“It’s not like that Brody. You know she’s just a warm body when I need a distraction.” I need to change the subject and fortunately my rescuer arrives at our table in form of a petit, dark haired woman that is like a second mother to me. Emma Morgan is one of the nicest women I’ve ever met, a real Southern belle, but get on her bad side and she’ll make your life difficult. We always laugh at Coach Morgan when he’s had a fight with his wife – he storms into the locker rooms and mumbles incoherently about marrying a woman like his mother. But he adores his wife and both his daughters. He’s the kind of man I wish I could be. Maybe someday.
“Hey Mrs. Coach,” I tease affectionately, knowing how much she hates it when we call her that. She swats my arm playfully with a dishtowel and chuckles. “You boys better be behaving over here!”
“Of course we are Mrs. Coach, we’re the most well behaved boys on the team,” Brody quips. He’s lying. We both know how much shit we’re capable of getting ourselves into, especially when we team up. We’ve been partners in crime for what feels like forever.
“Can I get you boys the usual? Bacon, eggs, french fries and coffee?”
“Yes please ma’am,” Brody and I respond in unison, causing us to laugh. She smiles at us affectionately for a brief second and then saunters off to place our order.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Brody’s expression harden suddenly, his playful disposition evaporating in the blink of an eye. “Well if it isn’t the she-devil herself,” he barks. I turn to look at who he’s talking about and immediately regret my decision when Rebecca walks through the door. Her fiery red hair flicks over her shoulders as she sashays her way toward our table. Her hips sway and her signature sneer sits firmly on the edges of her ruby red lips. She’s gorgeous but the problem is she knows it. She flaunts it, uses it to manipulate the people around her. She uses her body for that too and as much as I hate to admit it, Rebecca was a real hell cat between the sheets. Our ‘relationship’ was purely physical and until now I still hadn’t been with anyone who could get my body to react the way she did.
I notice how the normal physical reaction I have when I look at her isn’t there anymore. Yup, it’s time to move on. Love ‘em and leave ‘em I always say.
She stops at our table and glares at Brody. “Ha, that was almost a good one Brody, come up with that all on your own?” she snaps. She turns her attention to me and I stiffen. “Hey babe!” she drawls. “Why didn’t you call me last night? I missed you.” Her voice goes from virulent to syrupy sweet in less than a heartbeat. I never noticed before and if I’m being honest I hate it. She bites her lip and traces her long nails up my arm suggestively. I’m waiting for my dick to stir, a tell-tale sign that her flirty little moves turn me on.
But there’s nothing. Not even a twitch.
“I was busy Rebecca.” My voice is cold and flat and I know I’m being an asshole but it’s time to end this. I didn’t sign up for a girlfriend and certainly not a possessive one at that, which Rebecca knew from the start. I should’ve known she’d get attached, they always do.
I hear her say something but it falls away when my eyes land on someone else. My breath catches in my throat and it’s like all time is standing still, freezing this moment before it flies past too quickly. Nothing else exists.
Her blonde hair is pulled up high in a messy bun with a few loose tendrils hanging in her face. She’s wearing a white sundress that compliments her sun kissed skin and red cowboy boots that make her legs look they go on forever. God have mercy… those legs… My mind goes straight to conjuring up images of seeing her in nothing but those red boots.
Damn…
I don’t think Blondie could get any hotter but then she proves me wrong when she laughs, a light choral sound that echoes through every bone in my body and settles itself in the core of my stomach. I am completely transfixed, my eyes following her every move until she disappears into the kitchen.
“Hello, Grayson? Are you listening to me?” Rebecca’s screech is like a cold shower. My heartbeat slows, returning to its normal rhythm and everything around me comes back into focus. “Yeah Rebecca, he heard you! But he was too busy checking out Huntley Morgan to give a shit about what comes out of that mouth of yours,” Brody growls. I inwardly curse myself, not for staring but for doing it so shamelessly. But I couldn’t help it. My eyes were drawn to her like magnets and I wouldn’t have been able to look away even if I wanted to. I’m a hot blooded male after all and when God makes something that perfect, its only right to show some appreciation for His handy work.
Wait, did Brody say her name is Huntley Morgan? How the hell does he know who she is?
Rebecca huffs and storms off to her friends’ table while Brody snickers. He finds this situation hilarious. “Thanks Bro,” I snap, irritated. “Now I’m never going to hear the end of it.” Not that I care. “Whatever, it’s time someone put that she-devil in her damn place. She doesn’t own you Gray. You yourself said she was nothing more than a warm body and last time I checked that did not equate to girlfriend status.”
I can’t argue with that. He’s right.
