Chaos & the Geek (Grace Grayson Security Book 1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  By the time I’d dragged myself out of his bed, showered, dressed, and had a cup of coffee, that simple joy was fading and being replaced with doubt.

  I couldn’t remember him leaving. Had he not said goodbye? Why hadn’t he woken me? Was he regretting it, so leaving was the easiest way to pretend it hadn’t happened? What was going to happen now that it had happened? What was Patrick going to say if he found out?

  I had no real answers. All I knew was that I was sure it shouldn’t happen again. It was a one-time only sort of deal. And he’d agreed. Right?

  So, why did I feel like the only wrong choice we’d made was saying we’d only ever be just friends?

  Every moment since he’d come home on the night before had been unbearable. The sexual tension alone felt enough to kill me. But trying to act normal been torture. Every time I thought I was definitely being normal, something minor would happen and I’d act even weirder in my effort to act normal.

  Monday night after our talk had been okay. Kind of. Kit had actually cooked dinner for us, doing everything he could not to disturb me as he did. Even me and my amazing ability to dive into work and avoid my problems hadn’t saved me from continually looking at him.

  When it was ready, we ate together on the couch as we watched a movie. It was only awkward if I realised it was awkward. Or when we, for example, accidently bumped as I rearranged.

  “Sorry,” I huffed with a smile.

  He shook his head. “All good.” But I saw him swallow and wondered what else he’d been thinking.

  I had to swallow myself or I would have asked him. And I was pretty sure that wasn’t how friends were supposed to interact. Or was it? Now I was overthinking things again and all I could do was give him a stiff smile and shuffle closer to the other side of the couch.

  After the movie finished, I actually counted to fifteen before I turned a smile on him and said, “I should probably get back to it. Geoffrey won’t read himself for the sixth time.”

  Kit nodded. “Of course. I’ve got some work to check on anyway.”

  I also nodded. “Okay. Great.”

  And I went back to my work, all the while painfully aware of where in the penthouse Kit was without even having to see him. I could feel his hands on my body. I could taste his kiss. I could hear his voice in my ear, soft and low and the biggest turn on in human history. With all that going on in my head, poor Geoffrey didn’t stand a chance.

  So, I timed my exit perfectly to say good night to Kit but no more.

  The next day, Tuesday, I gave the Cowardly Lion a run for his money and made sure I stayed in my room until I knew Kit had left. It was about as brave as I’d been in saying good night to him the night before, but I just didn’t feel brave enough to face him when I couldn’t get him out of my head.

  Instead of trying to get him out, I chose distraction in a more guaranteed form. I put my music on as loud as I could handle, and started unpacking. It worked. Mostly. I had all my clothes put away – still barely taking up half the walk-in robe – and was feeling more stoic about the whole just friends decision as I made a start on the endless ‘Bits & Bobs’ boxes.

  It was, after all, for the best.

  The whole Patrick flipping his lid thing aside, I liked Kit. We got along now. I didn’t want that ruined when he realised I was boring and unglamorous. It was better we were friends, and I could still live with him and be in his life, without any risk that we were going to implode and ruin anyone’s life.

  It was a good plan. One I stuck to even better because he was working all night and I didn’t see him. We exchanged a couple of quick messages because he’d wanted me to know what he was up to. But I didn’t have to see him or smell him or have any other stark reminder of Sunday night.

  Wednesday gave me a slight reprieve from my overactive brain in the form of Carmel and Flo, who stayed to have a coffee – or three – with me as her aunt pottered around the penthouse, taking her time with the cleaning and the tidying and going over the shopping list with me. Flo was amazing and I was a little bit in love with her by the time she left.

  “So, Arthurian legend?” she asked me.

  I’d exhausted the photos in her phone of her twin sons, Hank and Archie, and we were onto my PhD notes. It was like we trying to discover everything about each other in record time.

  I nodded. “King Arthur and the knights and all that.”

  “Merlin?” she asked me excitedly.

  I nodded. “And Merlin.”

  “Have you seen the show?”

  I shook my head. “What show?”

  She waved her hand at me. “Ugh. It’s the best. The boys are gorgeous. The bromance is real. I’ll bring it for you next week when Tía comes.”

  I smiled. “Oh, I like that idea.”

  She pointed at me knowingly. “You can even call it research.”

  I laughed. “Yes!”

  “Right?”

  “And more Hank and Archie pictures, please,” I begged.

  She laughed. “That I can do. You don’t babysit, do you?”

  I gasped excitedly. “Cuddles? Ugh. I want to say yes, but I have never been left in charge of small humans before.”

  “I’ll start you out slow,” Flo promised and I smiled.

  I decided without a doubt that I liked Flo from that moment on. I also decided that surrounding myself with new friends was probably a really healthy and sensible thing to do – I could only live in PhD world for so much of my life and I didn’t really want no life awaiting me on the other end.

  So, not only did I make sure to swap numbers with Flo – and promise myself that I’d actually charge my phone regularly – I also left the penthouse on Thursday. Yes, as in showered, dressed in society-approved clothes, and got into the Mayhew’s elevator all by myself.

