Chapter Four
Wyatt
There were many things that I found daunting in this world. Like a public shower, dirty fingerprints on a mirror, muddy footprints on my tiles, or people who park outside the lines – which was more infuriating than anything else – but none of those things came close to the daunting feeling that crashed over me as when I stepped up to my parents’ front door.
Their house on Star Island was, in my opinion, the best piece of real estate in Miami Beach, and it wasn't just because I grew up there. It was a gorgeous house right on the water and had gorgeous views of the Bay. It wasn't a long drive from my own home, and of course, my parents took full advantage of this. Like today.
They invited me and Calvin for dinner tonight, and I could already guess what the topic of conversation would be. In fact, anyone in Miami could guess, and they’d be right.
I inhaled sharply through my nose and unlocked the front door by entering a code on the keypad to my left. Normal people had a doorbell. They had a passcode protected keypad that controlled the locking mechanism of the door.
My mother and Father had an open door policy in their house, and Calvin and I could come and go as we pleased, or at least that was what my parents wanted. They lived alone in this massive house, and they started to feel a bit lonely after both Calvin and I moved out. They encouraged us to visit as often as we liked, but it turned out that running a company kept us way too busy to visit ‘as often as we wanted to’.
I stepped in through the front doors and my parents sat comfortably on the couches in the living area in front of me.
My mother jumped up out of excitement as if she hadn't seen me for a year and walked up to me holding her arms out.
I know that she’s my mother, but I am not really a hugger. She didn't care obviously, and the more I squirmed and complained, the tighter and longer she held me. I wouldn't, of course, let anyone else hug me like that, so my mother had to count herself as very lucky.
“Oh, Wyatt. It’s so great to have you here. It feels like forever since the last time I saw you,” she said with a smile and touched my chin.
“You saw me last week.”
“Like I said, forever.”
I shook my head and glanced at my father. He wasn't the affectionate type, but he greeted me with a formal handshake.
“Dad.”
“Son, nice of you to join us.”
“It’s only a pleasure, Dad.”
“You look so handsome, honey,” my mother said with a smile.
“Isn't it a bit early to have a drink, Mom?”
“It’s never too early, you know that,” she answered with a wink and chuckled happily. “Calvin isn't here yet, but if you’re hungry...”
“I don't mind. We can wait for him,” I answered with a shrug.
“Come sit,” my mother practically dragged me to the white couches and I sat down with them.
“How is work, son?” my father asked me.
“It’s going well, we’ve been very busy, which we’re not complaining about.”
“Of course not. Busy is the way to go.”
“We’ve had a few speed bumps with the legal department, but luckily it was cleared up within 2 days, and everything is fine now.”
“That’s good to hear.”
At that moment, the door opened and Calvin walked through the door.
“Nice of you to show up,” my father retorted.
“You should know by now that I am always late,” he said with a wink and looked at me. “Wyatt.”
“Calvin.”
“So what did I miss?” he asked as he sat down on the single couch beside my mother.
“Your father was just asking about work,” our mother said.
“Did you tell them about the remodeling?” Calvin asked.
“You’re remodeling?” my father asked with a surprised tone.
“Yes. The office needs a bit of a change,” I answered.
Both my parents glanced at me in sheer disbelief and I pursed my lips.
“You decided to have everything remodeled?”
“Yes.”
“Are you feeling alright, son?”
“Very funny, Dad,” I said as I rolled my eyes.
“What on Earth prompted this?”
“I figured that if we updated our offices, it might positively influence the staff to be more productive, give the clients a sense of ease doing business with us and -”
“And did he mention that the interior decorator is a total babe?”
“A woman, right?”
“Of course, Mother,” Calvin rolled his eyes.
“It wasn't on purpose,” I muttered.
“So you agree, that she is a total babe?” Calvin asked me.
“Calvin,” I said and shook my head.
“Oh, right. I remembered your words. You think that she is beautiful.”
He was right, I did say that, but that was until she became my decorator. It shouldn't change the fact that she was beautiful, but it would be completely unprofessional and very inappropriate if I referred to her like that. Even Calvin calling her a ‘total babe’ was more than enough to get him a meeting with Human Resources.
“What does she look like?”
“Long brown hair, brown eyes, five foot four, slender built. She has a dimple on her right cheek, and...” I knew I had said too much when my parent looked at me with strange glances. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was definitely a mixture of disbelief, excitement, and relief. As if it was strange that I could describe a woman I barely knew with such detail. They forgot that I paid attention to little details, however, and would immediately come to the conclusion that I had a crush on Miss Morris.
“So what’s her name?” my father asked.
“MacKenzie Morris,” I answered simply.
