Too Long: Chapter 28
Too Long: Hayes Brothers Book 6
CIGARETTE IN HAND, I sit on our balcony, staring at the open ocean. Tonightâs 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 Addieâs foot broke through the bubbles, so instead of soaking with her, kissing her shoulder, and holding her close, Iâve spent the last two hours sorting out contractors to fix a gas failure at my Pomona cocktail bar.
Now, all Iâm waiting for is one more phone call and I can join Addie out on the main deck where sheâs having dinner with the rest of the engagement party. The 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 Conorâs twins. Vivienne and Mia are in the pool with what looks like iced coffee.
I scroll further up, checking what Iâve 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 itâs 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.
Itâs Addieâs mother.
In an elegant evening dress with a crystal glass of bourbon, she looks me up and down.
âYes?â I ask, my tone far from pleasant.
You get what you give, and Victoriaâs all judgmental, entitled vibes.
âI wondered why you didnât bother to show up for dinner. Have you something better do to?â
âWork,â I reply drily because Iâm sure Addieâs already told everyone Iâll be late, but it looks like Victoria still decided to check our stories match. âIâll be downstairs as soon as I can.â
She tilts her chin, looking uncomfortable as she stands in the corridor. No way Iâll invite her into the suite.
âIâve been married to a workaholic for thirty years, Colt. I know better than to trust your word.â Pinching her lips, she clears her throat. âVery well, I wouldâve preferred to do this in front of everyone, but as youâre soâ¦
, I have no choice but to thank you here.â
âThank me?â
âObviously. While I donât 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.â
Well, well, well, so she does have a shred of decency.
Who knew? Not me.
âNo need to thank me.â
She nods, her features softening. âThen let me give you a piece of advice instead. Youâre certainly not my favorite person, but youâve proved today that my daughterâs important to you. Unfortunately, Audreyâs been finding ways to defy me for years. Moving to California, her degree, those animals she adopts, and nowâ¦
. Youâre genuinely invested, maybe falling in love, but donât get your hopes up. Youâre nothing more than a means to an end.â
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. Itâs not like I could change her mind, so whatâs 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 everythingâs sorted, Iâm 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 Addieâs resigned tone.
âI donât want to marry him, Dad,â she sighs, clearly embarrassed about something because her voice has that squeaky quality it always does when sheâs ashamed. âMom ignores everything I say,â she continues. âI thought if I showed up with a boyfriend, sheâd stop insisting on Grant.â
A cool sweat breaks out on my back. Sheâs lasted a playing pretend, and this is when she breaks?
I canât see her, but I can tell sheâs at the bottom of the stairs, voice hush-hush and soft like she doesnât want anyone to overhear. She shouldâve hid in the library or the conference room downstairs.
âI figured it out the moment your mother told me you werenât coming alone,â Henry says, sounding amused.
âWhat? How?â
âI know you, sweetheart. I know you hate Grant, I know your mother drives you insane, and I know youâve told me about every boyfriend youâve ever had⦠just not Colt. It all smelled fishy from the start.â
âIâm sorry I lied⦠I didnât think it through,â she chuckles, but thereâs nothing happy in that sound. Itâs like she quit, like sheâs 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. Itâll be hard saving face in front of her father now.
âSo?â Henry urges, his boots shifting on the polished floor. âIs it just Grant you donât want to marry, or donât you plan on getting married at all?â He waits for a reply, but sheâs silent. âIâm glad Grant wonât end up my son-in-law, Audrey, but I donât think you should put a cross through the institution altogether.â
Another long, tense pause that has my palms sweating.
âItâs not got much that speaks in its favor,â she finally says. âAll the married women I know are miserable. I donât 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.â
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 wonât be any dates. No future. This week is all Iâm getting. Seven days of happiness abruptly pulled from under my feet.
My mindâs 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.
