Anyway, one step of whatever Jameson had helped her out with also required her to learn about the workings of upper society just like I need to, so she did it as a favor to him. I quickly came to understand if Jameson trusted her then I could too. We grew close. She became someone I could vent my frustrations to. I missed my family and it was hard to adapt to living without seeing or talking to them every day. She had no one, having lost everyone close to her, so she could definitely empathize. Her presence served as a reminder of what strength looked like. Joss was beautiful, but she was broken. Much worse-for-the-wear than my own circumstances.
I’ll never forget the day she came filing into Jameson’s apartment with an armful of large, paper shopping bags with strange names printed on each side that I didn’t even know how to begin to pronounce…
~XoXo~
“You sure know how to fill your closet all at one time don’t you?” I tease, moving to help rid her of the heavy packages. I place them on the couch one by one. “What happened? Everything else was suddenly sooo last season?” I mock Joss’s girly voice. She’s around my age, but her quest for the latest trends in fashion and beauty reminds me of my baby sister, Lyra.
Her eyes narrow playfully before a smug grin crosses her face. “No. I sure know how to fill your closet all at once.” She begins to pluck tons of clothes out, unsurprisingly all in my size. Also unsurprising, is the fact I’d never choose any of the items for myself. Each item looks like it could be worn by someone in Hollywood, with the exception of all those bo-ho grungy hipsters. Crisp button-ups, slacks, multiple three-piece suits complete with ties, several pairs of dress shoes. Even down to the Calvin Klein boxers and accessories like a nice wristwatch and several styles of Ray-Ban glasses, both sun and reading.
“The only thing I’m wearing of this shit are the boxers and Ray-Bans,” I grumble, making my displeasure full and well known. My nose wrinkles in disgust.
“You don’t have a choice if you want to fit in,” she asserts, reaching suddenly to grip the hem of my plain cotton tee as she attempts to wrench it upward.
“What are you doing?” I protest, grabbing her wrists. She jerks them away and levels me with a glare.
Yep. She and my sister would definitely get along.
“I’m doing my job. Now, you can rest assured you’re in the hands of someone who knows what will look good on you. You might not like it, but everyone else will. Even your Valley if she ever happens to see you in these,” she boldly states, jerking my shirt over my head after dropping the one name that will momentarily render me speechless and lost in thought. Every. Single. Time.
A very audible gasp slides from her lips after she throws the shirt to the side. “You’re, like, very fit, Gray,” she states in shock. I glance at her skeptically, wondering if she’s lost her mind or something, then chuckle when mortification sets in and her face flushes a vibrant pink. Her hands fly to her mouth as if the action will somehow push the words back inside.
“Thanks, I guess?” I sit here relaxed, not even trying to cover myself up despite the fact she’s suddenly uncomfortable with my bare chest, even though she’s the one who ripped away my shirt in her pursuit of making me her real-life Ken doll.
Gripping an all-black three-piece, she thrusts the ensemble at me. “Put these on. Now.” Joss settles back into her bossy attitude as if the slip-up never occurred.
I sigh in defeat. “Fine, woman. You win this battle.” My gaze flicks to the ugly dress shoes. “But as for the battle over shoes, you better find some dressy boots of some sort ‘cuz there’s no damn way I’m even touching those God awful things.”
“Gray, I don’t care how much someone claims a pair of boots are dressy…for men, anyway, there’s no way they’ll be suitable for a suit and tie,” she argues, flicking her hair over her shoulder with impatience.
“Make it happen. My boots are a battle you won’t be winning.”
~XoXo~
And with that, I stepped into the stiff and formal fabric, hating every second and wondering how I’d get by without my blue jeans and soft cotton tees.
“How the hell is a man supposed to work with shit so stifling? You can’t climb the ladder you need to climb up in order to fix a leak in the roof, and you sure as hell can’t ride a horse,” I had grumbled to myself.
Surprisingly, when I looked in the mirror, even I could admit I looked damn fine. Joss had done a good job picking out clothes that would suit me. If we were going by looks alone, my confidence and ego would have been through the roof. But I couldn’t fight the sinking feeling that by putting on that suit, I was stripping away my identity bit by bit.
I jump right back into the conversation at the table like I haven’t been gone for thirty minutes, grabbing the glass of the expensive alcohol in front of me and knocking the top off before placing it back on the coaster. Every few seconds I glance back their way, studying the way Pierce puts his arm around her, but not whole-heartedly. He suddenly looks distracted too. I swear his eyes flick over to where Joss and I are sitting. Could be my imagination, but…
Maybe he saw my mark. I fucking hope he did.
I lean over and whisper in Joss’s ear. “Do you know some rich, prick, Pierce sonuvabitch?” The quivering, barely restrained anger in my voice doesn’t get past her as she pulls back slightly, eyes squinting beneath thick lashes as she tries to get a read on me.
“Why are you asking?” It almost seems like she’s apprehensive to answer.
“No reason,” I growl, deciding to drop the subject, “but do you know him?” I ask again, realizing I can’t. I glare over at him once more, and he’s still staring at our table. This time at Joss, who lets out a shaky breath.
“I used to know the bastard,” she grates out through clenched teeth.