“Wyatt went on a date with her a few weeks back,” Calvin said.
I swear to God I could strangle him right there, but there were too many witnesses. Instead, I just lowered my gaze and shook my head.
“You went on a date with her?”
“Calvin was the one who bullied me into it, okay. I didn't want to go in the first place, because I hate it when any of you try to set me up with random people who I have nothing in common with, or have no intention of dating, or seeing them ever again.”
My parents were silent for a few seconds and glanced at one another.
“How did it go?” my mother asked, unable to contain her excitement.
I shook my head again and sighed. “It was weird, and then when I thought it was going okay, it went bad, and I don't want to talk about this anymore.”
“Did you tell her about your OCD?” my father asked.
“No, I didn’t.”
“I kind of did.”
I turned to my brother and I started to see red. “You did what?”
“I spoke to her in the elevator on the way out and she told me that I needed to cut you some slack.”
“Then you told her about my OCD? How is that even related?”
“What did she say?” my father asked.
I sighed and shook my head. “I don't even want to know. She probably thinks that I am some kind of weirdo with a mental condition who-”
“She doesn't care.”
“What?” my mother, my father and I asked in unison.
“She said it didn't bother her.”
“That’s impossible. It bothers everyone.”
“Clearly not her.”
“Okay, wait a minute. What exactly did she say to you?”
“I asked her if it didn't bother her, and she asked why would it?”
“Okay.”
“I told her because you drive everyone around you crazy,” Calvin answered and looked at me. “No offense.”
“It’s true thought,” my mother muttered and when I looked at her with narrowed eyes, she shot an apologetic look my way.
“What did she say in response?”
“That she was already crazy, so it was okay.”
I pursed my lips and looked at Calvin with a frown. “She said that?”
“Yes.”
“Exactly those words?”
“Yes,” he repeated.
“It doesn’t bother her.”
“Does she also have OCD?” my mother asked.
“I highly doubt it. She’s very meticulous in her work, but she does not strike me as the OCD type,” I answered.
“And what made you come to that conclusion?” my mother asked me.
“Have you been reading your mother’s psychology books again, son?” my father asked me.
“No, I haven’t,” I answered and looked at my father. “When I traveled to Atlanta, I sat next to her on the plane.”
“So you met her before you went on a date with her?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the strangest coincidence I have ever heard of.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered. “Anyway, I ordered a coffee and they didn't have hot milk. I expressed my distaste towards the air hostess-”
“In other words, he yelled at her and made a scene,” Calvin pointed out.
“Anyway, she actually had the guts to take me on about what difference would it make whether the milk was hot or cold.”
“To normal people, there is no difference.”
“Thank you, Mother,” I said with a forced smile. “Anyway, she put in her earphones and turned her music on.”
“I still don't understand.”
“No-one who has OCD listens to Indie Rock.”
“So, she’s a hippie?” my mother asked.
“Definitely one of the hottest hippies I’ve ever seen,” Calvin said.
“Can we please talk about something else?” I practically begged.
“Are you going to ask her out again, Wyatt?” my mother asked hopefully.
I sighed and knew this conversation needed to head in a different direction, so I said, “Kenzie and I walked in on Calvin having sex in his office.”
“What?”
Within an instant, the attention was entirely off of me as my parents stared at Calvin in horror.
“Wyatt!” my brother said through gritted teeth.
“Excuse me while you tell them all about it, brother,” I smirked as I stood up and headed towards the wine cellar. After that interrogation, I definitely needed a glass of wine. Possibly something stronger.
“He who betrays always walks alone, Wyatt!” Calvin called out to me, but instead of feeling guilty for ratting out my brother to my parents, I felt oddly liberated.
Calvin spent hours explaining, or at least trying to explain the entire situation, but needless to say, it didn't go very well. Dinner was quiet, with my parents shooting the odd glance of disapproval towards Calvin.
“Wyatt, I read something online about the positive effects of yoga on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, as well as people with anxiety,” my mother said suddenly.
As a psychologist, specializing in behavioral therapy, she constantly tried to persuade me to try different things that would ease my obsessive compulsions, like yoga, or meditation. She even suggested that I moved in with them so that she could monitor me for a case study. I knew she was only trying to help, but I was managing on my own. My lifestyle didn't always seem ideal to other people, but it worked for me. I wasn't against yoga or anyone that enjoyed it, but I couldn't see myself doing that, and be relaxed at the same time.
I glanced at her with a frown. “Yoga?” I asked, just to confirm that I wasn't losing my mind and having auditory hallucinations.
“Yes. The calming atmosphere, the endorphins that are released as you stretch and breathe.”
“The treadmill also does its job, Mother.”
