CIGARETTE IN HAND, I sit on our balcony, staring at the open ocean. Tonight’s not going according to plan.
Instead of taking a long bubble bath with Addie like she asked me too once her breathing stabilized, I got caught in a whirlwind of work. Conor called with an emergency just as Addie’s foot broke through the bubbles, so instead of soaking with her, kissing her shoulder, and holding her close, I’ve spent the last two hours sorting out contractors to fix a gas failure at my Pomona cocktail bar.
Now, all I’m waiting for is one more phone call and I can join Addie out on the main deck where she’s having dinner with the rest of the engagement party. The last dinner on the yacht.
To kill time, I check the messages in the Hayes group chat. Nico sent a picture of Melody playing in the garden with Conor’s twins. Vivienne and Mia are in the pool with what looks like iced coffee.
I scroll further up, checking what I’ve missed over the past week of barely opening the chat, and find more pictures of my brothers with their families.
I toss the phone aside when a knock reverberates through the apartment. Addie knows the pin, so it could be her father, or maybe Grant, ready to spew a few shitty lines because I threatened to knock his teeth out.
Better if it’s not him. My foul mood might cost him more than just his teeth. But as I fling the door open, neither man stands out in the corridor.
It’s Addie’s mother.
In an elegant evening dress with a crystal glass of bourbon, she looks me up and down.
“Yes?” I ask, my tone far from pleasant.
You get what you give, and Victoria’s all judgmental, entitled vibes.
“I wondered why you didn’t bother to show up for dinner. Have you something better do to?”
“Work,” I reply drily because I’m sure Addie’s already told everyone I’ll be late, but it looks like Victoria still decided to check our stories match. “I’ll be downstairs as soon as I can.”
She tilts her chin, looking uncomfortable as she stands in the corridor. No way I’ll invite her into the suite.
“I’ve been married to a workaholic for thirty years, Colt. I know better than to trust your word.” Pinching her lips, she clears her throat. “Very well, I would’ve preferred to do this in front of everyone, but as you’re so… busy, I have no choice but to thank you here.”
“Thank me?”
“Obviously. While I don’t care for your crude methods, rude tone, or choice of words, you did help Audrey cross the bridge safely. Contrary to what she thinks, and undoubtedly told you, I care about my daughter, so… thank you.”
Well, well, well, so she does have a shred of decency.
Who knew? Not me.
“No need to thank me.”
She nods, her features softening. “Then let me give you a piece of advice instead. You’re certainly not my favorite person, but you’ve proved today that my daughter’s important to you. Unfortunately, Audrey’s been finding ways to defy me for years. Moving to California, her degree, those animals she adopts, and now… you. You’re genuinely invested, maybe falling in love, but don’t get your hopes up. You’re nothing more than a means to an end.”
Not waiting for my reply, she gives me a pitiful look, turns, and marches off, every move gracious and confident, her long navy dress swishing around her ankles.
Words crowd the tip of my tongue, begging to be let out, but starting an argument with Victoria Weston seems counterproductive. It’s not like I could change her mind, so what’s the point in trying?
Wasted effort.
Closing the door with a quiet click, I almost break my leg sprinting across the suite to my ringing phone. Ten minutes later, when the conversation ends and everything’s sorted, I’m finally free to enjoy the last hours of my unplanned vacation.
I leave my phone on the balcony table before heading down the corridor toward the staircase up to the main deck. Hushed voices halt me in my tracks at the end, and I immediately recognize Addie’s resigned tone.
“I don’t want to marry him, Dad,” she sighs, clearly embarrassed about something because her voice has that squeaky quality it always does when she’s ashamed. “Mom ignores everything I say,” she continues. “I thought if I showed up with a boyfriend, she’d stop insisting on Grant.”
A cool sweat breaks out on my back. She’s lasted a week playing pretend, and this is when she breaks?
I can’t see her, but I can tell she’s at the bottom of the stairs, voice hush-hush and soft like she doesn’t want anyone to overhear. She should’ve hid in the library or the conference room downstairs.
“I figured it out the moment your mother told me you weren’t coming alone,” Henry says, sounding amused.
“What? How?”
“I know you, sweetheart. I know you hate Grant, I know your mother drives you insane, and I know you’ve told me about every boyfriend you’ve ever had… just not Colt. It all smelled fishy from the start.”
“I’m sorry I lied… I didn’t think it through,” she chuckles, but there’s nothing happy in that sound. It’s like she quit, like she’s so fucking over this whole situation.
