Grace wrinkled her nose at my anger.
Despite our many years as friends, Grace didn’t do ‘feelings’ well. They were complicated and usually involved crying. She preferred to accept and move on. I wasn’t really certain that entailed dealing with said emotions, but if that was how she wanted it, I was fine. Despite all this, she was there for me the previous year when Gran passed. Actually, she had been the only one there, the person to help me pick up the pieces and attempt move on.
A loud buzz ripped through the silence in the suite.
“Oh, he’s here!” Grace raced for the intercom with me hot on her heels.
“Doesn’t Chase have unpacking to do?” I asked.
I stopped abruptly as she pushed the button.
“Hello,” she said in her sing-song voice.
“Yeah,” a rich voice sounded through the speaker. Gavin. “I’m here.”
Grace pushed the buzzer and turned to look at me.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I said, crossing my arms across my chest.
“I forgot to tell you,” she said with a sly smile. “Gavin had to leave his other school for some reason, so Mom pulled a few strings to get him in here. Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed hard. “Great.”
Shit.
* * *
I sat in the arm chair, trying desperately to focus on my e-reader and not Gavin lounging comfortably on the couch. Really, the downside to having all the furniture set up early was that nothing was really needed to do when we moved in. Aside from the few odds and ends we brought with us, the room was ready to go. It didn’t help that Grace and Chance had hunkered down in her room. Luckily we hadn’t been forced to listen to them doing their rabbit imitation thus far.
I narrowed my eyes at the lump of man meat enjoying my Doritos. He turned away from the constant drone of the news and held the bag out to me.
“Want some?” he said.
I set down my reader and grabbed the bag.
“Sure, I’d love some of my chips.” I popped one in my mouth and rolled up the bag.
Gavin leaned back against the couch and shrugged. The gray t-shirt he wore rode up, revealing a strip of tanned, muscled flesh. I could feel the warmth seeping in as thoughts of tasting him swirled through my head.
I jumped up and slammed my knee into the coffee table.
“Oh shit!” I said, falling back onto the chair.
“You certainly get hurt a lot.” He stooped in front of me. A hand pulled my leg up by the calf and placed my foot on the table. He gently pushed up my black yoga pants. The area was already starting to swell and a purplish bruise was forming. “Well that looks like it hurts.” He brushed a finger over it, and I hissed at the contact. I tried to pull away. “None of that now.” His hand on my calf held firm and forced my leg to stay in place.
In truth, I’m not so certain I could have moved it. The gentle caressing and searing pain was almost a bit too much of a sensory overload.
“Wait here,” he said.
I closed my eyes and leaned back. It really shouldn’t be such a shock I was so affected by him. Gavin might be a prick, but he was certainly a good-looking prick. It was a shame really that he was so self-centered. But I had seen this road, and it was littered with broken hearts. He was not the kind of person you lost your heart to.
I shot up bolt right when something cold touched the tender surface of my knee.
“What the—”
“Relax, and just hold that on.” He reached under my knees and back, lifting me with ease out of the chair.
“What are you doing?” My heart fluttered as he spun around. Come on, who doesn’t want to be princess carried?
And just like that, I was resting on the couch. Gavin gently lifted my leg and placed several pillow under it. I let go of the Ziplock bag of ice full of ice he had managed to find. When I looked up, he was holding the pillows off my bed. I leaned forward and waited for him to wedge them behind me.
“Thanks,” I said as I settled in. “Wait. Where did you get the ice?”
Gavin lifted up both of my feet, pillows included, and slid under them. My breathing hitched as one foot rested on his muscled thigh.
The clink of bottles drew my attention to his hand. He smirked as he passed me a beer.
I hitched a brow at him as I took a swallow. “Came prepared?”
Gavin wrinkled his nose and took a long draw off his beer.
“I’m in a frat house. It was the only way my father would allow me to switch schools.” He took another draw off his beer. “Have you been to a frat house? Beer is like water there. I’m glad to be gone tonight. It’s loud and all they think about is getting laid.”
“And you don’t? I think Ms. Legs would have something to say about that.” I took another drink and rolled my eyes. The fact that she bothered me said more than I wanted.
Gavin barked out a laugh. “I suppose she would, but not in the way you’re thinking.”
I arched a brow at him.
He laughed again. “She had just finished with the shoot and ended up staying the night with us.” He looked me in the eyes. “By herself.”
I huffed and said nothing.
He went back to watching the TV. “Mom asked me to get her up in the morning. Apparently the princess doesn’t like the sounds of alarms in the morning.”
I rolled my eyes. That I could believe. Models were about as picky and superstitious as baseball players. It was a wonder they ever got anything done.
“A woman who isn’t interested in the great Gavin Locke?”
Gavin snorted, a sound I didn’t even think he could make.
“Hardly.” He turned to look at me once again. His piercing green eyes drilled into mine. “She isn’t my type.”
He rested his hand on my shin as if it were second nature and watched the TV again. Stock prices scrolled across the screen as we sat in silence.
