It doesn’t matter how I feel—insider or outsider, fate or not—now I’m here at Dad’s company, and that means leaving the past behind enough to be able to work alongside Alexa and convince the outside world, the investors—Mum, even—that all is well.
And all is well.
I close my eyes, feel the sun trying to break through the clouds and warm my face...
All will be well.
Movement inside the outer office has me turning sharply on my heel. It’s six-thirty a.m.—hardly a time I would expect anyone to be in—and I’m already opening my office door before I think better of it. Before I acknowledge that there’s only one person who’d be here at this time...
‘Lexi?’
I want to wince as her name comes out in its pet form. It’s as if I’m exposing the old me—the one who loved her—each time I do it. But she hasn’t even heard me, and I’m too surprised at what I’m seeing to try again.
She’s dressed for a run: skin-tight Lycra from head to toe, showing off every curve, hot pink earphones dangling from her ears and her hair swinging in a ponytail. She’s obviously just finished, judging by the flushed sheen to her skin, and she’s singing under her breath, practically skipping as she moves on, unaware of my presence.
I lean into the doorframe and watch as she goes to the water cooler. She bends forward to fill the bottle in her hand. Her perfect behind, round and full, hugged in black Lycra, is offered out to me, and I feel an unwelcome surge of heat rush south.
Her voice inches higher as she hits the chorus of a song I can only just about recognise from her high-pitched rendition and I feel my lips quirk upwards. I’ve not seen her like this—relaxed, happy even—in so long. Her hips start to rock back and forth to the music as she carries on filling the bottle—Christ, how much does that bottle take?—and I feel my cock pulsing, getting harder, hotter, with each sway.
Jesus.
I adjust myself, and to my horror she spins and falters and freezes as her eyes hit mine. Water erupts out of the bottle as she clenches it too tightly, her other hand still holding the lid.
‘Cain!’
She’s the picture of embarrassment, and damn if that doesn’t make her sexier still, with her lips parted in a provocative O, her colour high. My gaze travels lower, to where the water from the bottle meets the sweat that runs down the unzipped V of her running top, which she’s clearly yanked down, thinking no one will be in yet. And then there are her breasts, the teasing curve of each as she pants for breath—
Holy Mother of...
I drag my eyes up to her mouth, which is still parted, to her cheeks flushing darker still, to her eyes, which are bright... And then she blinks and the shutter falls into place, her easy spirit evaporating as if it never existed.
She yanks the earbuds out. ‘You could have warned me you were here.’
‘I tried.’
‘Well, I...’
She opens and closes her mouth. When she does it again I’m hit with the oddest desire to laugh and I can’t stop it. It erupts out of me. And I haven’t laughed in so long my head spins with it. She glares at me, and that only makes me laugh harder. Maybe I’m starti
ng to lose my mind a little. Is this what grief does when you don’t let it out?
‘What’s so funny?’
I push off the doorframe and close the distance between us, my eyes on the earphones now dangling from her clenched fist.
‘Still your favourite band, huh?’
She closes her eyes and shakes her head. ‘You heard all that?’
‘Yup.’
I take the bottle from her weakening grip and bend to fill it up once more. It keeps me busy and it’s a nice gesture. I’m hoping that with enough nice gestures we can start the day on neutral ground. Do what needs to be done for the company’s sake.
‘Lucky for you, you have a well-paid day-job.’
She takes the bottle from me and screws the lid on. ‘Thanks.’
‘No, thank you—that little scene brightened up an otherwise shitty morning.’