I have the urge to fly downstairs and hide her in my arms. I also have the urge to bend her over my lap and spank her ass for not giving me a heads-up about spilling her guts. It’ll be hard saving face in front of her father now.
“So?” Henry urges, his boots shifting on the polished floor. “Is it just Grant you don’t want to marry, or don’t you plan on getting married at all?” He waits for a reply, but she’s silent. “I’m glad Grant won’t end up my son-in-law, Audrey, but I don’t think you should put a cross through the institution altogether.”
Another long, tense pause that has my palms sweating.
“It’s not got much that speaks in its favor,” she finally says. “All the married women I know are miserable. I don’t want a husband, Dad. I want to finish school and open a veterinary clinic. A safe place for abandoned injured animals. I want to travel the world and make my own choices.”
Her words drop on me like a guillotine. My chest constricts. The date, my future plans, the hope I felt when I held her in my arms two hours ago, the feelings infecting my system… it all dies a sad death. My dreams brutally severed.
There won’t be any dates. No future. This week is all I’m getting. Seven days of happiness abruptly pulled from under my feet.
My mind’s reeling, my stomach in knots, and I feel physically fucking sick, ready to double over and throw up. An echo of what she said the night we met comes back like the recoil from a gunshot.
“I don’t want to get married. I don’t want kids.”
She volunteered that information. She never lied…
How the fuck did I blank it out? How did I let myself fall for her so fast while knowing this significant piece of information?
“And does Colt know where you stand?” Henry asks warily. “He’s very… realistic in playing his role, Audrey. Are you sure he’s just pretending?”
Another sad, resigned chuckle bursts from her chest. “We barely know each other, Dad. I met him on the Friday before we came here. We’re basically strangers. There’s been no reason to talk about marriage and kids. I mean… it’s all just a big ruse.”
It takes me a disgraceful amount of time to hear, process, and accept what she’s just admitted. It’s as far from the truth as possible for me. Sure, we’ve not known each other long, but we’ve spent every waking hour of the past week together.
I know more about her than any other woman in my life, my sister included. I feel like I’ve known Addie for years, not days. She’s told me about her past, her family, her goals, and dreams. I know every detail, the answers to all the first-date questions.
And the things she hasn’t told me?
I know them as well.
I know her fears, how she writes with her right hand but favors her left when holding a glass. I know which smiles are genuine, when she’s confused, sad, and annoyed, even if she’s hiding it.
But while I’m well-versed in the ways of Addie, I purposely ignored the main thing standing in our way. In my way.
Now I think about it, I can’t believe my own fucking stupidity. The only reason I’m here is because she doesn’t want to get married. She doesn’t want to be a wife or start a family.
The three things I crave.
No matter how much I like her, how deep I already fell, how much I feel for her… she’s not it. No matter how much I want her to be, she’s not my forever.
My pulse rings in my ears, stomach dropping to my fucking knees. She’s not mine. Never was, but it feels like I lost her. Like I lost someone I’ve waited for too long. Like the light at the end of the tunnel just flickered out.
Her words bounce around my head as I back out.
It’s all just a big ruse.
We’re basically strangers.
Strangers.
Strangers.
Strangers.
Fuck. Who knew words could cut so deep?
In a trance, I get back to our suite and close the door, squeezing the back of my neck, the huge space like a luxurious prison cell… suffocating.
Addie’s perfume lingers in the air, her clothes hang in the open walk-in closet. Her things litter the space and it’s like I’m surrounded. She’s not here, but she’s everywhere.
Soon enough, she’ll come back to find out what’s taking me so long. She’ll smile, joke, change into pajamas, and sleep beside me all night. So close yet out of reach. She’ll nuzzle her button nose into the crook of my neck, breathing me in like she has every night since we snapped and went the distance.
Her hair will tickle my skin. The peach and sugar smell of her will taunt me just as much as her warm, soft body. She’ll sleep safely tucked against my side where I wish she could be every night, but she won’t be mine.
She never was mine.
I can’t do this. I can’t go out and sit through another meal, pretending to be her boyfriend while my insides threaten mutiny. She’ll figure out something’s wrong. She’ll ask questions I can’t deal with. Not while I’m coming apart at the seams, losing my fucking purpose.
Not while this heavy disappointment threatens to crush my lungs, bones, and mind.
I wish I never fucking came here…
God, this is insanity. We just met! She wasn’t wrong about that and while I could get on board with the premise and force my heart to slow the fuck down, there’s no denying we want completely different things.
We’ll never work. Not how I want.