“But just imagine how relaxed you’ll be-”
“Really, Mother. I am fine on the treadmill.”
“I’m surprised you joined a gym in the first place. You have a perfectly good one at home, or you could even use ours.”
“I don't use it as much as I would like to, but you’re welcome to use the treadmill here,” my father suggested.
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Has it ever occurred to you that I like going to a public gym?” I asked.
“No,” my parents answered.
“Not at all.”
“You hate places like that.”
“At the risk of sounding like a stalker, I like watching people, and how they interact with each other. Sometimes it’s quite pathetic actually, but interesting nonetheless. Obviously, I won’t do any interacting.”
“Right, and I’m the weirdo,” Calvin muttered.
“You had sex with a strange woman in your office and Miss Morris and I walked in on you. Your door wasn't even locked,” I pointed out.
“You always knock!”
“Boys, settle down,” my mother said firmly and we shut our mouths immediately.
Our mother was a short petite woman who didn't seem like she could hurt a fly, but when she spoke, we listened. Even now that we were adults, if she told us to be quiet, we’d shut up immediately. When she asked us to do something, we did it as quick as we could, no hesitations.
“Apologies, Mother,” I said to her.
“Can we not have one nice and pleasant meal without discussing Calvin’s shenanigans at work?”
“Sorry, Mom,” Calvin muttered.
“I still can’t believe you are redecorating the office, Wyatt,” my father said and he glanced at me from across the table. “It makes me rather proud.”
“I’m feeling positive about it, Dad.”
“Until the first speck of dust falls on the floor; you’ll be running around like a headless chicken the way you always do,” Calvin said with a wicked chuckle.
“Calvin,” my mother warned.
“I’m not making fun of him, Mom, it’s the truth.”
I placed my cutlery down on my plate and turned to him. “Have you ever stopped to think that it might be hard for me, Calvin?”
“Not really,” he muttered, looking slightly bewildered.
“Of course you didn't, because you only think about yourself,” I said and glanced at my mother. “I have to go. Thank you for the lovely meal.”
I stood up, and my mother stood up as well. She followed me as I left the dining room and as I approached the front door, she grabbed my arm.
“Honey, you don't have to leave.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m just getting a bit tired of Calvin’s stupid comments all the time.”
“He doesn't know what it’s like for you-”
“Yet he doesn't try to understand what it feels like, or what it’s like to be me.”
She reached up and touched my chin. “I love you very much, Wyatt.”
I smiled slightly and put my arms around her. “I love you too, Mom.”
She pulled out of my embrace and looked up at me. “Thank you for coming, even if it was just for a while.”
“Maybe next time you don't have to invite Calvin.”
“That’s definitely something to consider,” she whispered and winked at me. “But don't tell your father.”
I smiled at her and she chuckled.
“I have to go. I have to get some work done.”
“Don’t work too hard.”
“It’s what I do,” I shrugged and opened the front door.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“I’ll be okay.”
I didn't really have a choice.
Kenzie
I was dying!
Okay, not exactly, but it felt like it.
The sweat literally ran down my back as Sophia and I ran at a rather challenging pace on the two treadmills at the gym. We hadn’t been there in about two weeks, and I definitely felt it. My muscles were on fire and I felt like an Olympic torch.
“Don’t tell me you’re already tired, Kenz.”
“Not tired, just dying,” I panted.
She laughed out loud and honestly, I didn't know where she got the strength from to laugh I didn't even have the strength to breathe.
“How much longer?” I asked, the desperation eminent in my voice.
“You can stop if you want,” she said.
I silently thanked her and set the speed slower on the control panel. My pace also slowed down until I was just walking at a relaxed tempo and grabbed my towel that hung over the handles in front of me. I wiped my face and shook my head. I wasn't sure whether it was meant for myself or meant for Sophia who dragged me down here. We had been slacking off, but it was solely my fault. Ever since my initial meeting with Wyatt, I had been working too hard to even think about coming to the gym. It was nice to unwind and hit the treadmills with Sophia, but this was torture.
“I swear I am never missing gym again, ever. It doesn't matter how busy I am, please don’t let me miss one single day again. I don't ever want to feel the way I am feeling right now,” I said to her.
The treadmill eventually came to a stop and I let out a relieved breath as I stepped off it.
“Now, doesn't that feel good?” Sophia asked.
“As soon as I am able to feel, I’ll let you know,” I answered breathlessly and wiped my face again.
I had to admit, despite my dramatic tendencies, I felt rather good, even proud of myself for enduring the treadmill for as long as I did. I took a drink from my water bottle and looked around the gym. As expected, everyone else was doing their own thing.
