The Stone Brothers: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

by Samantha Christy

  “It’s Friday, Mallory. Can’t those wait?” Julian pouts.

  “I know it’s Friday, but I have so much work to do. It’s just not a good night, Julian. Listen, I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? We’ll make plans then.” It’s such an obvious blow-off, I expect him to argue, but he doesn’t.

  “Fine. Talk to you tomorrow then,” he says, disconnecting the call without saying goodbye.

  Could he know what I’m doing tonight? No, it’s impossible. I didn’t even know what I was doing tonight until a few hours ago. I put my phone away so there will be no more interruptions. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Julian?” Chad asks. “He wanted to go out with you?”

  “He wanted to see a new band.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him you were with me?”

  I pause, taking a thoughtful drink before I answer him. But instead, I ask a question of my own. “Why haven’t you called him?”

  “Because he’s had something I’ve always wanted.” He stares at me in the dim light of the restaurant. Even in the relative darkness, I can read his eyes. And I’m pretty sure they are telling me all the things I wanted to hear when I was fifteen. All the things every girl wants to hear. But is it too little, too late? “That’s my excuse,” he says. “What’s yours?”

  “Uh . . . ” Like in the backseat of the car, it seems he’s rendered me speechless. “I guess I didn’t want to stir things up.”

  “He knows you’ve been talking to me though, right?”

  I nod.

  “And he’s not happy about it,” he says.

  “He thinks you’ll hurt me again,” I tell him.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Mal. I promise.”

  “He’s just watching out for me like always.”

  Pain washes across Chad’s face. I know I hurt him when I say things like that. But he needs to remember that I can’t just forget the past. He needs to know life went on without him and he can’t simply waltz back into my life and pick up where we left off.

  “Will you tell me about you and him?” he asks. “You know, like when did you start dating and for how long?”

  “There’s not much to tell,” I say. Except for maybe that he cheated on me, ruined our friendship, and further broke the trust I placed in men. “We got together after my mom died. He helped me through it and I guess I was at the point where I needed something more. But we only dated for a year.”

  “What happened?”

  It’s too soon to reveal all my secrets to the boy who abandoned me. “We just wanted different things, I guess.”

  “But you stayed friends. That’s good.”

  I nod. “It took a while to rebuild our friendship, but we got there. And now he and Melissa are my best friends.”

  Chad’s eyebrows shoot up. “So there’s a chance for you and me after all, huh? I mean, if you rebuilt your friendship with Julian . . .”

  And therein lies my dilemma. Julian cheated on me. He did one of the worst things a boy can do to a girl. How can I forgive him for that and not forgive Chad for merely forgetting me when his parents moved him away? Maybe because losing Chad felt so much worse than losing Julian.

  “Maybe,” I say. “But there is so much I don’t know about you anymore.”

  He spreads his arms wide open, leaning back in his chair. “What do you want to know? I’m an open book for you, Mal.”

  I really want to know what sent him to rehab. What horrible thing happened that made him realize he needed to get clean? What life-changing event prompted him to sober up? The thing he said would make me hate him. But I don’t ask. I don’t ask because I fear it might have to do with another woman. One who gave him an ultimatum perhaps. One who he loved so much he got clean for. The thought of him being in love hurts my heart. It physically causes my chest to constrict and my throat to tighten.

  Our server arrives, placing a large pizza on the table. I look at it and then smile at Chad. “You remembered?”

  He leans over to get the champagne out of the ice bucket, waving off Mario when he rushes over to help him. “Of course I remembered. I remember everything about you. I remember you like spinach on your pizza. And that you don’t like red M&Ms. And that you prefer your water without ice because you think your body will have to work too hard to get it back to body temperature.” He turns away from me, popping the cork in the other direction, laughing at me when I plug my ears. “And that you hate loud noises that sound like gunshots.”

  He pours us each a glass and then raises his. “To . . . possibilities.”

  I hesitate before raising mine. He frowns. “Come on, Mal. Throw a guy a bone here. I’m really trying.”

  I think about everything he’s done for me this week. Coming to my house and talking with my dad. Showing up at the school. Ethan’s dinner. Tonight. And then I think about the fact that all week long, he’s done everything right. He’s been nice, funny, chivalrous, generous. And those eyes, I swear I could get lost in them. I raise my glass. “To possibilities,” I say.

  “So, open book,” he says, serving me a slice. “Shoot.”

  “Okay. Tell me about Courtney Benson.”

  He brings a hand to his neck. “Going right for the jugular, eh?”

  “We have to start somewhere.” I take a huge bite of my dinner, never losing eye contact.

  “See, that’s what I love about you. You’re very direct. And you aren’t afraid to eat in front of me, even when you get spinach in your teeth.”

  I use my free hand to cover my mouth. “Oh, fudge. I have spinach in my teeth?”

  He laughs. “No, you don’t. But I’ll give you a thousand bucks right now if you say the word fuck.”

  I feel the heat cross my face. It’s not that I haven’t said the word. I’ve said it plenty of times. Like when I stub my toe in the middle of the night walking to the bathroom. Or when I failed my first calculus exam. But for some reason, I can’t say it to him. Maybe it’s because you’ve always wanted to do it to him.