  My mission? See if Petra wanted to go and get that drink.

  With all the stuff with Dannie and Brent, I was most angry with Dannie. I wanted to say that I was surprised that she’d betrayed me like that. I mean, yes, I’d quite clearly not been terribly attached to Brent but that still didn’t give a girl the right to sleep with her best friend’s boyfriend, did it?

  The more I thought about it, though, the more I realised I was resigned to her behaviour and the more I realised that she’d never been a terribly good friend to me through our whole lives anyway. She’d treated me like the DUFF – I was really only around to make her look better because I’d always been less outgoing, less concerned with boys, and less interested in behaving or dressing with the express purpose of getting a guy’s attention.

  And Farrah hadn’t been much better. She’d always been more Dannie’s friend than mine anyway, so I hadn’t felt her absence at all. In fact, I’d actually enjoyed not having to put up with the drivel that came out of their mouths when they were together.

  I just counted myself lucky that I’d been so angry with Dannie that I hadn’t had time to miss her until I realised she’d always been a bit shit. As I walked into Petra’s shop, there was a little bit of an ache in my heart where Dannie used to be. But I’d spent years in therapy learning to love myself again, so I knew when I was better off in the long run.

  “If it isn’t Amber Grace!” Petra trilled when she saw me.

  She was measuring up an older women in a stunning gold dress I was willing to bet cost way more than even the one Kit had bought me.

  I gave Petra a small wave and smiled at the woman.

  “Just give me a sec to finish up and I’ll be with you,” Petra said, her tone all light and airy – much more so that it had been the week before.

  Patrick had a similar tone. He called it his ‘posh people’ voice. It always made me smile when he used it, and Petra’s was no different.

  I sat in the chair Kit had occupied the other day and tried not to think too hard about him. Not like that anyway.

  I tried to focus on the other things. The things like how he’d been with me during my
panic attack. How he’d been with Dannie and Brent both times we’d seen them. How we’d actually been able to talk and laugh with each other this last week.

  But no matter how hard I tried, I kept coming back to us in bed. It seemed inevitable and I couldn’t stop it. It was like I was incapable of thinking about him one way without the other intruding.

  So it was, as I waited for Petra, that I started to wonder if my pesky little awkward crush on Christopher Grayson had turned into something far more dangerous. I started to wonder whether maybe I was falling in actual, real love with my brother’s best friend.

  I wanted to say no. I wanted to say it was ridiculous. After all, everything I thought about him was strictly physical. He was hot. That was all. And my small teenaged brain, back when I naively hadn’t really understood much in the way of reality, had liked swooning over his dark and dangerous vibe from a respectable distance. Right?

  Wrong.

  Apparently.

  Because I might not have known much about actual, real love, but I had this annoying feeling that my feelings for Kit were becoming just that. That they at least had the potential to become just that. But I wasn’t going to let them get that far. I was a strong, independent woman and I could totally make my heart not irrevocably fall for him.

  “Something funny?” Petra asked and I looked up to see we were alone in the shop.

  I also noticed I was wearing a smile that suggested I already knew I couldn’t make my heart do jack shit. I sighed.

  “Kind of. It’s nothing.”

  “Fair enough.” She dropped into the chair besides me. “What can I help you with? Fundraiser? Ball? Cocktail party at the Governor’s house? Please don’t tell me the team are taking you out again,” she pleaded.

  I pulled my head out of my heart and smiled at her. “Not that I know of, no.”

  “Thank fuck. I’m a jealous creature by nature and I’m just not sure I could be friends with you after that,” she teased.

  “On the topic of friends… That is actually why I’m here.”

  “Oh. I’m listening.” She leant towards me.

  “I was wondering if you wanted to get that drink?”

  Her cheeky grin reached her eyes. “Um. Yes, please.”

  “I can repay you in a million Chaos and Hawk stories,” I promised.

  She waved my words away with a scoff. “Bah. I can take or leave those–”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Pfft,” she laughed. “Okay. Maybe not. But a drink sounds amazing though. I want to get to know little Grace.” She took my arm in her hands a shook me gently in excitement.

  I could understand that. I was also excited. “Excellent.”

  “When were you thinking?”

  “I’m not fussy. When are you free?”

  Petra thought about it for a moment. “How about tomorrow night? I can bring a change of clothes to work and we can be those classy bitches who hang out in the Mayhew’s front bar on a Friday night?” She waggled her eyebrows at me encouragingly.

  I nodded as I laughed. “Sounds great.”

  “Okay. Gimme your number so I can text you when I’m off.”

  We exchanged numbers and she hugged me before I left. There was an actual spring in my step as I strolled back towards the Mayhew. And, for once in my life, I actually enjoyed being out in a slight drizzle because I was in such a good mood.

  My good mood lasted about fifteen minutes because Kit was home by the time I got back up to the penthouse. And it wasn’t like the sight of him made me unhappy. It didn’t. It made me happy. Just in less of an I’m-getting-my-life-together kind of way and more of a wow-look-at-the-way-he-looks-at-me, maybe-I-am-in-love-with-him kind of way.