“How do you know her name anyway?” I ask sounding a little too eager, even to my own ears. My curiosity has gotten the better of me. Her name alone has piqued my interest. Brody takes a second to realize who I’m talking about and then looks me dead in the eye while formulating his response. His mouth pulls up into half a grin and I know I’m caught. It’s the first time in two years that I’ve shown a real interest in a girl. I stop myself from thinking about it though.
Don’t go there Gray… You need to move on…
“Mrs. Coach introduced us when I got here. She’s the niece Coach has warned us all to stay away from.” There’s a warning in his eyes. “So be nice Gray, but don’t be whipping out that entire home grown Southern charm all at once. She’s not just another freshman you can toy with.” I grin. No girl has ever been able to resist my ‘home grown Southern charm’.
The kitchen door swings open and Huntley heads straight for our table. I watch how her dress flows with the movement of her legs, hitting her just above the knee. The closer she gets the further up my gaze travels, ending on her face when she stops in front of us. “Here you go, two coffees,” she says, placing our coffees on the table. “Your food will be out in a minute.” She smiles at me and Brody clears his throat. I’m gawking like an idiot. When Brody kicks me under the table I snap out of the stupor and gingerly smile back at her. “Thanks” is all I manage to say since my voice has pulled a Houdini on me. How convenient.
“Huntley, this is Grayson,” Brody says, waving his arm in my direction. “He’s our star quarterback and my pain in the ass best friend.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Huntley.” She sticks her hand out and I take it. My hand looks gigantic in comparison and envelopes hers easily. “So you’re the brat Coach has been talking about non-stop,” I tease, glad to have returned to my confident self. The slight blush in her cheeks is barely noticeable but hell it’s so cute. “Promise me you won’t believe everything he tells you,” she whispers. “I’m not half the trouble he makes me out to be.” She’s being playful.
“We’ll have to see about that sweetheart.” I’m doing everything Brody told me not to and laying my Southern charm on thick, even accentuating my drawl a little more. Her cheeks redden a little more and she turns to look at Brody. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with your food,” she repeats. Brody smiles at her and we watch her leave.
“Well well, the last time I saw you get all tongue-tied and breathless like that over a girl was when you met Haley.” The mention of my ex girlfriends’ name makes my entire body go rigid. I haven’t spoken about her or seen her again since she cheated on me in our freshman year and skipped town. That was two years ago. That’s not all she did I remind myself.
I scowl at him. “Brody, don’t.”
He shrugs. “Just callin’ it like I see it.”
Before our conversation can co
ntinue, Huntley exits the kitchen and starts towards us. Thank God our food is done, I’m starving and hopefully Brody will shut up while we eat. I hate that the mere mention of Haley’s name can put me in such a foul mood so quickly. Obviously I’m not as over it as I thought. Maybe if cheating on me was all she did then I’d be over it. But it wasn’t and what followed was a long string of random hook-ups to try numb the pain. She left me when I needed her the most. It was the hardest time of my life.
I drag myself away from my vehement thoughts and instead of turning to look at Huntley, I finding Rebecca’s angry glare. She’s shooting daggers at Huntley but when she sees me watching her, the expression changes into something more sinister, evil. What the hell is up with that? Brody wasn’t lying when he said Rebecca was the she-devil incarnate. She had a nasty jealous streak and an imperceptible cruelty about her.
I should’ve known what would happen next. I should’ve expected it.
Rebecca sticks her leg out slightly and catches Huntley by the foot. The tray flies into the air and before I can think twice about what I’m doing my feet start moving towards the accident-in-progress. The plates and coffee cups join the tray and come crashing down with a deafening clatter. I grab Huntley by the waist and catch her before she can hit the ground. Her head snaps up and she’s looking at me like a deer caught in headlights. I notice then that her eyes are the most incredible shade of indigo. But it’s their depth and lucidity that surprise me, like they would be able to see right through me if given the chance.
Get a damn grip Grayson.
“Oh my God, are you retarded or just clumsy by nature?” Rebecca snaps. There’s a cold edge to her tone and I’ve only seen her use it when she’s threatened by someone. Huntley whips her head back towards Rebecca but doesn’t say anything. “Oh, so I guess you're just clumsy then.” Rebecca is taunting her, kind of like how a cat sometimes plays with its’ food before eating it. God she’s a bitch.
Huntley yanks herself free from my grip and scrambles to pick up the mess on the floor. The girls at Rebecca’s table say nothing; instead they sit there and laugh, like their Queen Bee had nothing to do with what just happened. Mrs. Coach steps closer to Huntley and whispers something in her ear. I catch a glimpse of her tear-filled eyes and that’s all it takes. “Rebecca, why do you have to be such a bitch? I saw you trip her on purpose!” I growl. She has the audacity to look embarrassed, but only because she got caught. “What are you talking about Grayson? I didn’t do anything.” The lie falls so easily from her lips and I mentally castigate myself for ever getting involved with such a cruel person. “You’re such a liar!” I roar, making her flinch. I should feel bad for getting so angry with her but I’m not even sure why I am. Maybe it was my conversation with Brody earlier about Haley.
