Slow Grind (Men of Mornington Book 1)

by Missy Johnson

  “Can I help you?” I ask the next time I see his gaze drift to my knees.

  “What?” he chokes out, pulling his eyes back to the road.

  “You keep looking at my legs. Did I miss a spot shaving or something?” I ask sarcastically. I’d say one of the best things about spending your teenage years in a big city like New York, you learn a lot about the opposite sex: how to deal with catcalling and owning your body. I wear the clothes I wear because I’m comfortable in them, even if some people think they’re a little too risqué for everyday attire. And even with the looming crush I harbored for Drew as a kid, I love that I can be blunt and honest and even call him out on his creeper stare.

  “I didn’t realise I was doing it. I’m sorry.”

  “They’re great legs.” I grin. “I might be a little pissed if you weren’t looking.”

  “You can’t say shit like that to me, Aubrey,” Drew chokes out, and the old feelings I used to feel when he would look at me, even though he didn’t really see me, resurface.

  “He’s right, Aubrey. You can’t say shit like that to him,” Max chimes in from the backseat. I straighten in my seat, feeling uncomfortable like I did when my dad caught my ex-boyfriend and me making out in the living room during summer break last year. There’s something awkward about family catching you out in such a personal situation.

  “Christ, Max. Thought you were asleep.”

  “I was resting my eyes, little sister. I wasn’t resting my ears. At least I can count on Drew to be on his best behaviour. It must just be you I need to keep tabs on.”

  “I was just joking.” I laugh nervously.

  “Uh huh. Sure you were,” Max chastises.

  I look over at Drew and mouth ‘sorry.’ He smiles in response and glances at my legs again, knowing I can’t say anything about it this time. With a sly wink and lazy grin, he goes back to exclusively watching the road and I quickly realise playfully flirting with Drew isn’t going to lead anywhere good, especially since he’s won the first round.

  Needing to break up the tension, I pull out my phone and text Jacey, hoping she’s awake at this hour. If it’s a little after noon here, it’s the middle of the night in New York. My only saving grace is going to be if she’s out partying or up studying.

  Me: I miss your face.

  I set the phone in my lap and stare out the front window, refusing to make eye contact with Drew. I feel Max’s gaze burning a hole in the back of my head, but I still ignore it. The feeling ebbs when my phone starts vibrating.

  Jacey: More than you’ll know. Why are you up so late?

  Me: I’m like 14 hours ahead of you, Jay. It’s Wednesday already.

  Jacey: I keep forgetting LOL

  Me: Are you studying or partying?

  Jacey: Neither. I’m talking Nate off a ledge. The kid misses you and it’s only been a few days.

  Me: Oh gosh. Tell him to get a grip and go fuck someone else.

  Jacey: I even offered a pity fuck, but he wasn’t having it.

  Me: Careful. The guy catches feelings quicker than a woman.

  Jacey: It’s kind of cute how much he loves you.

  Me: It’s kind of cute how I don’t care. He needs to stop. I have over a dozen missed calls and twenty texts.

  Jacey: Give the guy a break. He’s in lurve. What are you doing?

  Me: Kidnapping my brother from the grips of my mother’s house. We’re heading back to his place.

  Jacey: Can he even drive? I know you can’t LOL

  It’s true. I never got a driver’s licence. It wasn’t really needed in New York, where you travel by taxis or subway. I also never had the chance to get one in Australia, since I left when I was twelve. I’d have no idea how to operate a vehicle on the wrong side of the road. Or is it the right side? Who the hell knows.

  Me: Drew’s driving.

  Jacey: Drew? THE Drew? How’s he looking?

  Me: Better than he should.

  Jacey: Show me!!!

  Debating how I can get a picture of Drew without coming off weird, I pause my text session with Jacey to think about it a little. Then, genius hits.

  “Hey, guys, take a picture with me so I can send it to Jacey back home. She misses me and doesn’t know what you look like.”

  “This is your home, Aubrey,” Max pouts in the back seat.