  When he saw me stepping off the elevator, he smiled warmly and I fooled myself for a second into thinking we were perfect as just friends. I fooled myself into thinking we could easily talk about each other’s day or battle it out in Street Fighter without me ever wanting anything more than his friendship. But a second was all I needed to feel better about it. A second I could work on.

  “Hey,” he said as he loosened his tie.

  “Hey.”

  “I’m surprised and impressed. You actually left the penthouse without coercion.”

  “I had an errand to run.”

  He was looking at his cuffs as he undid them, but spared me a sideways half-smirk. “I had half a mind to send out a search party.”

  I grinned. “A text might have been a little less drastic.”

  He nodded. “It might have.”

  “I was only down the road after all.”

  “Oh?” He was aiming for nonchalant, but I heard the almost-jealous question in his voice.

  “Mm,” I replied. “I had to see a girl about a drink.”

  I could see he was trying not to frown, and failing. “Dannie doesn’t deserve–”

  “No,” I interrupted, practically giddy that he cared. “Not Dannie. If I see her in a million years, it’ll be too soon.”

  “Good. You deserve better than her, Amber.”

  I tried not to flush at the sound of my name on his lips, especially when I was trying harder to forget the way it had sounded while he was inside me.

  “Would you say Petra was better…?” I hedged.

  He looked at me quickly. “You’re hanging out with Petra?”

  “It is, thus far, only a plan. Would it be a problem if I followed through?” Why was I sounding so weird? We were almost managing this normal thing and I had to go and be weird about it.

  He nodded quickly and cleared his throat. “No. Of course not. It’s not up to me who you hang out with.”

  It was a testament to my newfound feelings that I had a moment where I wanted it to be up to him; I wanted to impress him. I wanted him to think I made good decisions, decisions he agreed with. Then I remembered that was stupid and making decisions for a boy was stupid. Although how different really was it than making decisions we thought a friend or our family would think well of us for?

  Not the point, I told myself sternly.

  “So, it’s okay I’m hanging out with her and it’s okay if I happen to maybe leak a few secrets to her after a couple of drinks?” I pressed.

  He smiled at me, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Petra’s good people, Amber. And she knows exactly what the boys and I will do to her if she hurts you.”

  I smiled and tried for a joke. “Oh, I’m so uninterested in even thinking about a boyfriend right now.” Which came out so well.

  Kit coughed. “Ever?”

  When any thought of ‘boyfriend’ currently had me believing no one could ever measure up to Kit and, even if we made a go of it, it couldn’t last? Not really, no. Not that I was going to tell him the express details.

  “Outlook not good,” I told him.

  He nodded. “Fair enough. Uh, what…? What plans did you and Petra make?”

  “She said something about classy bitches at the Mayhew’s front bar on a Friday.”

  Kit’s smile was nostalgic. “Yeah. She would.”

  “What about you? Plans for tomorrow night?”

  He looked at me uncertainly. “Uh. No. Not… Not at the moment. There has been some talk of trashing your high scores, though.”

  “Ah. Rollie, I presume?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, tell him to have at it.”

  Kit blinked. “No. Sure. I will. Permission kind of takes the fun out. But…”

  “Yeah.” I wasn’t really sure what I was agreeing to.

  Was this small talk? If so, I didn’t care for it. We sounded so awkward. I felt like I was over-forcing the normality. Did I sound as stilted to him?

  “Did you…have plans for dinner?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “Work thing. Just have to change.”

  I clapped my hands in front of my body totally casually. “Cool.”

  His parting look lingered and
I know mine did a lot of lingering in return. I couldn’t help it! Things swirled between us unspoken like I could feel them and I knew exactly what they were. And I wanted to answer them but, if I wanted Kit for the long-term, then just friends it was going to have to be.

  16

  Kit

  I didn’t want to speak ill of all those opposite-sex friends who made it work. I’m sure there were plenty of guys capable of being friends with his best mate’s little sister. I’m sure there were other little sisters I could be friends with.

  But me and Amber?

  I wanted to do it. I wanted so badly to be what she needed me to be. But it was – figuratively and literally – hard.

  Especially when she wandered out from her end of the penthouse on Friday night dressed in what could only be described as an outfit to eclipse all sexy librarian fantasies. She wore a tight-fitting sweater that accentuated all curves, a pleated plaid skirt that fell just above her knees, tights, and the sort of heels I remembered Petra calling booties. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in soft waves and her glasses accentuated the make up around her eyes.

  Hawk sniggered when he saw her.

  “What?” she asked indignantly.

  “I was worried about blokes eyeing you off all night.”

  So had I. I still was.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Amber asked and looked around at us.

  Tank and Nico were looking at her as well, but Rollie took the distraction to finally KO Nico’s fighter. He threw his arms up in the air, then looked around.

  “Oh, hey,” he said to Amber. “You look nice.”

  “Nice?” Hawk asked. “She looks like a grandma.”

  No. Nope. She didn’t. And the situation in my pants was trying to be very vocal about that. I could be a gentleman and keep it to myself.

  “She looks nice,” Nico reprimanded.

  “Nice?” Amber scoffed, looking down at herself. “I was kind of hoping for a little more than nice.”