“So why did you need to leave in the first place?” I asked. “Passing up a first-tier Ivy for a second-tier Ivy just doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened, and the hand on my leg twitched, but he continued to stare at the TV.
“Sometimes things just don’t work out like we plan.”
I nodded and let it go. If he didn’t want to share, then I likely didn’t want to know. The Lockes were known for their ruthlessness after all.
I drained the rest of the beer and leaned back to enjoy the warmth that spread to my head. The thumb on my leg swirled distracting circles on the exposed skin. Despite how it should feel, the rhythm was comforting. I felt myself slipping into the gentle fog of alcohol. The perils of being a light-weight.
“So, what book were you reading?” he asked.
I looked up to see Gavin staring back. Book? I scrunched up my forehead trying to remember.
“The Great Gatsby,” I said, after some time.
“And what do you think of it so far?” He had turned his body and flicked off the TV. I will admit it’s nice having a person’s full attention when you’re talking with them.
I scrunched up my nose. “It’s a little too much at times but not far off from people I’ve met through my parents.”
“That seems a little exaggerated.” He chuckled, causing the muscles in his stomach to bunch up against my leg.
“You would say that, Mr. Gatsby.” I rolled my eyes.
Gavin laughed harder now, almost a real belly laugh that made me flutter down low.
“And what does that make you? Daisy?”
I sighed at his obvious dismissal. “No, Nick.”
Shock spread over his face as what I said sunk in.
“Nick?” he said as he fully turned to look at me.
The movement jostled my leg and caused it to cramp from the position. I struggled to sit up and gasped when I felt Gavin’s hand grasp my own and pulled. His fingers were warm and solid. For one hazy moment I forgot I was trying to sit up and just enjoyed the feeling.
When I looked up at him, the amused sparkle in his eyes kicked my heart into high gear and the fog cleared. I pulled away and placed the icepack on the table. The pillows beneath my leg dropped to the floor. I drew both legs away from him and settled back on the pillow.
“Nick is the outsider,” I said. “The one filled with wonder at this larger than life society. But after time, he sees it for what it really is.”
“And what is that?” His eyes seemed to darken with the question.
“A sham,” I whispered.
“So what about Nick? Is he just some gullible schmuck they get to do their bidding?”
I could feel the irritation radiating off of him. I was lost. Were we talking about Nick or me?
I paused to think of the right words.
“Nick is infatuated with Gatsby.” I flushed at the implication and hurried on to explain. “He’s grand in everything he does, and it seems like Nick just wants to be a piece of that grandness, no matter how small it may be.”
“And what of Gatsby? He’s just some guy in love with a girl. Seems like a tragic end.”
I sat up, excited with the path we’d taken.
“You see, that’s the problem. It didn’t have to be this way.”
Gavin arched an eyebrow at my statement, urging me to continue.
“This is a man with unlimited resources. Roots in the seedier side of life. And yet the one woman he wants is outside his reach?” I stretched back, satisfied with my assessment of the character.
“Are you saying he should have just taken her? That doesn’t seem likely.”
“I’m saying...” I bored into Gavin’s eyes. “If he loved her so much, why did he let her go the first time? Why didn’t he get her back?”
Gavin leaned closer. The warmth from his body sent a shiver down my spine. “Maybe he didn’t want to ruin what she had.”
“Or maybe he never really loved her. Maybe he just loved the idea of her.”
The room went silent as we locked eyes. The debate of Daisy and Gatsby was dropped as we battled for control.
I froze as Gavin reached out and pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
“Or maybe,” he whispered, “He didn’t want her tainted by his world and only caved when he saw that her world was already tainted.”
I forced a few deep breaths. My heart twisted at the odd turn. Never had Gavin even slightly given off that he might be interested.
My eyes narrowed at the thought. Someone who was interested didn’t jump from bed to bed.
I placed both feet on the floor and stood. The knee I had banged was feeling much better but quivered when I put my full weight on it.
“I think I should get to bed,” I said in his general direction. If I had to look into those deep green eyes, I might just okay with some bed hopping.
When I reached for the back of the couch, a strong shoulder slid under my arm, and I was forced to wrap it around the neck attached. I turned to look at Gavin.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Really.”
“Just let me,” he said so quietly I couldn’t be sure I had heard him.
We slowly made our way to my bed. We stopped when we had reached it. He slipped away from me.
“You going to be okay?” Concern was etched on his face.
“I’m fine.” I gave a small smile.
“Sure you don’t need help getting dressed, Emma?” A wolfish smile spread across his face.
I rolled my eyes and gave a small push.
“Thanks,” I said dryly. “I think I can manage.”
“Well, I’ll be here if you do. Think I’ll just sleep here since I’ve had a few.”
With that, he was gone. The door quietly shut behind him.
As I dressed and climbed into bed, I pondered the day. Gavin was proving to be the complete opposite of the man I knew him to be, but then all those years at prep school couldn’t be wrong. He had done just about anything to claw his way to the top. The real question was what had knocked him down? A person didn’t just stop going to a top school without a very good reason, especially someone like Gavin, who could buy his way out of just about anything. It just didn’t make sense.