I need space. Time to clear my head. Time to take apart those feelings converging inside me before it’s too late.
Maybe it already is, but it’s worth a try. The yacht’s huge. There’s a library, a cinema room, arcades, swimming pools, even a gym. I change into swim shorts and a t-shirt, my mind set on hiding away on the third deck.
I open the door and almost tackle a waiter to the ground. He ducks at the last moment, saving the tray of food from tumbling to the floor.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone here,” I say.
“No problem. Miss Audrey thought you might be hungry. Were you on your way to join the others? Should I take this back to the table for you?”
“No, it’s fine.” I grab the tray. “Thank you.”
If he’s wondering what I’m up to, he doesn’t let it show, bowing slightly as he walks away. Food, no matter how appetizing, is the last thing on my mind. I doubt I’d stomach one bite, so I leave the tray on the breakfast bar and head out, changing my mind about the swim before I reach the elevator.
Since I’m seriously lacking endorphins, and working out always gets them flowing, I hit the gym.
I start with weights, and once my arms get too weak, I move to the treadmill. Addie’s in my head no matter how hard I push her out, so after two hours, I lock myself in the steam sauna before taking a cold shower.
None of which distracts me. Physically, I’m beat, but my mind’s going a million miles an hour, imagining everything I won’t have with her.
It’s my head that needs a distraction.
I hit the cinema room, choosing from a huge selection of movies as I settle onto the couch at the back. One of the crew members materializes before the opening credits.
“Can I offer you a drink or any snacks, sir?” he asks, startling the living shit out of me. “My apologies. I should’ve made my presence known before speaking.”
“No, it’s… it’s fine,” I say, calming my racing heart. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”
“Oh, I wasn’t. I was watching the camera system, saw you enter, and thought I could be of assistance. Glass of whiskey? Popcorn?”
“A bottle of water, if you don’t mind.”
He bobs his head, disappearing behind the personnel-only door. Five minutes later, he wheels in a cart filled with beverages and snacks.
“In case you’re feeling peckish,” he explains, parking it beside me. “Enjoy the movie.”
Maybe if it was porn… though I’d probably imagine Addie and nope. Not going there.
Like all Marvel movies, this one is action-packed and pulls me out of the tumult in my head. Once the end credits roll in, I stay in my seat, pondering the idea of starting another, but one glance at my wristwatch tells me it’s past one in the morning. I should get some sleep ahead of whatever fun-filled task Amara’s planned for tomorrow.
Addie’s probably asleep by now. If I don’t make any noise, I can crash on the couch and avoid questions. Halfway up the stairs, I change my mind and end up on the third deck. Purple lighting illuminates the infinity pool and its adjacent seating areas. There’s a pop-up bar to the left, and the same man who found me in the cinema finds me here.
Looks like they have staff working around the clock.
He sets a bottle of water and a fresh towel on a nearby lounger. The same lounger where Addie came undone, panting my name while I kissed her neck.
I shove the thought aside, wishing I could file my memories of her far, far away and never see them again.
“A glass of whiskey could help with insomnia,” the staff member offers, his tone light.
“One won’t hurt,” I admit.
“Coming right up.”
I dive under, swimming the length of the pool until I perch my elbows against the glass edge. The ocean gleams before me, reflecting the thousands of stars speckling the night sky. Away from land and artificial light pollution, the sky here is darker, the stars brighter.
I run a hand through my wet hair, raking it back. It’s so fucking peaceful out here. My problems seem insignificant, the emotional turmoil a distant hum at the back of my mind.
Not for long.
The waiter comes over, crouching by the edge to pass me a crystal glass filled with way more than two fingers of whiskey. Five at least. I guess he can tell I need more than a regulation shot to numb my head.
As soon as his footsteps retreat, I hear different ones. Lighter, softer… unmistakable.
“Basically strangers.”
Bullshit.
I know her so well I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know who’s padding toward me barefoot.
“Hey,” Addie says. I hear her sit on the tiles and drop her legs in the water. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
I keep my eyes on the calm waves, but even without looking at her, the smell of peaches and sugar clouds my head.
“I felt like swimming. How was dinner?”
“Lonely,” she sighs, with a twinge of sadness. “Are you mad at me?”
Now I turn, taking her in. Gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous, in a short, light-blue nightdress, her hair braided and thrown over one shoulder, eyes big and clear.
“Why would I be mad?”
“I don’t know. You didn’t come out and you’ve been hiding somewhere all evening… what’s wrong?”
A better question would be what’s right?
“I’m not mad. I had to work.”
“This long?”