I heard Sophia’s treadmill slow down and looked at her. She was one of those people who looked good even after a ten-mile run. Her skin glowed and she looked refreshed, not flushed and sweat dripping from every pore in my body like I was. We walked to the locker rooms and took a quick shower. I would have waited until I got home to shower, but I could smell myself quite prominently.
My hair was still wet when Sophia and I left the locker room and as we reached the front doors opened and Wyatt walked through the doors.
I was a bit shocked to see him here but smiled regardless.
He smiled uncomfortably when he saw me, but greeted me politely. “Hello.”
“Hey,” I reciprocated. I had to admit, seeing Wyatt not dressed in his usual formal suit was refreshing. The sweatpants and the hoodie he wore almost made him look like a normal person. Even his hair wasn’t styled to perfection and he looked incredibly hot, like he had just woken up, or something. I liked it.
I heard Sophia clear her throat and I turned to her. “Soph, this is Mr. Pearce.”
“Sophia, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she smiled. “Wait, you’re Mr. Pearce, owner of Pearce Data Storers?”
“Co-owner,” he corrected her.
“Right. Kenz is redoing your offices.”
“She is, and she’s doing a great job as well.”
I laughed nervously and glanced at him. “This is the last place I’d expect you to be.”
“I’m just here for the treadmill.”
“So were we, but Kenz only made it until seven miles.”
“It’s been a while, okay. I’ve been working a lot,” I muttered and ran my fingers through my damp hair.
“That might be my fault,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“It’s fine,” I shrugged.
“I can’t really stay to chat, but I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Sure,” I said with a nod and he walked passed us.
I bit my bottom lip as Sophia and I left the gym and stepped out onto the curb outside.
She looked at me expectantly when I didn't say anything for a bit.
“What?” I asked her.
“That’s Wyatt Pearce?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“He is so hot.”
I scoffed slightly and shrugged my shoulders.
Of course, I thought he was hot, but I wasn't going to let Sophia know that I thought so. It would be awkward, and wildly inappropriate.
“It’s a pity he’s such an asshole. I could have totally handled going out with him.”
“You could have asked him.”
For a brief moment there was a look on Sophia’s face that she considered it, but then that expression was gone and she shook her head. “No, it’s not worth the effort. He’s hot and ridiculously rich, but no. I can't deal with people who are assholes.”
“You and me both.”
“How do you work with him?”
“We’re both professionals, and that’s the way we keep it. We don't talk about anything else except the remodel,” I said.
“And his brother?”
“What about him?”
“Is he as hot as Wyatt?”
I had to be careful in answering this question. If I said no, she would know that I thought Wyatt was hot, but if I said yes, she might think that I was into Calvin and she might really consider asking Wyatt out. But why would that make any difference to me? If she wanted to date Wyatt, she could.
I shrugged and shook my head. “I can't really say. I don't look at them that way?”
“Come on, you’ve always been the one who appreciated a hot guy, regardless if it was considered professional.”
“But I only do that in such a way that no-one notices.”
“So they’re both equally hot?”
“It depends on what you’re into, Soph. Calvin is younger, he’s my age, I think. He’s the fun one, he makes jokes and he’s secure about himself. Wyatt is a lot older and very serious, and just complicated. They’re each hot in their own way.”
Sophia raised her eyebrows and looked at me.
“What? You asked.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“And what is that?”
“That you wished you were me.”
“Totally. You’re so lucky.”
We walked to Sophia’s car and she climbed in.
“Where are you parked?”
“Around the corner,” I told her.
“You’re going straight home right?”
“Where else would I go?”
“Back in there, for round two on the treadmill with Wyatt,” she answered with a pout.
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I wonder if he runs with his shirt off,” she sighed.
“I doubt that,” I said and turned away.
“Are you going in to check?” she asked with a chuckle.
“I work with him, Soph, and besides, he is not my type.”
“But you always date assholes.”
That was true.
“I wonder what he looks like without his shirt on.”
“I’ll see you later?” I tried to change the subject and she looked at me with a pout.
“Yes, and dress pretty.”
“Bye, Soph.”
I waved at her as she drove off and as I turned to walk to my car, I glanced back at the doors of the gym. I couldn't help myself but wonder what he would look like without a shirt on, but I shook my head in disapproval and tried my hardest to stop thinking about a shirtless Wyatt. Instead, I mentally scanned my closet, trying to figure out which outfit would be the prettiest to wear tonight.
Sophia found a pool hall that has a real life, working jukebox with all the classic songs on it, and that’s where we were headed tonight. I had worked damn hard this entire week, so I deserved a night out. We had even decided to get a taxi, so neither one of us would have to drive, which was awesome.
I unlocked my car, climbed inside and drove home.