âI donât want to get married. I donât want kids.â
She volunteered that information. She never liedâ¦
How the fuck did I blank it out? How did I let myself fall for her so fast while this significant piece of information?
âAnd does Colt know where you stand?â Henry asks warily. âHeâs very⦠realistic in playing his role, Audrey. Are you sure heâs just pretending?â
Another sad, resigned chuckle bursts from her chest. âWe barely know each other, Dad. I met him on the Friday before we came here. Weâre basically strangers. Thereâs been no reason to talk about marriage and kids. I mean⦠itâs all just a big ruse.â
It takes me a disgraceful amount of time to hear, process, and accept what sheâs just admitted. Itâs as far from the truth as possible for me. Sure, weâve not known each other long, but weâve 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 Iâve known Addie for years, not days. Sheâs 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 hasnât 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 sheâs confused, sad, and annoyed, even if sheâs hiding it.
But while Iâm well-versed in the ways of Addie, I purposely ignored the main thing standing in our way. In way.
Now I think about it, I canât believe my own fucking stupidity. The only reason Iâm here is because she doesnât want to get married. She doesnât 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⦠sheâs it. No matter how much I want her to be, sheâs not my forever.
My pulse rings in my ears, stomach dropping to my fucking knees. Sheâs not mine. Never was, but it feels like I lost her. Like I lost someone Iâve 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.
Itâs all just a big ruse.
Weâre 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.
Addieâs perfume lingers in the air, her clothes hang in the open walk-in closet. Her things litter the space and itâs like Iâm surrounded. Sheâs not here, but sheâs everywhere.
Soon enough, sheâll come back to find out whatâs taking me so long. Sheâll smile, joke, change into pajamas, and sleep beside me all night. So close yet out of reach. Sheâll 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. Sheâll sleep safely tucked against my side where I wish she could be every night, but she wonât be mine.
She never was mine.
I canât do this. I canât go out and sit through another meal, pretending to be her boyfriend while my insides threaten mutiny. Sheâll figure out somethingâs wrong. Sheâll ask questions I canât deal with. Not while Iâm 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 hereâ¦
God, this is . We just met! She wasnât wrong about that and while I could get on board with the premise and force my heart to slow the fuck down, thereâs no denying we want completely different things.
Weâll never work. Not how I want.
I need space. Time to clear my head. Time to take apart those feelings converging inside me before itâs too late.
Maybe it already is, but itâs worth a try. The yachtâs huge. Thereâs 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.
âIâm sorry, I didnât expect anyone here,â I say.
âNo 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?â
âNo, itâs fine.â I grab the tray. âThank you.â
If heâs wondering what Iâm up to, he doesnât let it show, bowing slightly as he walks away. Food, no matter how appetizing, is the last thing on my mind. I doubt Iâd 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 Iâm 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. Addieâs 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, Iâm beat, but my mindâs going a million miles an hour, imagining everything I wonât have with her.
Itâs 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.
âCan I offer you a drink or any snacks, sir?â he asks, startling the living shit out of me. âMy apologies. I shouldâve made my presence known before speaking.â
âNo, itâs⦠itâs fine,â I say, calming my racing heart. âI didnât expect anyone to be here.â
âOh, I wasnât. I was watching the camera system, saw you enter, and thought I could be of assistance. Glass of whiskey? Popcorn?â
âA bottle of water, if you donât mind.â
He bobs his head, disappearing behind the personnel-only door. Five minutes later, he wheels in a cart filled with beverages and snacks.
âIn case youâre feeling peckish,â he explains, parking it beside me. âEnjoy the movie.â
Maybe if it was porn⦠though Iâd probably imagine Addie and .
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 itâs past one in the morning. I should get some sleep ahead of whatever fun-filled task Amaraâs planned for tomorrow.
Addieâs probably asleep by now. If I donât 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. Thereâs 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.
âA glass of whiskey could help with insomnia,â the staff member offers, his tone light.
âOne wonât hurt,â I admit.
