“What the fuck man?” I glower at him, picking myself up.
“I had to save you from yourself.” He shrugs, placing his hand on my shoulder and steering me away. “What’s going on?” he asks in a lowered voice, leading me over to the water fountain.
I bend, guzzling down the water. Standing up straight once more I lift the edge of my shirt, wiping my sweaty face.
I let out a breath and stick my hands on my hips. “Mia’s not ready to tell her dad, but fuck … it feels wrong spending all this time with him, having him mentor us and he doesn’t know. He’s going to be pissed if he learns how long this has been going on. It’s going to be Thanksgiving soon and he fucking invited us to his house, man. Like we’re family or some shit and all I can think about is him finding out there and stabbing me with the carving knife.
Serious, steadfast, always level-headed Cannon busts out laughing.
“He’s not going to stab you,” he chortles. The bastard even wipes tears from his eyes.
“He might,” I grumble. “I am sleeping with his daughter.”
“You didn’t say fucking. I’m impressed.”
I sigh. “Believe me, we fuck, but we also don’t. It’s different with her.”
“There are feelings,” he fills in.
“Yeah,” I sigh, taking a seat on the bench.
He sits down beside me. I have no clue where Rush and Fox are, but I pray to God they don’t stumble upon us to give their two cents.
Friends or not I’m not sure I could take it.
“The way I see it,” Cannon begins, and I try not to roll my eyes at the tone of his voice, “Hayes is going to be mad no matter when he finds out. If Mia doesn’t want to tell him yet, you have to respect that. He’s her dad.”
“He’s our boss,” I remind him. “He could—”
He holds up a tattooed-covered
hand to shut me up. “I know what he could do. He can throw us out on our asses, refuse to work with us, I know the risks of your relationship with her. We all do. And believe me, I would’ve beaten you senseless if I hadn’t witnessed the way you look at her. She’s not another hook up to you. You love her.” He shrugs, placing his hands on his knees. “We’ll deal with whatever comes when it happens. But all I can say is, if he refuses to work with us because you’re in love with his daughter then Hayes isn’t the man I think he is.”
I press my lips together and hold my fist out for a fist bump. He returns the gesture, cracking a small smile.
“It’ll all work out, dude,” he tells me. “Don’t stress.”
I want to believe him, I really fucking do.
* * *
In a blur it’s suddenly Thanksgiving. We’ve been here since late August.
Three months.
Three months that have completely changed my life.
In the big scheme of things three months seems like nothing, such a short blip of time, but I guess that’s the thing about change—when it happens it happens, there is no appropriate timeline for it.
“How do I look?” Mia asks, coming out of the bathroom.
Her hair is curled, hanging down to slightly past her breasts. She’s dressed in a tight pair of jeans with rips in the knees, boots, and a slouchy sweater. It’s a simple, not dressed up look, but I still want to rip her clothes off and devour her.
“Fucking beautiful,” I answer, my hands shoved into my jeans.
“You look nice too,” she comments, taking in my button-down shirt tucked into my pants.
“I am going to your parents’ house,” I remind her. “I’ve got to look nice.”