  “I know, still… Please? Look, we’re at a stoplight. Get in here, Max.” I lean into Drew, he leans into me, and Max sits up. When we’re all in the frame, I stick my tongue out, and the guys smile. Click. Perfect. I load the picture into the messages and hit send. It’s a few minutes before Jacey responds.

  Jacey: Well, shit. He’s a god!!!!!

  Me: He’s something, all right.

  Jacey: And the hottie in the back seat? That’s Max?

  Me: Knock it off, that’s my brother, dude.

  Jacey: He’s cute. And I’ve always wanted to be your sister.

  I have to pause again; this time, because I’m suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. Will Max ever get the chance to get married? Have kids? Live a real life? I swallow down the uncertainty and continue texting.

  Me: You go back to pity fucking Nate. We’re almost to Max’s. I’ll text you later.

  Jacey: Love you, buttercup.

  Me: Love you back.

  I put the phone back in my purse as we hit a patch of traffic. This is exactly what I need—more time stuck in a car with a guy who knows I’m feeling him but won’t ever act on it because I’m just little Aubrey, as he so cleverly put it. Resting my head back, I pray for the cars to part and for us to arrive at Max’s sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make time pass any faster, so I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Drew

  Shaking my head, I slam my fist down on the steering wheel, which earns me an odd look from Max. I mutter something about the traffic and keep my eyes on the road. What the fuck has happened to me? When did I become the guy who gets caught checking out a girl? Or more to the point, when did I become the guy who checks out girls and doesn’t even realise it until he’s caught? When did I become so weak?

  I’m sure she thought she had me until Max woke up, but I quickly put an end to that. Aubrey is definitely playing a game I refuse to let her win. At least, that’s what I’m trying damn hard to make myself believe.

  Finally, after an hour stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic, we pull into the garage of Max’s apartment complex. I find a parking spot as close to the lift as I can since Max decided he wasn’t an invalid and could walk a few feet. Stubborn as hell, that guy, but I can’t say I wouldn’t be the same way if the tables were turned.

  “Can you grab my suitcase, please?” Aubrey asks, refusing to meet my eye as we get out of the car.

  “No problem,” I smirk. Pulling her luggage from the boot, I’m surprised she met the maximum weight limit for her flight—the sucker is that heavy. Like, there could be a dead body of a small human in here, and I’m lugging it around just waiting to get caught.

  We walk over to the lift, and Aubrey stabs the up button over and over again like that’s going to hurry the fucker up. I chuckle, and she shoots me a glare, followed by a triumphant grin as the doors swing open as if she had something to do with it. If Max notices the tension between us, he doesn’t mention it. Then again, he looks like he’s using all his energy trying to stay upright.

  When we get up to the fifth floor, Max is obviously out of breath and close to passing out. I knew I should have put my foot down about him using his wheelchair. The hospital gave it to him after his last appointment, but Max being Max refuses to use it. Instead, he busts his arse using up the very little energy he has doing simple things like walking from the lift to his door or using the bathroom. If the cancer doesn’t kill him, his hard-headed ways just might.

  “You doing all right?” Aubrey asks her brother in a soothing tone, reminding me of the way Em talks to me when I’m not feeling well. I love the concern she has for
him. As feisty as the woman she is now, she’s still that same kid who would defend her brother to the end of the world.

  If she’s that same kid deep down inside, then why the hell am I so drawn to her now? I already know the answer. Because she’s not a kid anymore. She’s grown into a stunning, curvy woman, and the mere sight of her makes my cock harden.

  “Yeah, I’m all right—just tired,” Max responds. His voice jolts me back to reality. He tosses the keys to me, and I open the door, holding it open for the siblings to walk through first. I don’t bother hiding my amusement as she’s forced to slide her body against mine to get past. It’s less amusing when Max has to do it, too.

  Pushing Aubrey’s suitcase through the door, I shut and lock it behind me. One look at Max and I know he needs to lie down. I glance at Aubrey, but she’s watching her brother, concerned.

  “Let’s get you to bed, mate,” I suggest, taking his hand.

