Page 8 of All Your Firsts

With his dirty-blond hair casually tied up in a messy man bun and sporting sunglasses inside, he looks like he had a really tough night.

“Gage’s sister. Hands off.” Vic’s gruff voice fills the room as he speaks between reps.

I notice the new guy wince and give me a wide berth as he makes his way into the room.

Ugh.

This repetitive cycle has been the soundtrack of my life for as long as I can remember. I attract attention solely from men who belong to powerful families and possess a deranged mindset. The guys I’ve liked lose interest as soon as they uncover my true identity and my family’s notorious reputation. Needless to say, dating has been filled with disappointment and frustration.

I’ve had one boyfriend who lasted five seconds, and that was in middle school. Poor Cody only got half a dance in at the winter formal before my brother, Marco, punched him in the face for touching me. Blood sprayed everywhere. Both my pretty pink dress and my social life were ruined. It was awful. Since then, I’ve decided to save future Codys from my family’s wrath.

In my countless daydreams about running away, I often envisioned becoming a ghost, stumbling upon a charming, remote town where I’d escape the demands of my current life. I’d open an art studio, a place where I could share my passion for art through teaching and hosting exhibits. Maybe even find a tall, dark, and handsome type of guy who makes me laugh and takes me out on epic dates. It seems that won’t be happening here, or anytime soon.Thanks, Gage.

Midway through my downward dog stretch, a sudden weighty presence hovers above me. I move into a triangle pose like I don’t feel shit and tilt my head upward to make eye contact with Vic.

“Can I help you?”

“We have work in an hour.”

Sweat glistens on his abs in the light, captivating my attention and causing me to lose focus.

Did he say we have work?

“We?” I say, pointing between us.

“Be ready in forty minutes.”

“What will we be doing? I’ve never worked before.”

The thought of a job makes me giddy. Under my father’s roof, getting a job was out of the question, and it’s one of the many things I’m eager to cross off my list while I’m here.

He brushes past me without acknowledging my question, his footsteps echoing down the empty hallway.

“What a dick.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” The mystery guy chuckles from the treadmill as he runs.

Did I just say that out loud?

“I’m Axl, by the way,” he says as he pulls off his sunglasses and squints.

“Rosie,” I say with a small smile. “Electrolytes and toast.” Those seemed to be the go-to for everyone at my college.

“What?”

“For that gnarly hangover. Maybe a shower, too.”

“Thanks... I think.”

“Anytime.”

What world did I wake up in?

Vic drives us to work, the only sound being the hum of the engine. I’m completely unfazed by his lack of communication and brooding presence. It’s better than the piercing gaze he gave me last night or his playful comment this morning.

I plan on treating this as a business transaction, determined to convince him to release the reins and let me roam freely. Maybe I’ll even take over his guesthouse—after I disinfect it, of course.

The road during last night’s drive with Gage was shrouded in darkness, with only the faint glow of the moon illuminating it. In the daylight, I can admire the picturesque view of Lake Michigan on our right as we head down Main Street.

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