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in our neighborhood by now after our early hot yoga session and organic coffee, but I guess sacrificing one Saturday in the spirit of keeping this fake marriage up won’t kill me. However, I made a promise to myself that I won’t forego the things that are important to me just because I’m in the situation that I’m in. I’m not going to let living with Hayes alter my schedule, my priorities, and the things I enjoy because those are the only aspects I have to cling to amidst all the other changes suddenly happening in my life.

As I pull up Hayes’s street, I’m taken aback by the beauty of the homes surrounding his and the neighborhood he chose to buy a house in. I always imagined Hayes living in some modern penthouse bachelor apartment, taking up an entire floor of a high-rise building smack dab in the middle of Los Angeles since he seems like the type to always want to be the center of attention. So pulling up to the sprawling family home in the gated community in Santa Monica he gave me the access code to, my heart starts pumping even harder as yet another morsel of the man I thought I knew is revealing itself and leaving me more than surprised.

The bright white wooden paneling arranged in a rectangular geometric pattern catches me off-guard at first, especially because the charcoal tile roof on the house makes it look pristine against the bright green lawn. There are matching white columns with lamps lining the yard except for the entrance to his driveway. The left side of the house while facing it from the street is shaped in a cylindrical tower with windows spanning each flat edge of the structure, and two tall columns frame the front door that matches the tile and garage door in contrasting color.

There are so many windows, so many details, and all I can think is that this house is gorgeous, and the complete opposite of what I’d expect Hayes to live in.

I park along the street, hoping the moving truck pulls into the driveway to make unloading my things easier. Thankfully, the driver takes the hint and hops out once he parks. I grab my purse from the front seat of my Tesla, lock the car, and walk up the sidewalk that leads straight to the front door from the street.

With a few knocks on the door, I stand there anxiously waiting for Hayes to answer, admiring the planters filled with pink flowers on either side of the door. I told him nine, and we’re just a few minutes early, but I can’t imagine him not being home when he knows I’m arriving this morning.

After a few moments, I hear the turn of locks in the door and then Hayes is pulling the large barricade open, revealing himself dressed in a black tank-top, red mesh shorts, and wet hair atop his head. He must have just gotten out of the shower before we arrived, and I hate that his scent hits my nose, forcing me to breathe deeply on instinct to take it in.

The bulges of muscle in his arms along with the veins running up his forearms only remind me of the other muscles he’s hiding under his shirt, the full view of his physique I caught a glimpse of in Vegas burned into my memory for all eternity. And the smug smile on his face only enhances the strong line of his jaw, his plump lips, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes I guess I’m a big fan of since I tend to fixate on them each time I see him.

“Good morning, Wifey.” He grins playfully at me, which instantly snaps me back to reality.

“Hello there, hubby. Are you going to invite me in?” I ask, playing into his game.

“Of course.” He steps to the side, allowing me to pass by him, and I’m embarrassed by how fast my jaw drops.

If I thought the outside of this house was gorgeous, the inside is absolutely stunning, something I can appreciate as an interior design buff myself.

“Your house is…amazing, Hayes. Not what I was expecting at all.” I follow him down the hallway, past a formal living room to our left, a staircase to our right, and into an open concept living room to my right, kitchen on the left, and dining room tucked beyond the kitchen with the largest picture window slider I’ve ever seen in my life right in front of me.

“What were you expecting, Beaverly? Something dark and dingy?” He arches a brow at me as he rounds the island in the kitchen and picks up his coffee cup.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I was trying to give you a compliment, Hayes, but if you must know, yes. I didn’t peg you for the bright and airy guy.”

“I’m full of surprises, Beaverly. Just wait.”

“You’re really going to start with that this early on?”

The corner of his lips turns up in a pleased smirk. “This is just the beginning, sweetheart.” He tips back the rest of his coffee and places the cup in the sink. Alright, at least we know he isn’t a total slob in the kitchen. “Are you ready to see your room?”

“My room?”

“Yes,” he says, stepping around me and heading for the staircase. “You didn’t think we’d be sleeping together, did you? Unless you’re willing to put aside the no-sex rule you instilled on the way home from Vegas? Then I’m all for sharing a bed with you.”

I follow him up the stairs, attempting to avoid staring directly at his tight ass in his shorts. God, why does his body have to be so freaking strong and toned?

“Over my dead body, Hayes.”

“Well, we can’t have any murdering going on in this house, Wave. As you can see, too much white. It would be a bitch to clean up.”

“Then stop calling me Beaverly and show me where I’ll be sleeping.”

He chuckles and then leads

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