“One phone call led to another, and another—”
“You’re lying,” she cuts in, her voice small. “I came to check if you enjoyed dinner a half-hour after I sent it. You were gone, but your phone… you left it on the balcony.” She inhales a harsh breath. “You weren’t working. You just didn’t want to spend time with me, and I was alone, listening to my mother’s stupid comments and Grant’s innuendos.”
What am I supposed to say? She’s not wrong but fleshing it out won’t help. I walk to the opposite edge, downing a big gulp of whiskey as I go, then haul myself out.
“Fine, I needed a few hours alone, okay?” I drape a towel over my shoulders, heading back inside. “I’ll behave tomorrow.”
“That’s it?” she scoffs. “You’ve got nothing else to say? Just I’ll behave?”
“I’m tired, Addie. I’m off to bed.”
Or couch. I haven’t decided yet.
I’m perfectly aware I’m acting like an asshole, but save for stealing Grant’s helicopter, I don’t have much choice. Alienating Addie is a better option than spewing the truth.
Her footsteps splash after me, but she doesn’t start talking until we’re in the privacy of our suite.
“What the hell is your problem, Colt? Why are you acting like this? You say you’re not mad, but I can tell something’s bothering you. Tell me what I did wrong!”
“Nothing,” I emphasize.
It’s true. She did nothing wrong. Not one fucking thing. She didn’t lie or lead me by the nose. She was crystal clear about my role on this fancy yacht. She was crystal clear about not wanting any of the things I’ve yearned for and what did I do?
I blanked it all out. No one to blame but myself for this mess. A mess I should’ve fucking foreseen but this girl put me under a spell at Express Dates and hasn’t let go since.
There were clues. Blatant, obvious, glaring clues: when I fell asleep with a shit-eating grin, knowing she was just behind my bedroom wall; when we spent hours talking, preparing for this trip and I couldn’t stop asking questions, hungry for every scrap of information; when I kissed her head for the first time and my world tilted on its axis.
I should’ve known I’d fall for her.
And I should’ve fucking nipped it in the bud because she wants a life without a family.
“I don’t want to get married. I don’t want kids.”
She fucking told me and what did I do?
I.
Blanked.
It.
All.
Out.
“You did nothing wrong,” I repeat, entering the bathroom.
“Then what happened? We were fine before I left for dinner, and now you’re acting so… so cold.”
I make a show of looking around, the veins in my neck ticking wildly. “No audience to impress.”
Tears well in her eyes, but she wipes them away, adamantly keeping her composure. “Don’t push me away. Talk to me. Whatever I did that upset you, I’m sorry, okay? I thought we were friends. Friends talk.”
My head snaps to her, anger gushing through me, uncontainable. That’s a step too goddamn far.
“Friends? Friends, Addie? Really? That’s funny. I don’t think you used that word when you told your dad we’ve been lying through our teeth the whole time. I believe the word you used was strangers.” I swallow hard, briefly closing my eyes to get a hold of myself. “You can’t act like I mean something to you when you wake up, call me a stranger a few hours later, and suddenly decide we’re friends.”
Her lips part, then close, then part again. No words. She has no answer. No comeback. Of course not. Looks like Victoria was right about something.
I’m nothing more than a means to an end.
“Get out, Addie. I need a shower.”
Tears slide down her cheeks as she stares at me wide-eyed, worrying her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just—” She chokes, wiping her eyes, a sight I can barely stomach. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”
Her voice breaks, and along with it, every cell in my body screams. I can’t handle this. I’m fuming, disappointed, dying a slow death knowing she won’t be mine, but my explosive cocktail of emotions ebbs, leaving behind just the need to hold her, and make her feel better.
My heart and mind go to war as fresh tears wet her cheeks. We have one day left. Less than twenty-four hours before we part ways. That’s all. One more day of memories I’ll relive for years to come.
As much as I want to storm out and start licking my wounds, my heart tells me I’ll regret that sooner than I think. It’s not her fault our goals don’t align. I can’t be angry she doesn’t want the same future I do. We have a different outlook on life, but neither’s wrong.
“You’re not a stranger,” she whispers, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I don’t know why I said that. I was just playing this… us down in front of my dad because I can’t wrap my head around it yet. We happened so fast, Colt. Dad wouldn’t understand. Not now. In time, yes, but we’ve only known each other a week, and even I don’t understand how that’s enough to fall in—”
“Don’t say it,” I plead, pinching the bridge of my nose. There’s nothing I want to hear more, but walking away from her will be that much harder if she says it.