I sighed and let my thoughts drift as I slipped into a deep sleep.
Chapter Three
The next few days passed without so much as a word from Gavin. Not that I cared. There were so many things to do before classes started. Buy books. Work out my path to the main grounds and estimated time it took to get there. I had even planned on where I would spend my down time. Yes, that makes me anal, but I like to be organized.
It annoyed me that despite not wanting to think about him, my mind was constantly wandering to him, someone who had spared me little more than a glance over the years of knowing him. His family suddenly seemed like a large part of my life. Looking back over my friendship with Grace, it was surprising how many things I could remember Gavin being a part of. Usually sullen and off to the side, but there nevertheless.
Through all these years he had been there, and it was like I never really noticed him. Or maybe, he never really wanted me to notice him. That seemed so odd, but there didn’t seem to be another explanation for it.
The night before my first day at college, I lay in bed thinking of Gran. I liked to think that she would be proud of me for getting as far as I had, but then, she would have been proud of me no matter what. No, she would have been proud that I was doing it my way.
Gran had been a proud woman who never really let the money she inherited sway how she dealt with life. This had always annoying to my mother. Climbing the social ladder had always been top of the list for her. The two had constantly butted heads when she was at home. Gran wanted mom to have more in life than just a marriage. Mom had done what she wanted and, well, we know how wonderful that turned out.
If it weren’t for Gran I might actually wonder if there had been some mix-up at the hospital. Well that and I was the spitting image of my mother.
I wrinkled my nose. I had been the spitting image of her prior to the nose job. Groping in the dark, I sought out my nose. Small and slightly upturned, it had just the right slope to it. Or at least I thought it did. It was Gran’s nose, and there was nothing wrong with that.
I pictured her old wrinkled perfect face as I drifted off to sleep.
* * *
The alarm came entirely too early, and I cursed the early morning class that awaited me. At the time it seemed like such a brilliant idea, but in practice it was a skipped class just waiting to happen. Not that I would. My anal retentiveness also bled into my school work. Seeing that this was a literature class, there was even less a chance that I would.
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and jumped out of bed. There was no time to waste. Things had been timed just right, and if I was going to get there early, I needed to stick to the plan.
I slid on the jeans and t-shirt I had planned out the night before. For the first time ever I was getting to wear what I wanted to school. Not that the uniform had been all that bad, but it was nice be able to sit comfortably.
I made my way from the house, forgoing the coffee in the suite to avoid waking up Grace. Glaring at her door, I held myself back from giving it a good kick. She shouldn’t be at fault for my early class, but it would be nice to know she shared my misery.
The walk to class went better than I expected. Mist hung low to the ground and created a nice ambiance as I strolled across the grounds. There were more than a few benefits to having the nice building. It also meant we had the close building. Had to hand it to Mrs. Locke, she sure knew how to pick a place.
I sated my need for something caffeinated at a coffee cart on the way. The warm brew sent a jolt through me, and I was glad to have the burst of energy. Working my ways through the halls, I made my way to the lecture hall. The doors stood wide open and seemed to welcome all.
I scanned the class from the top of the stairs and sighed. Still early enough that I could pick the seat I wanted. Grace always mocked m
y seat choice, but there really was a method to my madness. Third row in the middle. Close enough to hear everything and engage but not close enough that I’m the first person they see. I always hated that feeling of when an instructor asks you questions and you feel obliged to answer because you are the first person they see. Just not my favorite situation.
I took my seat and readied for class.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone dropped in the seat beside me and tossed an arm around the back of my chair.
“Excuse me,” I started and turned. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Gavin grinned widely at me. He was freshly showered and had once again changed into a new pair of jeans and black t-shirt. The sight of him so early in the morning knocked me a bit. One person just shouldn’t be so dazzling.
“Women’s Lit. At eight-thirty.” He leaned back with ease, his lean body flexing as he did.
“Aren’t you a business major?” I ground out.
“Everyone needs two English classes.” He shrugged. “This one was early in the day and met the requirement.” The wolfish grin slipped back into place. The dimple on the side facing me puckered. I sighed. There was just something about a dimple.
“Of course, it didn’t hurt that Grace mentioned you’d be taking an early morning lit class.”
I turned sideways in a huff. I really did need to talk to Grace.
“How’s your knee and hand?”
I held my hand out in front of me and looked at the fading red marks.
“Hand is nearly better, but the knee is still a little tender.” I rubbed the spot just to ease the ache.
His gentle hand on my knee stilled all thoughts. His warm caress massaged the tender flesh around the knee cap. I moaned when his thumb pressed harder against a knot. A blush spread across my chest when his hand snapped away as if it had been burned.
Several students near us had turned to look at me when I moaned, and my face flamed more.
The room fell into silence as the professor entered the room. He was far younger than I imagined he might be, even looked like he was fresh out of school.
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