Authors: Michelle Lynn
“Are your brothers and sisters swimmers?” I ask, my voice much harsher than I’d like it to be. It’s not even that I’m upset by the question. I understand people’s curiosity, but I love my brother, and I’m proud of what he’s accomplished. It’s just that he is the first thing people want to know about when I meet them.
Her nail picks at a crack in the cement edging. “I told you, I don’t have any siblings.”
Fuck. Now, I feel like a dickhead. She already told me that.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
She holds up her hand to stop me from talking. “Don’t apologize.”
“Okay.”
“Is it hard to be the brother of Tanner McCain?”
I laugh, because it’s the complete opposite. “No, it’s not. I understand the natural intrigue some people have about my brother, his life as an Olympic swimmer. I think people ask me about him because they would be jealous if he were their brother. I couldn’t be prouder of him, and that’s the truth.”
“Maple-syrup sweet.”
“Excuse me?”
“You. You’re so damn sweet. Like a politician who has all his answers on some teleprompter. I just wonder”—she twists around, and my eyes narrow in on her tits emerging from the surface—“is it an act or real?”
“I’m not sweet everywhere,” I remind her.
A pink flush fills her cheeks. “I remember.” She flips back around, as though she’s somehow embarrassed about what we did.
“Bea.” I grab her attention.
Her head leans on her arm as she stares over at me. She looks like a lost little girl, and I want nothing more than to escort her home.
“It’s real. I’m not a fake.”
She picks up her head, ready to defend herself, but I push myself out of the water and to the table. Taking a towel, I begin drying myself off.
“Dylan—”
“Meet me in my room in fifteen minutes. We should knock this campaign out since you have personal shit to deal with this weekend.”
I bend down to pick up my shoes and grab my phone and key card, leaving her in the pool.
On the way to my room, a small bit of guilt embeds that I made her feel insecure on asking me personal questions but at some point, I can’t be ashamed of being a nice guy. Ava and Bea are in the same boat, wanting men who treat them like crap. And they can have the rat bastards if they want them.
A half hour later, there’s a knock on my door. I stand up from my computer to let Bea in. I open the door, and she waltzes in with her computer bag swung over her shoulder.
She has a headband thing in her hair. My eyes zoom in on her tight ass in her yoga pants while she saunters by me.
“Nice of you to be on time,” I comment.
“Fifteen minutes is not a reasonable amount of time for any woman to get ready.” She slides in a chair at the table and sets up her computer opposite mine.
I laugh, not even going to defend myself. “I was ready in ten.”
She looks over at me, her eyes scrolling up and down my body. “I’d hardly say you’re ready. Scruffy five o’clock shadow, track pants, and a T-shirt”—she squints her eyes to read the lettering—“that says,
Rub me for luck
, isn’t what I call irresistible.” She turns back around, concentrating on her computer.
I walk over to the shared table. “I wasn’t trying to impress you. I dress for comfort.” Sitting down behind my computer, I catch her eyes over our laptops.
“What’s with the shirt?”
“My friends and I wore them on St. Patrick’s Day one year. It’s my most comfortable shirt. Why?” I wink. “Do you want to give me a rub?”
A sly smirk slowly wraps her lips. “I’d love to, but I’m thinking the part I want to ‘rub’ is off-limits.” She puts quotes up in the air.
A specific part of my body is willing to forego the rules I’ve put into place, so we can shift this work thing to my bed. I’m busy calming myself down before she notices the effect she has on me when my cell rings.
I reach for the phone, and it fumbles in my hands a few times before I get a good hold of it. Bea snickers across from me.
“Hello?” I answer.
She tips her head down, as though giving me privacy.
“Hey, Tim. Yeah, we’re working on it right now.”
She lifts up, realizing it’s not a personal call.
“Yeah. No worries. We have this handled.” I wink over to Bea, leaning back in my chair, admiring the flush to her cheeks.
Bea Zanders might act like she doesn’t want someone who is kind and loving to her. She might even act like she’s good with one night of fun, but I can tell she wants more. She’s just too fearful to ask for it.
“All right. Well, we’d better get back to it.” I hang up the phone before Tim can say good-bye because, the truth is, I’m not reporting back to him on Nike. This is for the ones above him, Mr. Knight and the suits who sought me out and hired me under the stipulation that I’d be one of them in five years.
Bea is staring out the window when I turn in my seat. Her eyes are lost in the streets below as the people go about their day. Her face is solemn and blank of any emotion. Her mind is somewhere else because she hasn’t noticed in the thirty seconds that I’ve been off the phone that I’m mesmerized by her. There’s always been something about Bea, even from the time I saw her months ago.
Tanner and I were just arriving home to attend Brad’s pre-wedding cookout. Tanner was so obsessed with seeing Piper again after two years that we never even delved into my own issues with Ava even though I knew then that it was over between us. I had made the calls the week before to seek a job somewhere else besides New York. I needed to be miles away from her to somehow protect my heart.
I was bitter and promised myself my sour mood wouldn’t affect Brad and his new bride. That I’d slap on a happy smile and appear as though my new life was marvelous.
“Shit, my stomach feels like a pack of lions is clawing to free themselves,” Tanner said as we pulled up the driveway of our parents’ house.
Cars lined the streets of our childhood home because the Ashby’s parties were always huge, over-the-top affairs. . Ever since we were young, Brad’s and Piper’s birthday parties were elaborate and planned to the exact minute.
We climbed out of his rental car, and his eyes instantly looked to the backyard of the Ashby’s. He turned around, and the dismay in his features wasn’t hard to overlook. My big brother, the Olympic hopeful, was a nervous wreck about seeing the woman he’d let slip out of his hands two years prior.
