Chapter 34
Sienna's POV
I looked up. Ava stood there, holding out the cable with an easy smile. She'd dressed down today—athletic leggings, an oversized hoodie, a baseball cap pulled low, sunglasses perched on the brim. Clearly trying to fly under the radar.
"Thanks." I took the cable, nodding once. Turned to leave.
"Hey, wait." She didn't move to block me, but her voice carried enough warmth to make me pause. "Last time... I probably freaked you out, didn't I?"
I kept my expression neutral. "No."
She laughed softly, tilting her head. The motion was so similar to Hayes that it stung. "I forgot to introduce myself last time. I'm Ava Sterling. Hayes's sister." She paused. "I hope I didn't cause any misunderstanding between you two."
I turned to face her fully, my tone cooling by a degree. "You're overthinking it. Hayes and I are just business partners."
Ava didn't flinch at the frost in my voice. If anything, her expression softened. "But the way you look at him isn't the way other women look at him."
The words landed like a punch I didn't see coming.
Not aggressive. Not accusatory. Just... true.
I gripped the charging cable hard enough that the plastic casing bit into my palm. My throat tightened. After a long silence, I managed, "That was a long time ago."
Ava's gaze didn't waver. "If it was really that long ago, you wouldn't be trying so hard to prove it."
I didn't have a response to that.
Before I could think of one, I heard footsteps behind me.
Hayes.
He'd just come out of the locker room, his hair still damp from the shower, dressed in a clean training jacket and joggers. His eyes locked onto the two of us immediately, and his expression shifted—subtle, but I knew him well enough to catch it.
That slight tightening around his jaw. The way his shoulders squared.
He looked like he was worried about something beyond his control happening.
He crossed the space between us in a few long strides, his gaze flicking between me and Ava like he was trying to assess the damage.
"What are you two talking about?" His tone was carefully neutral, but his body language wasn't. He stood close enough to Ava to create a visual unit—my sister, my responsibility—but his eyes stayed on me.
Ava turned to him with an innocent smile, completely unbothered. "Oh, just chatting. But Hayes—" She paused, her tone turning lightly chiding. "—you didn't tell her I'm your sister. She thought I was your girlfriend the other morning."
Damn it. I didn't say that.
"That's not what I said," I blurted out.
Hayes's eyes cut to Ava with a warning look that she ignored entirely.
"I thought it was obvious," he said quietly.
"It wasn't," I said flatly, before he could say anything else. "But it's your private life. I don't need to know."
Ava raised an eyebrow, glancing at Hayes. "See? She's more distant than you are."
Hayes didn't respond. The muscle in his jaw ticked once.
Ava stretched, clearly preparing to leave. But before she walked away, she turned back, her eyes sparking with mischief.
"By the way, Sienna." She paused, letting the moment stretch. "My brother's been really well-behaved lately. Icing on schedule, skipping optional PR events, hasn't touched his favorite whiskey in days."
She smiled, bright and knowing. "Because you told him to rest and take care of that injury."
Then she clapped Hayes on the shoulder. "I'll leave you two to talk."
And just like that, she was gone.
---
The silence she left behind was suffocating.
I stood frozen, my pulse hammering in my ears.
He actually listened to me.
That shouldn't have mattered. It was basic medical advice. Anyone would've told him the same thing.
But the way Ava said it—like it meant something—made my chest tighten with panic.
No. No, I can't let this mean something. I can't let him think there's still a door open between us. That'll only make everything worse when it ends.
I grabbed my gear bag, slinging it over my shoulder too quickly. My hands were shaking.
"I need to go," I said, not looking at him.
"Sienna."
His voice was low. Careful. But there was an edge to it that made me stop.
I didn't turn around.
"You've been avoiding me."
It wasn't a question.
I forced myself to keep my tone even. "No, I haven't."
"You won't even look at me."
I did look then—finally—but only to deliver the line I'd been rehearsing for days. "Professionalism works better that way."
Hayes stared at me for a long moment. Then he laughed—short, humorless, the sound scraping against the quiet like sandpaper.
He took a step closer. Not enough to trap me, but enough that I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze.
"I don't like it."
Those four words hit harder than anything else he could've said.
Not you're being unprofessional. Not this isn't working.
Just: I don't like it.
My hands tightened on the strap of my bag. My mouth opened, then closed. I had a dozen responses lined up—it's better this way, we're not friends, this is how it has to be—but none of them made it past my throat.
Hayes held my gaze for another beat. Then he stepped back, giving me space.
But the weight of his words stayed between us, heavy and unmovable.
I turned and walked away before I could say something I'd regret.
Before I could admit that I didn't like it either.