“Wait just a damn minute.” My eyes bore into hers. “Is he your guy? The one who…” I allow the question to trail off, fearful someone will overhear, and knowing she’ll get exactly what I’m asking.
She doesn’t answer, just gives a nearly imperceptible nod of the head.
“Well, he’s here with my girl,” I whisper-growl, nearly jumping to my feet, but Joss’s hand lands on my thigh, squeezing painfully.
“Sit your ass back down,” she demands, still speaking through her teeth. “You are not fucking this up for yourself. You are not fucking this up for me. Besides, don’t be an idiot. This is his hotel, his charity event. You really want to go after him right in front of all his noble followers?”
Fuck, she’s right.
“How’d you manage to get hired for the whole Event Coordinator position, then?” I shoot her a puzzled look.
She lifts a shoulder and cocks her head to the side.
“Easy. His dumb ass isn’t involved in simple tasks. He’s lazy and hands off the hiring of non-essential personnel to his partner to delegate. Good for me, dire mistake for him.”
Pierce’s haunted eyes are still watching her when we turn our attention away. I’m feeling too hostile to speak, but lucky for me, Joss is able to brush off her anxiety and mask it perfectly. It’s almost as if she realizes I’m momentarily hindered and purposefully becomes the center of attention at our table. I’ve never met someone so utterly broken on the inside, who seems so vivacious and full of life on the outside. If she weren’t so hell-bent on revenge, she could have been a successful actress.
Tonight has been full of surprises. I’ve been caught off-guard. This isn’t my scene, but lucky for me, I’m good at it. Not like I had a choice, but I’ve become damn good at transitioning to be whatever I need to. I’m well-versed in the art of conversing and charming people when needed. I’m a pro at threatening and intimidating them when it’s required of me. I was good with a firearm before, but now I’m practically a skilled assassin.
These past few years I’ve done a lot of shady, messed up shit. I might be ashamed of it if it weren’t for the fact the people involved are just as scummy as the activities they’re involved in. I always make sure to
never lose sight of the bigger picture.
The finite why to all my doings: Her.
Chapter Seventeen
Valley
PIERCE ENDS UP deciding we should head out early. Mostly, I think, because I up-play my act of not feeling well. I can’t help but make eye contact with Gray as I’m walking out, arm-in-arm, right by his table. And I swear his date, Joss, is staring right at Pierce and me as well. My stupid stomach does a summersault as I turn the corner out of sight, his eyes following me the entire way. I know, because I can’t resist glancing back over my shoulder.
The limo ride home is eerily quiet, making me wonder if Pierce is suspicious of me. After I returned from the bathroom, he began acting so strangely; hardly speaking and seemingly lost in thought. God, he has to know—Unless, of course, something happened I’m unaware of that has him upset. I certainly won’t be the one to broach a bad subject when I don’t even know for sure what it is.
His face has remained white the second half of the evening, almost like he’s seen a ghost. It’s obvious something has him stressed. He’s still attentive, still mindful of me and the fact I’m not feeling well. He’s just distracted—which, coming from me, is saying quite a bit since I’ve been just as distracted for my own reasons. It’s been a relief that he hasn’t tried to touch me, hasn’t taken me up on my offer about special treats on the limo ride home. We might be friends, but I’ve never denied him before, so it would be awkward to explain why I suddenly am now.
Other than running by his office so that he can grab a few documents he forgot there earlier today, we head straight home. Dropping me off at my apartment, he walks me to my door with a promise of calling me later and presses a kiss to my forehead—thankfully, because it would be problematic to shut him down otherwise.
As soon as I step over the threshold, I slide my shoes off my feet and allow my dress to puddle to the floor becoming an ocean of deep blue material. I walk into the bathroom, turning on the shower and giving it time to turn hot as I head to my bedroom. I seek out my journal and put pen to paper, offering the words pent up inside my head the opportunity to flow out. Never once do I pause to think, I just continuing to scribble out every single thought that drifts through my mind. This has always been my way of sorting through my feelings, of organizing my mixed emotions—jotting everything out and re-reading it later.
When I’ve finished, I grab my pajamas and head into the bathroom before stepping into the steamy shower. As the hot water cascades over my head, the full realization of everything I just did—back at the charity event in the powder room with Gray—comes at me full force. I had only thought I had a lot of decisions to make regarding Pierce's and my relationship, but tonight really complicated my life even more.
I need to make a decision now.
I was convinced I wanted to give this whole thing between Pierce and me a shot, maybe try out dating for a while, but that was all before Gray explained away a lot of lingering questions. I might not know everything about what’s going on with him—about his reasons for saying and doing the things he did to me months ago—but I comprehend a lot more than I did, to begin with.
Even as I try to come to a decision, I keep visualizing his darkened, cold, hard stare melting away to reveal the golden caramel I love. I can still feel his hands roaming over my curves, the pressure of his lips against mine. I recall the way he made me so damn frustrated yet so turned on at the same time as he held me in the air, completely at his mercy. And for some reason, all of this brings forward a conversation long since forgotten, calling me back to the happiest time in my life.
