“You followed me again?”
“Not this time. If it makes you feel better, it took us a while to catch on.”
Awhile? It took almost a year and a half. That’s not a while.
“I’m guessing you started again when you bought that cocktail bar in Pomona, right?”
“A little earlier,” I admit. Playing dumb won’t save me. They wouldn’t be here, suggesting Express Dates, if they didn’t have leverage. Interestingly, they kept my secret safe instead of ratting me out to the whole family.
“Told you,” Conor pokes Cody’s ribs before setting the second beer bottle beside my half-empty one.
I guess a taxi it is.
“What gave me away?”
“Your mood.” Conor opens the fridge again, fetching a fruit bowl my maid prepared for my midnight snack. “You were throwing hissy fits every day after you left the hospital, and then suddenly, you were just... calm. Composed. At first, we thought you met someone. I mean, we thought you were smart, so we didn’t think you’d be racing again after you almost fucking died. But weeks turned to months and with no girl in sight we scrapped that idea.”
With a defeated sigh, I finish beer number one, clutching the second cold bottle with both hands. The lack of someone significant in my life, that one special person, might be why I ended up clinically dead for over four minutes.
My brothers have been building their families for years. It took a toll on me, the odd one out. The only single brother out of seven, always alone at family gatherings, always alone at home, always missingsomething.
Cody’s right. I work like a robot. Always have. Racing is my time-out from that and the loneliness that increases with every Hayes who goes down on one knee.
Before the accident, I still believed my time would come. Even though it was taking longer than I hoped, I thought one day love would just happen for me on its fucking own.
Everything changed the night of the crash.
Once I was discharged from the hospital, I spent six months in physiotherapy, growing ever more desperate with each passing day.
Once back on my feet, I signed up for every available dating website and went on countless dates, sometimes juggling three or four in a single evening, but nothing ever stuck.
After a year of disappointment, I called it quits.
Maybe I’m destined to be a forever bachelor.
“I assume this is the part where you lay down your demands,” I probe, even though I know the answer. “My participation in exchange for your silence, correct?”
“Sounds like blackmail, doesn’t it?” Conor bounces his eyebrows. “Be glad we kept our mouths shut. You’d be one sorry motherfucker if the others found out you’re racing.”
“Don’t worry, though,” Cody coos, treating me with the same sweet, coy voice he uses on our two nieces. “We have your back, as always.” He clears his throat, rising from the stool as he confirms, “Express Dates in exchange for silence.”
“One evening?” I ask, ensuring there aren’t any loopholes they can hang me with later.
Not that I have any say in the matter. They fucking own me and know damn well I’ll do whatever they say as long as they keep my extracurricular activities a secret.
“Yeah... that would be ano.” Conor huffs a laugh. “I mean, if you find the love of your life tonight, then sure, one evening. Otherwise we’ll keep requesting your precious time until the right girl materializes on your path.”
“You can’t manipulate feelings, Conor. Of all people, you should know best that shit like that doesn’t happen on schedule.”
Cody bobs his head with a solemn look. “You’re right. The Cupid acts in mysterious ways, but he sure as hell can’t work if you’re stuck in your office or at home all the livelong day. You won’t meet your future wife in your fucking kitchen.”
“What makes you think I even want a wife?” I ask, watching them share another loaded look. “Never mind.”
They helped me set up my dating profiles, then listened to me vent about the women I met and discarded along the way. They know I want a wife and my own baby-making factory. How could I not? With six brothers enjoying their happily ever after, it’s hard not to believe in the institution.
Conor quickly checks his phone, probably worried he missed a message from his Little Bee. I’m surprised he took time off fussing over his twins. He hardly ever leaves the house without them.
Cody’s yet to become a dad, but his presence is still surprising. He’s so fucking whipped it makes me nauseous.
