I became closed off, guarded, particular about everything in my life down to the smallest detail. I wasn’t even sure what is was about Taylor Lawson that made me want to let her in.
I’d been thinking about it all week and I still hadn’t figured it out.
I liked looking at her. I liked talking to her. But it was more than that.
I got a strong sense that she’d be willing to follow my rules.
Let me have control where I needed it, which was pretty much everywhere, in every little thing. And I didn’t think she’d treat me like a freak because of it. Or tiptoe around me. Or butt heads with me over every trivial thing. She had strong instincts for navigating around other people, and I could feel that when she walked into my house and looked me in the eye, gently grilling me without being rude.
She was respectful without kissing ass.
She had a subtle, dry sass about her that was endearing without being prickly or obnoxious.
It made me want to be around her.
I hadn’t felt that way about literally anyone in a really long time.
My phone vibrated with a text message, just as I was sitting down in her new chair to test it, make sure I’d put it together right. The leather was soft and it sank smoothly under my weight as I adjusted the height; it was the same as my chair.
I spun and rolled toward my desk to pick up my phone.
Xander: We’re almost done moving Taylor’s shit in. Come have a beer. It’s Saturday.
Me: In a bit.
Maybe half a minute later, someone put on Our Last Night’s cover of “The Middle.” Taylor, possibly, since I now knew they were one of her favorite bands—I may have texted her several days ago to demand she send me a list, as if it was a condition of her employment, when it wasn’t; I’d asked for her top ten, not just three, because I was obsessive like that.
It was definitely Xander who pushed the music through to my in-house sound system, though. Loud.
I’d never been able to figure out how he always bumped my connection when he paired his phone to my speakers. But I didn’t take the bait. I just let it play, closing myself into the studio control room and shutting off the speakers in there, and slipping on my headphones.
Then I got another text.
Taylor: This is kind of turning into a pool party. Xander said it was ok. If you want me to tell them to go, just let me know.
I smiled to myself a little.
Me: There’s booze in the poolhouse kitchen if you want anything. I’ll come out later.
Sometime mid-afternoon, I saw Ash’s truck leave on the security feed.
A short while later, I decided to head outside. Best to get it over with now, before anyone else showed up. I found Taylor, Xander and my sister drinking by the pool. They all turned to look when I stepped outside.
“Hey!” Xander swaggered over and greeted me with a hug. “When did you cut your hair?”
“Like a week ago.”
“Yourself?”
“Uh, this girl does house calls.”
If they found anything odd about that, I didn’t see it. Probably because I’d stopped looking for signs of those things years ago. My primary tactic for dealing with the people in my life, even the closest ones, was pretty much get in and get out as fast as possible.
“You look handsome!” my sister said. She looked drunk. She gave me a big, bright smile and hopped up to give me a kiss on the cheek.
Then she settled against Xander, who draped his tattooed arm around her shoulders. She was wearing a bikini, and I tried not to give him a dirty look, or any look. I supposed they were used to their togetherness by now. They sure seemed comfortable with it, even in front of me. They’d been together for almost a year, but for me, felt like it happened just last week. Maybe because I so rarely saw them.
That wasn’t their fault.
“Can I get you a drink?” Xander grinned at me. “It’s yours.”
I glanced at the booze they’d found in the poolhouse and piled onto the bar cart on the patio. But I wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough for a drink, so I just muttered something about needing to get back to work.
“You don’t want to swim? We’re just going back in,” my sister said.