Pretty Little Mistake

I’ve always felt a particular kind of comfort in the water.

I suppose that’s why I find myself in the apartment’s pool doing laps at a ridiculously late hour. I’m not nearly as pissed off as I was this morning, when I learned that Lennon had gone to Jaci to bitch about me, but I am still frustrated at the whole convoluted situation. I know it’s my fault, not hers, and I have to accept responsibility. I haven’t given her any indication that I’ll be easy to work with. If I were in her position, I would’ve done the same thing. She certainly doesn’t owe me any sort of loyalty, and I haven’t acted like I want it. So why does it feel like she’s betrayed me in some way? I can’t wrap my head around how I feel. I thought I was over her, that I’d moved past that part of my life, but clearly, I didn’t resolve things as easily as I believed.

Why, of all the places in the entire world she could end up, did she have to get hired at the same place I work? It feels like the universe is mocking me.

Back in the day, Lennon Wells was the girl of my dreams.

She was smart, with a sassy tongue, and the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.

There was one big problem, though: she was my best friend’s little sister.

All it took was one night to lose them both. I went off to college and never looked back. I couldn’t. There was nothing left for me there.

Never in a million years did I expect to have Lennon Wells shoved in my face during business hours five days a week.

I must’ve really pissed someone off in a past life to deserve this.

My thoughts begin to spiral as I wonder what she thinks of all this. What were her immediate thoughts when she saw me again for the first time? Maybe she was happy to see me, and I shat all over that?

I’ve been selfish, not even stopping for a moment to consider her feelings in all this.

I let my anger over the past overshadow actually being a decent human being.

Fuck, I’ve done enough in this life to deserve this punishment, but damn if I don’t wish the universe would cut me some slack.

Another three laps in the pool and my body can’t take any more, which means I should have no problem passing out the moment my head hits the pillow.

Forgoing the stairs, I heft my body out of the water and grab my towel off the chaise I tossed it on earlier. After drying my torso, I secure the towel around my waist.

Upstairs in my apartment, Cheddar meows angrily at being abandoned shortly after I got home. He meanders through my legs, yowling as loudly as possible.

“Sorry, bud.” I grab his treat bag off the counter and give him two. That seems to appease him.

After a quick shower, I make myself a sandwich, then scarf it down like I haven’t eaten all day. Which, come to think of it, I haven’t, except for breakfast this morning. After being reprimanded by Jaci for being unwelcoming to Lennon and not demonstrating team-player qualities, it never crossed my mind.

Cheddar’s extra-fluffy paws pad against the floor behind me, following me to the bedroom.

The first night I had him, I steadfastly told him that he would never, under any circumstances, sleep in my bed.

No one ever warned me that one simply does not tell a cat what they can and can’t do. He’s the boss and I go along with it, which means he sleeps in the bed like a spoiled prince. I guess the old guy deserves it.

I lift him up on the bed before he can start yelling at me for that, then grab the remote to turn the TV on.

Climbing into bed, I swear my whole body does a sigh of relief. I definitely pushed it too hard in the pool tonight, but I can’t bring myself to care. That’s a regret that tomorrow’s Beckham will have to deal with.

Even though my body is at the brink of exhaustion and it’s way past the hour when I’d normally go to sleep, my mind won’t shut up. I’m thinking about Lennon when I shouldn’t be.

Her face appears in my mind, but instead of her womanly appearance of today, it’s the teenage Lennon I see. Her face was a tad rounder, her eyes just as dark and slightly slanted, lips round and full but smiling, not the permanent half frown she seems to wear now. Back then she looked at me with such adoring trust, like I walked on water, and I never took that for granted. Her brother, Hunter, was my best friend, but Lennon was special. I adored her in a way I never had another person. I loved her, wanted to protect and cherish her, but it wasn’t my place, and Hunter wasted no time in reminding me of that.

I was a Sullivan in name only, and Lennon Wells shouldn’t have been sullied by a no-name bastard.

Brown eyes dart up to meet mine with suspicion and surprise as I release the cup of coffee I’ve set down beside her.

I cluck my tongue. “Don’t read into it. I got coffee for everyone.”

A snarl forms on her lips, and I know there’s a sassy retort at the ready on her tongue. “Shh,” I hush, pressing a finger to her mouth. A spark zips from the pillowy-soft feel of her lips to my finger and all the way up my arm before it fizzles out. “Just say thank you.” I let my finger fall away, shaking off the strange, electric feeling.