~XoXo~
Maybe it’s just the company, but the stars seem to twinkle and shine more brilliantly than I’ve ever seen before. The warmth of his hand in mine, his arms around my shoulders as I sit here leaned back against his hard slab of abdominal muscles, feels heavenly.
I’m nestled comfortably between his legs, feet straight out in front of us, both pairs lined up perfectly—right to right, left to left—with the fuzzy blanket draped over us. Settling further back against him, he wraps both arms around me, placing a kiss against the curve linking my neck and shoulder. I shiver in response.
“Cold?” he asks, pulling the blanket higher over me.
“I wasn’t shivering because of the temperature,” I whisper.
I can feel his smile against my skin, and in this case, a smile really is contagious. Staring up at the night sky used to make me feel so small and inconsequential, but when he’s wrapped around me like this, my view of everything is different. I see everything in a different light.
“It’s so beautiful,” I state in awe.
“Mmmm,” he murmurs in agreement, running his hands up and down my arms to create friction. “But it’s just a bunch of stars without you. Just burning balls of gas trapped in outer space.”
My heart flutters and I don’t even know how to respond to that, so I run the pad of my finger over the soft web of skin between his thumb and index finger. “I can see why your Mom loved it so much,” I finally remark.
“She used to have a journal with things written down; the best times to see certain planets, when certain meteor showers were supposed to occur. Lyra was usually in bed since she was so much younger, so this was our thing we did together. It was our special time. She and Lyra usually read together or cooked. That was their thing. Mom liked to make sure we did things together as a family but also wanted to ensure there were times when we each got her undivided attention. We were the luckiest kids ever.”
Usually, when he speaks of his mother, which isn’t very often at all, he sounds so down in the dumps. Tonight though, he’s excited and seems to be happy sharing the information with someone else. Maybe he’s beginning to find a better way to suffer through his grief instead of always being bitter. I think about how he told me he didn’t want to fall in love with someone, and even though I understand all that completely and still believe love is a foolish fantasy, his certainty over the fact saddens me. I see how he is with his family; he’s a twenty-four year old who provides for them. He’s an amazing, loving, caring older brother and I think he’d make an incredible father someday.
I shift, leaning my head back against his shoulder.
“I can tell you both had a wonderful childhood. Do you want to have kids someday? Because I think you’d make the best dad,” I admit. I’m too curious not to bring up the subject, even though it’s a touchy one.
He stiffens, hands stalling in place as he inhales deeply and holds his breath for more than a few beats. Exhaling slowly, his body relaxes at the same time. Clearing his throat, he says, “I didn’t used to. If by some miracle I fall in love with someone someday, and I know for sure I want to be with them forever, I have no doubt I’ll want to start a family with them.” Then he chuckles in amusement.
“What’s so funny?” I counter.
He shakes his head against me. “Nothing.”
“Tell me,” I order, jabbing my elbow sharply into his ribs.
“Ouch.” I elbow him again. “Ow. Okay, fine. I’ll tell you. It’s just…if you would have asked me that same question a few months ago I probably would have told you, ‘Hell no,' in all honesty,” he says simply, pulling his shoulder up and dropping it.
Something about his answer has me smiling in satisfaction, and I angle my head upwards to kiss the bottom of his scruffy chin. He squeezes me even harder in response before releasing me to point out two vibrant stars that are paired closely together.
“Those two are ours,” his gravelly voice declares.
“Ours?” I parrot back, confused.
Retracting his hand from the direction he’s pointing, he pulls my hair off my shoulder, draping it all together over the opposite side. His cold nose nuzzles against my exposed skin.
“Mmmhmm. Ours. Even when we’re apart one day, you’ll see them, and they’ll be a testament to this night and to the time we spent together while you were here.”
He hardly gets t
he words out before I’ve shoved the covers off my lap, hurriedly spinning around to face him. Pushing him flat back against the rooftop, I straddle him, and he stares up at me with his cocky lopsided smile. I lean down and kiss him hard, then, sitting back on my heels, I give him a direct order, one I’m sure he won’t refuse despite how chilly it is out here. “Make love to me. Up here on your roof, under the stars. You can practice for the days when you decide to start a family. Practice makes perfect they say,” I tease.
He instantly rises up, and I move out of his way. Grabbing the comforter we’re sitting on, he smoothes it out, then lays our throw blanket on top for extra softness. Ever the perfect gentleman, even if what we’re doing might be wrong in some people’s opinions.
With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he says, “I’d like that, Buttercup. I’d like it very much.”
~XoXo~
That night still, to this day, remains up there with the top five nights of my life; it was one of great importance. When I fell for him it wasn’t all at once, and it was nearly impossible to pinpoint one defining moment as to when exactly it happened. But there were some moments that I just knew and recognized deep in my soul as being a giant push from cupid. This was one of those nights, and he was right. I can’t look at the night sky without seeing those two stars, and consequently, I can’t not think of him when I do.
Sadly, for the past few years, I’ve avoided looking at the sky altogether once the sun sets—unless, of course, I’m feeling particularly masochistic. For some reason this memory solidifies my decision for good: I need to end things with Pierce.
Love on the Rise: Book Two of The Against All Odds Series Page 16