Page 57 of Between the Lines

That house is really falling apart. But I can’t send her home in a few weeks without air-conditioning. I certainly can’t let Daisy sleep in a hot old house.

As I begin to type out a reply to Eddie, I glance out the back windows—windows I never bothered to get blinds for—and movement catches my eye by the pool.

I sit upright and stretch my neck to get a better view.

Fia sits on the edge, her long legs dipping into the water as she reclines, tilting her head up towards the dusky night sky. Her long curled hair brushes the concrete behind her, and I watch from the window as her chest rises with a deep inhale and she closes her eyes.

Her expression is unreadable. Maybe her visitor calmed her nerves, maybe he . . .

I shake my head, willing those thoughts away, and reply to Eddie.

Caden: I’ll call the HVAC guys in the morning. We’ll have them install a new unit ASAP. No need to bother Fia, I’ll handle it.

I flip on the patio lights, stepping into the backyard. The lights illuminate her face as she looks up at me. Her green eyes are wide, as if I’ve caught her, as if she thinks I’ll chase her out again. A baby monitor glows beside her thigh.

“Oh, hi,” Fia says, her voice husky and low as I step towards her.

Stopping at the edge of the pool across from her, I nod at the water. “Would it bother you if I swam? I don’t want to disturb your peace.”

I already showered and put on my comfortable clothes, but I’m not going back inside.

“It’s your house, your pool,” she remarks quietly.

In the outdoor shower, I quickly slip on my swim trunks that’re still hanging there from yesterday morning’s surf. Then in silence, I sink into the pool, letting the cool salt water wake me back up.

When I break the surface, I’m only feet from her, and her eyes trail my movement.

Her legs are still submerged, but she’s sitting more carefully than before, curled in on herself.

I’m afraid my conversation with Eddie is written all over my face. I don’t want to stress her out about it when there’s something else clearly weighing on her. The last thing I ever want is for her to think she’s a burden, so I’ll tell her about the AC unit another time, once it’s fixed.

I clear my throat, schooling my face. “By the way, you know you can have guests over, right? Overnight, or whatever. I meant it when I said I want you to feel at home here.”

Blush creeps from her neck to her cheeks. “Oh, I don’t plan to have guests over—”

“It’s okay, Fia. I saw the motorcycle in the driveway.”

Her brows furrow as she stares at me.

I let out a heavy breath. “You don’t have to hide having a boyfriend—”

Fia grimaces like she tasted something sour. “Oh no, no, no, no! That’s Jesse, my sister’s boyfriend.” She shakes her head. “Like I said before, he’s been in my life since I was little. He’s like a big brother to me.”

A big brother . . . That explains his familiarity with Daisy.

“Oh, got it.” I exhale a bit too obviously, trying to hide the fact that I feel like a possessive asshole for even assuming. “So he knows about this?” I ask, waving my hands towards the guesthouse.

Fia tucks loose hair behind her ears, twirling her feet in the water. “He does now.” She pauses. “He comes off rough, but he is just protective of me and Daisy. Don’t worry though, I made him promise not to say a word to anyone—”

“No,” I cut in sharply. “It was unreasonable of me to ask you to keep this a secret.” I stare a moment too long into the thick tree line behind the guesthouse. “It was more for my protection than yours.”

“Your protection?” She tilts her head.

I run my fingers through my wet hair and catch the way her eyes briefly trace the valleys of my chest.

“I was worried that if anyone found out that I was helping you, that you were living here, they might make something out of it more than it is.” My chest tightens. I fucking hate talking about this. “Unfortunately my family has made a name for themselves in this town. My dad has a notorious reputation for being a womanizer, and it’s a dark cloud in my life . . . I didn’t want anyone to—” I grapple with the right way to explain the complicated feelings stirring in me, ones I’ve barely let myself process since she’s moved into that guesthouse.

“To think you were like him?” She finishes.