  “You don’t actually have a thousand dollars with you, do you?” I hold up my hand before he speaks. “Wait, don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know if you have more in your pocket than I make in one week.”

  He finishes his slice and then refills my glass and only my glass. “So, you want to know about Courtney.” He puts the bottle back in the ice bucket and wipes his hands. “As I’m sure you already know, we dated for a while last year. We met during Defcon One pre-production, hit it off and were together most of the summer and throughout filming. I broke it off when I found out she was using drugs. I tasted it on her one day and it scared the shit out of me. What if just kissing her would get me hooked on it again? It wasn’t a chance I was willing to take. I don’t think she’s a hard-core user like I was, but it was a deal-breaker for me.”

  “And what about the others?” I ask, as long as he’s given me carte blanche. “Heather Crawford and Ana Garner? That Tanya woman said you have a history of dating your leading women.”

  “You saw the show, huh? I was wondering if you did. I didn’t want to say anything to freak you out and send you running for the hills so soon.”

  “I saw it.” I don’t tell him that Kendra was the one who told me about it and that I had to search my TV for past episodes until I found it.

  He holds up two fingers. “Twice I’ve dated a leading lady. Not every time like she made it out to be. I dated Heather way back when. Then there was Courtney. It was bullshit what Tanya said about Ana. Ana and I are friends, but we never dated.” He chews on his lip in thought. “I took Lila Knox out for dinner a few times, she had a supporting role on Malibu. Other than that, I’ve dated some random women. Would you like me to compile a list?”

  “I’m not sure we could come up with enough paper,” I joke.

  His hand covers his heart. “Ouch, Mal. That hurt. In any case, that falls under the ‘shit from the past’ category, okay? That’s not me anymore.”

  “Not anymore, h
uh?” I ask skeptically. “Then tell me, who is the last woman you slept with and when?”

  His jaw drops at my temerity.

  “You said open book, Chad.”

  I can see he’s at war with himself on how to answer the question. Oh, God, please don’t let it be this week. I take a very large sip of my champagne, draining the glass.

  “That I did. Okay then, it was late last year. Her name was Nikki and she’s the daughter of one of the Blind Shot producers. She lives here in New York, so anytime I was here last fall, she would be my date. We hooked up a few times but it was casual. Courtney was my last relationship.”

  He refills my glass for the third time. “Do I get to ask you the same question?”

  My answer comes quickly. “No.”

  He frowns and looks at the table. “Please don’t tell me it was this week, Mal.”

  I can’t help but smile that his words matched my very thoughts. I laugh. “No, not this week. So far removed from this week it’s downright embarrassing.”

  Now he’s the one smiling. Smiling a little too big if you ask me. But it doesn’t last long as his face turns somber and he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I want the answer to this, but was Julian your first?”

  I look down at the table, not very fond of remembering that low time in my life. “No. Julian and I never—”

  “Wait,” he interrupts. “Never? You dated for a year and you never . . . not once?”

  I shake my head. “It’s complicated. And you don’t have to look so darn happy about it.”

  “Never,” he whispers under his breath, looking at me in disbelief as the smile returns to his face.

  “What about you?” I ask, not missing an opportunity to quid pro quo. “Who was your first?”

  He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them, he looks directly at me, holding my stare with his like a tractor beam. I fear he’s going to tell me something I don’t want to hear because I see so much truth behind those blue eyes. He reaches over and puts his hand on top of mine. “Someone who should have been you.”

  For the third time tonight, his words slay me and all I can do is stare at him. Take in his golden-blonde hair that is longer than he kept it when we were younger. Take in his handsome face that has grown more manly over the years. Take in his hand on top of mine and the intense feelings plowing through my body from his simple touch. And I realize in this moment that even though my mind is telling me it’s a bad idea—even though my heart may never survive another beating from him—even though all odds are against us, I know that I want this man more than I’ve ever wanted anything. And right here, right now, I decide that yes, maybe the boy I grew up with is worth everything I’ve endured and everything I’ll have to go through to get him. I blink, sending tears rolling down my cheeks.

  He reads my bleeding eyes. He knows every thought that crosses behind them. He always has. He moves his chair closer to mine and wipes away my tears. “Mallory, I want this. I want to give this a chance. More than anything. But being with me comes at a price. One you might not want to pay. I need you to understand what you are in for.”

  I nod, sniffing back more tears. “I know, Kendra told me.”

  “She what?” he raises his voice, clearly upset by the revelation.

  “She came to see me yesterday.” Chad looks like he might blow a gasket so I quickly add, “Don’t be mad. She’s the reason I’m here. I wasn’t going to see you again, but she reminded me about all of your good qualities. I really like her.”

  “I’m going to double her salary,” he jokes. “Seriously though, Kendra is great at what she does, but there is only so much she can bury. Eventually, this will come out. And probably sooner rather than later.” He nods to the kitchen where servers have been peeking out at us all night. “See them? They could be taking pictures or video. Even with the non-disclosure agreements I had them sign, things always get leaked.”