  “Out of all the people I thought would try and get me into bed, you’re the last,” he teases, and I crack a smile. Not even cancer can take away his sense of humor. He takes his hand from mine and slaps me on the back. “I’m not dead yet, mate. I can handle this myself, okay?”

  Max takes off down the hall toward his bedroom, hollering behind him to not bother him unless the building’s on fire. I laugh and flop down on the couch. Aubrey sits down next to me and rests her head back on the cushion, releasing a loud sigh.

  “He’s gonna be all right, isn’t he?” she asks me as if I have all the answers.

  I wish I did.

  “You know he is, Aubs. If anyone can pull through this, it’s Max.” I say it for my benefit as much as I do for hers. “Hey, Sam has an idea. Let me show you.” I pull the piece of paper he gave me the day before from my wallet. Aubrey’s probably good at all that research stuff. She’ll be much better at finding out all the details we need to know to get Max on this trial. “Sam thinks Max will be a perfect fit. They’re looking for adult males, between twenty-five and thirty, Hodgkin’s lymphoma, previous cancer survivor. I’m not sure a better experimental treatment could have been created. It has Max’s name written all over it.”

  Aubrey reaches down and pulls a laptop from her backpack, as well as a pair of black-rimmed glasses, and fires the computer up. “Do you know the Wi-Fi password here?” she asks. She glances up, waiting for me to answer. It takes me a minute to form words. She was all legs and ass a few moments ago, but now she’s got those sexy frames on her face and hair piled atop her head, giving off some serious, sexy librarian look.

  “Yes,” I answer, my face going warm.

  “And … it is…?” she presses.

  “Assman69,” I state and look away.

  “Are you kidding me? That’s my brother’s Wi-Fi password? Assman69?”

  “Yes,” I mumble. She throws back her head and laughs, a sound that makes my heart jump. I wince. Since when does a chick make my heart do anything?

  “Do boys ever evolve into men? Or is that just a fallacy they teach you in school?”

  “I think I’m too biased to answer that honestly.”

  She shakes her head and types in the ridiculous password. I don’t have the balls to tell her I was the one who changed the password in an attempt to prank Max a few months ago. I may be twenty-seven years old, but I sure don’t act my age.

  Her fingers fly across the keyboard as she searches out any and all information she can find about this program in Europe. Maybe I did something right when I gave her the paper; she’s doing a far better job than I ever would have. The determination in her eyes is powerful as they scan each word on the screen. I can’t stop staring when she starts chewing on her bottom lip as her focus hones further in on whatever it is that she’s found. It almost gives me chills. She’s looking for any bit of hope that Max might beat this.

  “This is amazing, Drew,” she breathes, glancing up at me. “Have you looked into this at all?”

  “Yeah, Sam and I talked about it yesterday,” I lie, not wanting to admit I’m not great with computers. I can search for porn like an expert. After that, my skills are limited to updating my Facebook status and checking my email.

  “Has Max seen it?” she asks, furrowing her brows.

  I shake my head. “We didn’t want to get his hopes up until we knew if it was something we could pull off or not. It’s expensive, Aubs, like real expensive. That’s kind of what Sam and I wanted to talk to you about.” I hesitate. “Your trust.”

  “You know I can’t touch it until I’m twenty-five. Same as Max.” She frowns with her statement and blows out a puff of air. “I couldn’t even borrow against it to buy an apartment in New York. My dad couldn’t even sign on it with me.”

  “Do you think there’s any way around the way it’s set up? For emergencies?”

  “No. If there were, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You know I would. Our grandparents were very specific when they left the money to us in their will. They knew our parents were not in the best of places financially and didn’t want either of them to be able to bully us into giving them any of the money left specifically for us to start our lives after college. It was really smart, but right now, it sucks so bad.”

  “Fuck. Maybe your parents?” I ask hopefully. Maybe Sam was wrong and good old Frank can swing this.

  “How expensive are we talking, Drew?”

  “Sam put the numbers around a hundred grand,” I admit.

  “Fuck,” she hisses. “That’s more than expensive. That’s out of reach. There’s no way we can get that kind of cash.” She closes the laptop and carefully sets it on the table. Pushing her glasses up her face to rest at the mess of dark blonde hair on her head, she sighs loudly.

