to Hayden. “I’ve never allowed myself to do that. Everything has always been according to plan.”

  “I highly recommend letting your hair down and just going after what you want in the moment.” She laughs softly. “Just make sure you have some sort of protection.”

  I laugh at that and my eyes drift toward the hallway leading to Sebastian’s room. “It worked out for you.”

  “Absolutely.” She smiles with pride, and I lean my head on her shoulder.

  Maybe I’ll take her advice though and finally let loose.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I straighten my back and try my best to remain professional as the red chairs for the hotel bedrooms are delivered and Gretchen stands with one hand on her hip with her judgmental bitchy face staring at Hayden.