  My jaw drops. “You had them sign non-disclosure agreements? Do you do that everywhere you go?”

  “No, but I needed to tonight. I had to do everything I could to make sure your face didn’t get plastered across every news magazine. Because that’s what will happen, Mal. And it won’t be long before they find out your name. And then after that, reporters and paparazzi might show up at your house or your school. A lot of people will be nice about it, but there are always those who will hate you for being with me.” He takes the last swig of his champagne, looking pained. “There are so many reasons why you shouldn’t want to be with me. And every one of them is valid. But I’m asking you to be with me anyway. I’m asking you to risk everything to see if we can get back what we once had and more.”

  I realize his hand hasn’t let go of mine, and now he’s threaded his fingers through my fingers. Our hands are entwined as if they were made to be this way. As if my hand was crafted solely and specifically to fit with his and no other.

  He gives my hand a squeeze. “What do you say, Mal? Are you willing to risk it? For me? For us?”

  His blue eyes sparkle as candlelight reflects off their glassy surface. He’s got tears in his eyes. Tears that mirror mine. He wants this as badly as I do. Maybe if we both want it so much, we can make it work. Even though everything is against us, maybe the ten years we spent together will trump the nine years we spent apart. Maybe the bond we made back then can’t be broken, just weakened. “I wasn’t,” I tell him. “I was ready to have you walk out of my life as quickly as you came back into it.”

  “And now?” he asks, hopefully.

  “You’ve been nothing but a gentleman, Chad. You’ve treated me like a queen, and I’m not talking about the money. I could care less about that, I hope you know that. I watched the person you became after you moved to L.A. and I see the person you are now—there is no comparison. I might be willing to give this a shot. But I can’t make any promises.”

  “Well, I can,” he says. “I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you, Mal. Including me. Especially me. Before, when I made you that promise, I was seven years old. I’m twenty-five now. My promises are worth more. The stakes are higher. And I’m telling you, you can count on me to be the best goddamn boyfriend anyone ever had.”

  Boyfriend. Chad Stone could be my boyfriend. Never in a million years did I think I’d be in this position. It’s surreal. I find myself wanting to call Mel and Julian and tell them about it. But after all that’s happened, I’m not sure they will support me; not Julian anyway. And then I think that maybe they won’t fit into Chad’s world. Would he expect me to choose his friends over mine? Would he expect me to give up all the things that make me who I am? He’s a superstar, of course he would. My heart falls into the pit of my stomach and I feel sick.

  “Mal? You’re starting to scare me.” He takes both of my hands in his. “If you have any reservations, just tell me. If you agree to be my girlfriend, none of that other shit matters. The only things that matter are what you and I want. Everything else will work out. Believe me.”

  I nod reluctantly. “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Okay?” he practically yells, his eyes full of joy like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “Yes. Under one condition,” I say.

  “Anything,” he says. “You can have anything you want.”

  “I want you to meet with Julian.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chad

  I feel like I’m auditioning for a part. To be Mallory’s boyfriend. And it might just be the most important audition of my life. Her friends are everything to her. I know that from firsthand experience.

  I sit across the table from her two best friends. Melissa, whom I’ve just met; and the guy who was once my best friend. The third musketeer. My partner in crime during some damn good years. But now, it’s hard to see him as anything except the guy who stole my girl. Logically, I know that’s not true. In fact, I pretty much handed her to him on a silver fucking platter. But that doesn’t make it any easier to think of the two of them tog
ether. My only solace is he didn’t sleep with her. Thank God. I’m not sure I could sit here and play nice if he had.

  When Julian walked into the small private dining room at The Waldorf, we sized each other up. I half expected us to circle around each other and then pounce, fighting to the death to defend what we think is ours. Instead, we both pasted on smiles, shaking hands, unsure of the feelings we have for the brothers we once were.

  “What do you expect her to do when you leave?” Julian asks, pushing his salmon around on his plate. “Just sit back and watch as you parade around with other women?”

  “Of course not,” I say. “I’m not going to be with anyone else, Julian. I’ve made a commitment to Mallory.”

  He turns to her. “Do you really believe he’s going to forgo all of that for you? Have you not seen the news? Even since he’s been here. While he’s been seeing you this week—he’s still been seeing Courtney Benson.”

  “He’s not seeing her, Julian,” Mallory says. “They work together. They have to make appearances together. The press, the paparazzi, they twist things around to make it look like a more interesting story. And because they dated last year, there are a lot of old pictures that give the stories credibility.”

  I try not to look like I’m gloating as she defends me. But on the inside—there’s a party going on. And as the night progresses, I see her becoming more invested in this. In us.

  “And you’re okay with that?” he asks her. “With him traveling around the world doing God knows what with someone he used to go out with?”

  “How is that any fucking different than Mal being friends with you, Julian?” I ask. “The two of you go to dinner. You hang out all the time. Hell, she even crashes at your apartment sometimes.” I turn my attention to Mallory. “We will have to trust each other.”

  “So what, you’re going to swing into town when you need a booty call?” Julian asks. “What the hell is she supposed to do the rest of the time, sit here and wait until you decide it’s convenient to see her?”