I cross the room, sit on the bed, and hide my face in my hands. It takes me two solid minutes to align my thoughts. Her unspoken admission hangs between us, testing my resolve.
I try to imagine a life where she won’t take my surname. A life without kids.
I try flushing my dreams down the drain just so I can hold onto her, but the idea of having a family sprouted roots a long time ago and those roots reach deep into my bones.
There are a hundred things I’d give up for Addie. Work, lifestyle, racing, my house, cars, my business. I’d move halfway across the world if she asked. I’d do so fucking much to give us a fighting chance, but everyone has their limit.
Putting a cross through starting a family is mine.
“Talk to me,” Addie utters, sitting down beside me. “Tell me what’s going on…” She moves her hand to the back of my head, gently scraping my scalp. “What are you thinking?”
I lift my head, meeting her teary eyes and hope comes from out of fucking nowhere to flood my system. “Did you mean the other thing you told your dad?”
Tonight wasn’t the first time she’s boldly stated that marriage and kids have no place in her life, but… a drowning man will grasp any straw. Asking the question and hearing the answer can’t hurt me more than I’m already hurting.
And I’d rather regret checking than never asking.
“About marriage and kids,” I add.
Ten seconds pass before she reacts. Recognition flashes in her eyes and they lose their glow, turning dull as she drops her hand, inching away from me.
“I meant it.” Her voice wobbles as she nervously pinches the hem of her skirt. “I guess you’re on the other side of the fence.”
I nod as a noose wraps itself around my throat and puff goes hope. “I’ve watched my brothers start families. Cody was the last to join the club. He married Blair two years ago, but they’ve been together longer. With every engagement, wedding, or pregnancy announcement, I’ve wanted a family of my own that much more, but the years flash by and it’s never my turn.” It’s involuntary by now… kissing her head.
One, two, and a third for good measure.
God, she feels so fucking good in my arms. She was made for me. This is where she belongs…
Maybe in a different lifetime.
“Three years ago, I was fine. I was only twenty-four, so there was no pressure on the family front, but it was getting harder to sit through my parents’ get-togethers, listening to my brothers sharing their news. One night, Mom was hosting a BBQ, and Cody made it clear I shouldn’t miss it. I was in a particularly foul mood that night, and instead of getting there on time, I got Curly to fix up another race.”
Addie stirs, arching away to look at me, but doesn’t interrupt, silently waiting for more.
“The guy I raced lost control and bumped the back of my car at north of a hundred and twenty miles an hour.”
I move her to sit beside me and get up, standing in the open balcony door with a cigarette in my mouth. Inhaling a cloud of smoke, I stare at the horizon. I’ve never told anyone about that night. I don’t think I’ll get the words out if I look Addie dead in the eye. It’s personal.
“I remember heading toward the Dodge RAM parked on the sidelines, feeling so fucking disappointed. Not scared—Disappointed because I hadn’t lived yet. I hadn’t been happy, but I was about to die.” I scoff, taking another drag. “I did die. For four minutes and eleven seconds.”
Addie shifts on the bed, then slowly gets up and crosses the room to where I stand. As if she’s afraid I’ll push her away, she cautiously slides closer, then wraps her arms around me and cuddles her cheek to the spot where my heart thumps.
“Why are you racing again?”
I throw one arm around her and mold her further into me, memorizing how she feels when she’s close.
Memorizing how I feel.
Calm.
Composed.
I’d risk happy, but I’m far from that right now.
“I spent six months in physiotherapy, and once I was up and running, I was on a mission to find someone I could spend my life with. Someone to come home to. I went on hundreds of first dates, but nothing came of it. A year after the accident, I was still where I started. Alone.” I pinch the ash off my cigarette, taking one last drag before I butt it out in the ashtray. “I never found anything that let me catch a break like racing does, so I went back.”
She’s silent for a long time, but it’s not uncomfortable. Nothing is with Addie. Being with her is as natural as breathing.
“I don’t want this to end,” she whispers, holding me tighter.
But hangs in the air, unspoken. There’s no point stating the obvious. We know where we stand.
Fuck. This is it. We’re done. Over. The end.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, close to tears again. “I—”
“Don’t apologize.” Catching her chin between two fingers, I tilt her head my way. “I hate that this is where we draw the line, but don’t ever apologize for what you want. You only have one life, baby. Live it how you want. Make sure you’re happy.”
I wipe the lone tear escaping her eye, but it’s a Sisyphean task. It’s rapidly joined by more, marking her cheeks and the end of us before we ever properly began.