“Calm down. I’m sure she feels the same way.” I move to the trunk to retrieve my bag. “Let’s take our luggage into the house to get it over with.”
His Adam’s apple rose and fell with a hard swallow, and his eyes wandered back to where we assumed she was.
Tanner seemed like a lost puppy, unsure of what to do, his mind too consumed with Piper. So, he followed me into our quiet house because our parents had already gone over to the Ashby’s. We dropped our bags, and for a minute, I thought Tanner wasn’t going to come, but he inhaled a deep breath and pushed himself out the door.
The whole way, he hemmed and hawed, the fight within himself showing.
At that moment, I promised myself one thing. When a woman could bring that reaction out of me, she would be a keeper. If I were going through that much turmoil to see her again but still striving forward, she would be worth my love. All that made me realize was that Ava wasn’t that woman.
“You have got to put on a front, man,” I said to Tanner as my finger reached for the bell.
“I can’t wait until you are in my exact spot.” Tanner tried to turn this around on me.
“That will never happen because I’ll never be the jackass who lets the love of my life slip away.”
Tanner’s lips turned down, and for a second, I almost apologized because the guy had regretted his actions enough. He didn’t need his brother throwing it in his face.
Before I had the opportunity to do so, Mrs. Ashby opened the door with a wide welcoming smile.
“Boys.” She held her arms for us to come in and hug her.
I’d known her since I was five, and with our sets of parents being best friends, she was kind of like a second mother to me.
“Mrs. Ashby.” I stepped in first since Tanner’s feet appeared to be frozen to the stoop.
“Look at you, Dylan. You’re a man. Are those tattoos?” She tsked with her finger waving in front of my face. “Never thought it’d be you. Brad maybe.” She laughed at her own son’s expense, but she had a point. “Everyone’s in the back. You should—”
Just as she was about to say more, my mom turned the corner from the kitchen.
“My babies,” she cooed, running toward us with her arms stretched out.
As I was swarmed in my mom’s arms, I saw Tanner’s stiff arms around Mrs. Ashby. My mom let me go and moved toward Tanner, saving him from any more awkwardness. From the conversation in the car, Tanner was worried that Mrs. Ashby knew what had happened.
Leaving him behind me, sure to have a front row seat to his and Piper’s reunion, I opened the French patio door, only to step outside to the party. Caramel eyes quickly found mine, and the panic on her face made me run up to her.
I wrapped her in my arms, spinning us around, before setting her feet down on the ground. She was still as beautiful as I remembered from two years ago since I hadn’t come home, either having my parents coming out to me or meeting in Colorado with Tanner. Tanner had refused to come home, so we would make plans to make sure it didn’t happen.
“Dylan, you’ve become a man . . . a very tattooed man.” Piper laughed, her fingers grazing down my full-sleeved arms.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her wide eyes. “Yeah, well, I figured I’d never be as perfect as Tanner, so to hell with everyone.” I wished the bitterness from Ava’s nitpicking wasn’t so evident.
Piper only tilted her head to the side. “You’re just as perfect as Tanner.”
I shot her a wink. If it worked out and she became my sister-in-law, I’d be one lucky guy to call her family.
“Aw, thanks, girl, but don’t lie to me.” I pulled her in for one more hug.
Her fingers clenched my shirt, like I was her life vest in the middle of the ocean.
Her body began to shake in my hands, and a small smile creased my lips because she was just as nervous as my brother.
“He’s right behind me, Piper,” I informed her. My T-shirt became tighter from it being wound in her grip. “Thought I should warn you.”
“Thanks,” she murmured into my shoulder, still not letting me go.
“You have to let me go. Otherwise, people are going to talk about you and the McCain boys.”
She giggled and drew back. I held her hands for a second, reassuring her with my eyes that she had this. Her head nodded, and even if she looked like tears were going to fall from her eyes, she tried to assure me that she was good. So, I let her go and concentrated on Brad and his friends.
After fist pumps and half-body hugs, I caught a blonde from the corner of my eye. When I turned directly toward her, her eyes veered away from me, concentrating on her phone. It was an odd sensation, but I had to hear her voice. All my life, nothing like this had happened to me. From just one glance, I felt drawn to her, wanting to know her. When I’d seen her at Michigan years before, I never got to talk to her.
My feet moved without me telling them to, and my brain told me to take the seat next to her. The oddest thing happened when I did though. I stared directly at her, and she only turned the other way, typing away on her phone.
I was never the guy who enjoyed the chase or the challenge of getting a girl who was obviously playing a game. But with her, I couldn’t deny giving her my full attention. This seed sprouted inside me, saying she needed me. I’d never turned my back on someone.
“Hi,” I said, earning a glance over, “I’m Dylan.”
I held out my hand, waiting for the delicate feel of her silky skin to touch mine, as though this light would illuminate in the sky, signaling we were somehow meant to meet.
“Bea.” She put her hand up in the air in greeting.
“Oh, Piper’s friend, right?” I tried to spur the conversation more with my hand still out.
She glanced down at my hand and back to my eyes. “You want to come home with me tonight?”
My eyes must have flashed alarm. I guessed that connection I thought was going to ignite a fireball in the sky wasn’t right at all. “Sorry, did you want to have a conversation first?”
I had to laugh because this girl couldn’t be serious, and usually, such forwardness turned me off. But, again, that nagging pulled at me, and I wanted to know why she was willing to take me home tonight when she didn’t even know my last name.
“Yeah.” Her head drew back, surprise flickering in her bright hazel eyes. “Yeah, I do.”
Bea
I CAN’T HELP BUT STARE
at the people below through the window of Dylan’s hotel room. I’m searching for something I’ll never find, a sign that others live the same hollow life I do.