Steam practically rushes out of her ears. I move away before she can say anything.

Not that I wouldn’t love to spar with her, but now’s not the time, not when Jaci is already perturbed with me. I spare a glance behind me, in time to see her trembling fingers hesitantly touch her mouth, where my finger was only moments ago.

A smile curves my lips. Almost instantly I wipe it away, silently cursing myself. Why the fuck am I smiling over this? I shouldn’t be happy that she obviously felt the same as I did.

I finish handing out the coffees I picked up this morning before sequestering myself in my office. There’s an endless task list waiting for me. I’m behind on my photo editing, and on top of that, I need to get some proposal layouts to Jaci today for this month’s magazine so we can begin fine-tuning things.

I’ve been at it a few hours when I sense a presence in the doorway.

I want to ignore her in the hopes that she’ll go away, but it’s as if something else is controlling me. There’s a need to look at her, acknowledge her presence. It’s the same feeling I had as a boy. I called Lennon a honeybee, and to me that’s what she was, but I never told her the rest, that I was the flower dependent on her for survival.

Sure enough, I look up from my computer to find her hovering there like she’s not sure whether she should stay or flee.

I arch a brow, giving a gruff, “What?”

“I wondered if you’ve gotten anything from Jessica. From what Jaci said we should have an email by now, but I don’t.” She inhales a shaky breath. “I thought I’d check with you before I—”

“Before you what? Asked Jessica? She’s the one sending it—wouldn’t the logical conclusion have been to speak with her first?”

She rolls her eyes with a huff. “Forget I asked.”

Why do I do this? Why am I constantly pushing her away?

It’s like I have this need to self-sabotage myself when it comes to her. It’s easier to make her hate me than to show her the scarred man I am beneath all the layers I’ve built around myself.

She turns to leave. I sigh out an agitated plea: “Wait.”

She hesitates. Her feet shuffle nervously. I don’t think she’s even aware that she’s doing it. Nails tapping lightly against the side of her gray skirt, she waits for me to speak.

“No, I haven’t gotten anything either. I emailed Jessica this morning, and she said she was still working on it. I figure we’ll hear from her soon, possibly after lunch.”

She nods. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Don’t push your luck, Lennon.”

When she leaves, I can’t help but watch her go. Not only because the view is nice but for the mere fact that, despite my better judgment, I’m fucking helpless not to.

Sure enough, after lunch I get an email from Jaci’s assistant with all the information we need. Even though Lennon is cc’d on it, I still can’t help myself from being a smart-ass and forwarding it to her with one line: Here’s that itinerary you so desperately needed.—B

She responds right back through our team’s instant messaging system.

Lennon_Wells: The lengths you’ll go to, to be a smart-ass.

Beckham_Sullivan: Careful, L. The boss can read all messaging correspondence.

Lennon_Wells: Good. Maybe she’ll realize what a jerk you are.

Beckham_Sullivan: You’re the only one who seems to think so.

Lennon_Wells: Does that mean you’re only this pretentious prick with me? I’d say I’m honored but I’m not.

Stupidly I find myself smiling. I rub my hand over my lips, trying to get rid of it.

Beckham_Sullivan: Give me your address.

Lennon_Wells: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Firstly, WHY? Secondly, NO.

Beckham_Sullivan: Because I’ll pick you up for our flight.

Lennon_Wells: Ew. No.

Beckham_Sullivan: Ew? Are we five?

Lennon_Wells: I’m not but you are.

Beckham_Sullivan: Real mature. Give me your address. I have a car, I can easily pick you up.

Lennon_Wells: I said no.

This woman is the most infuriating human being I’ve ever had the displeasure of dealing with. I rub my jaw in an ongoing attempt not to smile.

Beckham_Sullivan: Even you have to admit it’s silly for us to arrive separately. We’re going to be together the whole trip anyway.

Lennon_Wells: Exactly—I’ll use the time in the taxi BY MYSELF to prepare for being stuck with you.

Beckham_Sullivan: You’re impossible.

Lennon_Wells: So are you. Besides, like you’ve already pointed out, you don’t know where I live, so picking me up might be completely out of your way.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. How the fuck am I going to survive an entire weekend with this woman? She pushes all my buttons like no one else can.

Beckham_Sullivan: Fine. I’ll meet you at the gate then.

Lennon_Wells: Good. See how much easier it is when you see things my way?

I don’t respond; I just exit the chat and say a silent prayer that I make it out of this trip unscathed.