  “We just need to put our heads and our bank accounts together,” I say reassuringly, refusing to give up. “I know nobody has that much money just lying around, but if we work together, I’m sure we can think of something.”

  “Think of what?” Aubrey says, throwing her hands up, frustrated and defeated. “Short of me selling my body, there’s nothing. Do you know the going rate for dick sucking these days? I bet I’d have to swallow a lot of cocks to even put a dent in that number,” she jokes, and I swallow hard.

  “You don’t swallow cock, Aubs. You swallow what spurts out of them,” I say with a chuckle, but she doesn’t find it as funny as I do, obviously.

  She glares at me and my grin disappears. Unfortunately, the restriction in my pants doesn’t. It wasn’t enough with the legs, the arse, and the glasses; now she’s gotta talk about sucking dick? God help me.

  “Aubs, forget it. I highly doubt Max would let you whore yourself out for money to spend on an experimental treatment. Or any treatment for that matter.” I don’t mention that neither will I. There’s no way in hell she’s going to be out there doing any of that.

  “Okay, so prostitution isn’t going to do it.” Her eyes gleam, and I groan, wondering what insane idea she’s going to come out with next. “I can dance. That was my major. I may not be the sexiest woman out there, but I’ve got some moves. I am the reigning Kappa Queen of the Dance Floor … two years running.” She appears proud with her silly title, and I’m having a hard time not imagining her sexy hips swirling with the beat to just about any song I can think of.

  I’m saved by the bell when my phone starts ringing in my pocket, allowing me to put the idea of a naked Aubrey grinding a pole in the back of my mind. Glancing at the screen, Emma’s name shines brightly, as does the smile that crosses my lips.

  “Little monster,” I answer, and Aubrey starts bouncing on the cushion next to me.

  “Put it on speaker!” she whispers excitedly.

  “Fine. Calm your tits,” I tell her, cutting Emma off to find the proper button.

  “What do you think? Should I ask her on a date? I should, right?” Emma continues with whatever it is she’s calling me about.

  “Emmerson!” Aubrey drawls, snatching the phone from my hand.

  “Aubriella? Is that you
?” The animosity my sister held the day before is no longer present in her tone. I knew she was all talk—Emma and Aubrey are like peanut butter and jelly. Sure, you can have one without the other, but nothing else would ever complement each other like those two. Just like that, they’re back to being best friends without skipping a beat.

  “Is there another woman who calls you Emmerson? I’ll cut her.”

  “You’re it for me, babe. I heard you were back. How’s everything in New York? How’s Nate? I miss you. We’re long overdue for some girl time.” Who the hell is Nate? Max never mentioned Aubrey was dating anyone, or maybe he did and it didn’t register.

  “New York is New York. Nate’s history, probably being pity fucked by Jacey. Long story. I’ll tell you over drinks? Later tonight?”

  “Yes. I know just the spot. I emceed a party a few weeks ago, and this bar is exactly what we need. Sexy guys, great music and a never-ending flow of booze.” She curses loudly. “Oh, wait. I can’t tonight. I have a gig.”

  “What was it you were calling for, Em?” I interrupt and try to take back the phone, but Aubrey lifts her arm above her head.

  “It doesn’t even matter. No time to be taking other women on dates when my Aubriella is back in town. What are you guys doing?”

  “I’m thinking about being a stripper to earn some fast cash so Max can get in this trial thing Sam found. Wanna be a stripper with me? Girl on girl has gotta pay more, right?”

  Having enough with this conversation, I stand up and hover over Aubrey until she sighs and hands the phone back to me. My sister laughs uncontrollably, and I try to calm her down, but being a stripper is apparently on her bucket list. When she and Aubrey start yelling back and forth about stripper names, I quickly end the call and glare at Aubrey.

  “There’s no way you’re taking off your clothes for money, let alone dragging my little sister into it,” I growl.

  “How else are we going to raise the cash?” she asks, her tone matching mine. “Until you come up with a better idea—”