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I snort, shaking my head. Corbin’s sister was a few years ahead of me in college. We’d crossed paths a few times, but were never close. Brynn is a mean girl, and I stayed far away from her in college. But that’s the way this world works. She was at the top of the social food chain in college while I gained looks from the others.
I’m working to change that though. Callum with his connections to Corbin, and me with my degree in architecture. I’ll be the face of environmentally healthy building practices, and with Corbin in my corner? I can make the changes universally in the country. Callum truly thinks Corbin has a shot at running for president next term.
Corbin chuckles. “You don’t get along with Brynn?” he asks, his hand to his heart.
“No! It’s not that. I just don’t think we’re as close as she made you think we are. I was a book nerd in school. There was no time for socializing.”
“I’m kidding, Saoirse. I know how my sister can be.”
“Sir? We’re here.” Hugh’s voice cuts in as he pulls into the driveway of a Colonial style home in Weston. We’re in one of the more expensive suburbs of Boston, which is going to be another twenty minute drive home to Back Bay, but I should be able to catch a snooze.
“Thank you, Hugh,” Corbin says. He’s turned toward me, cupping my face in his hands. “Get some rest when you get home, Saoirse. You look exhausted.”
Iamexhausted. For the last fifteen months, I have been running on fumes. I haven’t slept well since the day I saw Scotty lying in that bed, weak and vulnerable, with a hole in his chest. But I don’t say that out loud. Instead, I press my lips to his in a chaste kiss, then reach behind him to open the door.
My chest presses against his, and he lets out a low groan.
“Good night, Corbin. See you tomorrow,” I say, as he slides out of the car.
Chapter Four
Darkhairfallsintomy line of sight as Sean Murphy dips his head behind the manila folder I’ve just handed over. I turn my attention to the left of us, where he’s got video monitors lined against a wall of his office.
Scanning each one, I take in various sights. And if I didn’t know Sean—hadn’t seen him running around the neighborhood as a kid—I would peg him as a creepy stalker.
Each camera holds different angles and views of his own family members’ respective homes.
The views are external cameras, none of them actually inside of their homes. Still, it’s odd to have the feeds that are set to record for him actively playinglivewhile he works in his home office.
Though, I suppose I’m not any better than Sean.
I’ve been spying on Saoirse since the moment I was placed on her detail six years ago. Maybe more than I ever should have. The first week I arrived, I slipped an RFID into a piece of jewelry. I played it off as a friendly gift. A necklace with her initial. I didn’t feel the slightest bit fucking guilty about it, either, and I still don’t give a shit that to this day, I catch myself checking it multiple times a day.
It’s my dirty little secret.
I could lie and say that I’m embarrassed, or not proud of it. I could pretend like I don’t get hard thinking about her running away, that I never enjoyed watching her sneak out at night, only for me to find her and drag her back home with those pouty red lips in a scowl.
I may never admit it out loud, but I’m not ashamed that the deepest, darkest parts of me loved chasing her, finding her, schooling her at her very own game.
Is it considered cheating, tracking her without anyone knowing? Well, I don’t really give a fuck if it is. Because at the end of the day, knowing where she is keeps her safe.
My eyes fall to one home in particular. The brownstone in Back Bay that’s been empty for the last six months. As the camera turns, I catch a glimpse of the living room window, a light on. My heartbeat quickens, even just knowing that she’s in the same city as me again. But seeing the light on makes my body hum with electricity.
She’s safe in her home, and not out partying like she used to in those early college days. And that eases the tightness in my chest. I’ve made it clear that I don’t want more than a friendship with her. Yet, the thought of her out partying in a club with Hugh as her guard ignites unwelcomed emotions. Ones I shouldn’t be having for my boss’s sister.
My gaze holds on the outside of the front of her house, as if I can picture her in her living room reading a book. She’d be curled under an oversized blanket with the tips of her toes hanging out, knitted socks that go to her knees. Her vibrant red hair would be in her face, lips pursed as she reads her novel.
But all of that comes crashing down when I catch a man walking up her steps. He knocks on the door once, then steps back, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dress suit pants. This man is put together, manicured, wearing a fucking suit.
He’s not her type. She goes for the blue-collar boys. Ones who work eighty-hour weeks and only have time for a quick round in the sack, leaving before the sun rises.This man. The man knocking on her door is certainly not fucking that.
Saoirse opens the door, a smile breaking on her face. Stepping onto her porch, she locks up, then turns and presses a kiss to his cheek. My skin prickles with dread. Does this mean she’s seeing him? Like she’s actually about to go on a date with this man, and where the fuck is Hugh?
“Earth to fucking Scotty.” Sean snaps a finger in my face.
I shake my head, turning toward him, my mouth wide open in shock. “Who was that?” I ask.
Sean turns toward the screens, glancing at each one until he finds the one I was watching. His lips curve upward, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s Corbin McClellan.”