âComing right up.â
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. Itâs 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.
âBasically strangers.â
Bullshit.
I know her so well I donât have to look over my shoulder to know whoâs padding toward me barefoot.
âHey,â Addie says. I hear her sit on the tiles and drop her legs in the water. âWhy arenât you sleeping?â
I keep my eyes on the calm waves, but even without looking at her, the smell of peaches and sugar clouds my head.
âI felt like swimming. How was dinner?â
âLonely,â she sighs, with a twinge of sadness. âAre you mad at me?â
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.
âWhy would I be mad?â
âI donât know. You didnât come out and youâve been hiding somewhere all evening⦠whatâs wrong?â
A better question would be âIâm not mad. I had to work.â
âThis long?â
âOne phone call led to another, and anotherââ
âYouâre lying,â she cuts in, her voice small. âI 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.â She inhales a harsh breath. âYou werenât working. You just didnât want to spend time with me, and I was alone, listening to my motherâs stupid comments and Grantâs innuendos.â
What am I supposed to say? Sheâs not wrong but fleshing it out wonât help. I walk to the opposite edge, downing a big gulp of whiskey as I go, then haul myself out.
âFine, I needed a few hours alone, okay?â I drape a towel over my shoulders, heading back inside. âIâll behave tomorrow.â
âThatâs it?â she scoffs. âYouâve got nothing else to say? Just ?â
âIâm tired, Addie. Iâm off to bed.â
Or . I havenât decided yet.
Iâm perfectly aware Iâm acting like an asshole, but save for stealing Grantâs helicopter, I donât have much choice. Alienating Addie is a better option than spewing the truth.
Her footsteps splash after me, but she doesnât start talking until weâre in the privacy of our suite.
âWhat the hell is your problem, Colt? Why are you acting like this? You say youâre not mad, but I can tell somethingâs bothering you. Tell me what I did wrong!â
âNothing,â I emphasize.
Itâs true. She did nothing wrong. Not one fucking thing. She didnât 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 Iâve yearned for and what did I do?
I blanked it all out. No one to blame but myself for this mess. A mess I shouldâve fucking foreseen but this girl put me under a spell at Express Dates and hasnât 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 couldnât 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 shouldâve known Iâd fall for her.
And I shouldâve fucking nipped it in the bud because she wants a life without a family.
âI donât want to get married. I donât want kids.â
She fucking me and what did I do?
I.
Blanked.
It.
All.
Out.
âYou did nothing wrong,â I repeat, entering the bathroom.
âThen what happened? We were fine before I left for dinner, and now youâre acting so⦠so .â
I make a show of looking around, the veins in my neck ticking wildly. âNo audience to impress.â
Tears well in her eyes, but she wipes them away, adamantly keeping her composure. âDonât push me away. Talk to me. Whatever I did that upset you, Iâm sorry, okay? I thought we were friends. Friends talk.â
My head snaps to her, anger gushing through me, uncontainable. Thatâs a step too goddamn far.
âFriends?
, Addie? Really? Thatâs funny. I donât think you used that word when you told your dad weâve been lying through our teeth the whole time. I believe the word you used was .â I swallow hard, briefly closing my eyes to get a hold of myself. âYou canât act like I mean something to you when you wake up, call me a stranger a few hours later, and suddenly decide weâre friends.â
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.
Iâm nothing more than a means to an end.
âGet out, Addie. I need a shower.â
Tears slide down her cheeks as she stares at me wide-eyed, worrying her bottom lip. âIâm sorry. I didnât mean it like that. I justââ She chokes, wiping her eyes, a sight I can barely stomach. âI didnât mean it, I swear.â
Her voice breaks, and along with it, every cell in my body screams. I canât handle this. Iâm fuming, disappointed, dying a slow death knowing she wonât 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. Thatâs all. One more day of memories Iâll relive for years to come.
As much as I want to storm out and start licking my wounds, my heart tells me Iâll regret that sooner than I think. Itâs not her fault our goals donât align. I canât be angry she doesnât want the same future I do. We have a different outlook on life, but neitherâs wrong.
âYouâre not a stranger,â she whispers, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. âI donât know why I said that. I was just playing thisâ¦
down in front of my dad because I canât wrap my head around it yet. We happened so fast, Colt. Dad wouldnât understand. Not now. In time, yes, but weâve only known each other a week, and even I donât understand how thatâs enough to fall inââ
âDonât say it,â I plead, pinching the bridge of my nose. Thereâs 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 wonât 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 Iâd give up for Addie. Work, lifestyle, racing, my house, cars, my business. Iâd move halfway across the world if she asked. Iâd do so fucking much to give us a fighting chance, but everyone has their limit.
Putting a cross through starting a family is mine.
âTalk to me,â Addie utters, sitting down beside me. âTell me whatâs going onâ¦â She moves her hand to the back of my head, gently scraping my scalp. âWhat are you thinking?â
I lift my head, meeting her teary eyes and hope comes from out of fucking nowhere to flood my system. âDid you mean the other thing you told your dad?â
Tonight wasnât the first time sheâs 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 canât hurt me more than Iâm already hurting.
And Iâd rather regret checking than never asking.
âAbout marriage and kids,â 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.
âI meant it.â Her voice wobbles as she nervously pinches the hem of her skirt. âI guess youâre on the other side of the fence.â
I nod as a noose wraps itself around my throat and goes hope. âIâve watched my brothers start families. Cody was the last to join the club. He married Blair two years ago, but theyâve been together longer. With every engagement, wedding, or pregnancy announcement, Iâve wanted a family of my own that much more, but the years flash by and itâs never my turn.â Itâs 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 belongsâ¦
Maybe in a different lifetime.
âThree 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 parentsâ get-togethers, listening to my brothers sharing their news. One night, Mom was hosting a BBQ, and Cody made it clear I shouldnât 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.â
Addie stirs, arching away to look at me, but doesnât interrupt, silently waiting for more.
âThe guy I raced lost control and bumped the back of my car at north of a hundred and twenty miles an hour.â
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. Iâve never told anyone about that night. I donât think Iâll get the words out if I look Addie dead in the eye. Itâs personal.
âI remember heading toward the Dodge RAM parked on the sidelines, feeling so fucking disappointed. Not scaredâ
because I hadnât lived yet. I hadnât been happy, but I was about to die.â I scoff, taking another drag. âI did die. For four minutes and eleven seconds.â
Addie shifts on the bed, then slowly gets up and crosses the room to where I stand. As if sheâs afraid Iâll push her away, she cautiously slides closer, then wraps her arms around me and cuddles her cheek to the spot where my heart thumps.
âWhy are you racing again?â
I throw one arm around her and mold her further into me, memorizing how she feels when sheâs close.
Memorizing how feel.
Calm.
Composed.
Iâd risk happy, but Iâm far from that right now.
âI 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.â I pinch the ash off my cigarette, taking one last drag before I butt it out in the ashtray. âI never found anything that let me catch a break like racing does, so I went back.â
Sheâs silent for a long time, but itâs not uncomfortable. Nothing is with Addie. Being with her is as natural as breathing.
âI donât want this to end,â she whispers, holding me tighter.
hangs in the air, unspoken. Thereâs no point stating the obvious. We know where we stand.
Fuck. This is it. Weâre done. Over. The end.
âIâm sorry,â she whispers, close to tears again. âIââ
âDonât apologize.â Catching her chin between two fingers, I tilt her head my way. âI hate that this is where we draw the line, but donât ever apologize for what you want. You only have one life, baby. Live it how you want. Make sure happy.â
I wipe the lone tear escaping her eye, but itâs a Sisyphean task. Itâs rapidly joined by more, marking her cheeks and the end of us before we ever properly began.