Yeah, that’s it. A single mention of her name and I’m ready to flip the fuck out. It’s not Rebecca’s fault but hell, she had no right to humiliate Huntley like that. And for what? I know the answer, the realization only adding to my misplaced anger. Rebecca saw me talking to Huntley. Before she has a chance to respond Brody grabs my arm and slowly pulls me away from the chaos. “Let me go,” I snarl, trying to loosen his vice grip on my bicep. I need to see if Huntley is ok. I hate that Rebecca made her cry. As if sensing my intention Brody shakes his head, “Just leave it Grayson, don’t get involved man. It’s just Rebecca being Rebecca. She wants to see you flip out.”
“It’s my fault,” I say, feeling somewhat calmer. Brody has that effect on me. He knows when I’m about to lose my shit. “Rebecca saw me talking to Huntley.” Guilt settles in my chest.
“Bro, I haven’t seen you react that way in years, let alone defend a girl you’ve only just met.” He’s eyes are questioning and I feel myself wondering the same thing. Why did I feel the need to defend Huntley, protect her?
By now the mess is cleared and people seem to have forgotten about it, resuming their conversations like it never happened. I know Rebecca is staring at me but I don’t care. I’m done with her. “I think we should get out of here. The guys are already on their way to the lake,” Brody says, lowering his voice. He’s about to leave when I see Huntley walk out of the bathroom. Her eyes are puffy and her face is red. I find myself wanting to fold her tiny body in my arms and comfort her. The thought takes me by complete surprise and leaves me baffled. Perplexed. I look back at Brody and he nods once, walking out the door.
“Are you ok?” I ask Huntley, meeting her in the middle of the bakery. She looks a little surprised and I don’t blame her. “I’m fine,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. “Thank you for catching me.”
I nod. “I’m sorry. Rebecca did that because of me.” And I will talk to her about that, but now’s not the time. Huntley looks confused by my apology but doesn’t say anything. After a few seconds of awkward silence I pay the bill and leave, but not before I turn to take one last look at Huntley’s tear-stained face. In that moment I realize that calling her hot is an insult. She’s beautiful. Earth-shattering, life-changing, mind-blowing beautiful.
My mind is in overdrive and my behavior makes no sense, to the extent that it seems irrational and maybe even illogical.
Huntley Morgan is a problem.
One I’m going to have a hard time ignoring.
Chapter 3
~ Huntley ~
I toss my keys onto the table by the door and let out a huff. What a day. I’ve been here for two months already and it was by far one of the worst days. I started it off like I do every Saturday – working at Aunt Emma’s bakery. It’s something I’ve come to love. Until today.
The sound of my phone ringing makes my jump and I grab it out of my bag before I miss the call. I fall onto the couch and slide my finger across the screen to answer. Of course it’s my friend Demi. We met during freshman orientation in one of our psychology classes and hit it off. Strangely enough I felt at ease with her immediately, something that still boggles my mind. I have a hard time letting people in and Demi seems to be the first exception. I’m still cautious though. After what my last best friend did to me I’m wary about the people I allow close to me.
“Hey girly,” Demi’s sing-song voice chimes through the phone and I smile. I like her.
“Hey Dem! I thought you were coming over later for ice-cream and really bad rom coms?” I ask. We made plans last week for a girls’ night at my apartment after Demi decided she needs a night away from her boyfriend, Tommy.
“That’s why I’m calling girl, I’m so sorry to have to cancel. Tommy went to Lake Dixon with the rest of the boys and called me a few minutes ago asking me to go get him. He’s too drunk to drive. Again.” She sighs and I can hear the exasperation in her voice. This is almost a weekly occurrence. If Uncle Alex knew what his boys got up to he’d literally shit a brick. That’s probably why they do it at Lake Dixon, it’s a half hour drive outside of town.
“Do you need me to go with you?”
“Oh would you mind? I hate making the drive on my own,” she says. I would also hate making the drive on my own. I wonder why Tommy would be so stupid to get drunk when he knows he’s got to drive himself home.
“I would feel better if you didn’t go on your own. Come get me in 20.”
She breathes a sigh of relief and says, “You are awesome!! I will totally make it up to you. Besides, you need to tell me what happened at the bakery today.”
I frown. How did she know about that? It only happened a few hours ago. I swear nothing gets past this girl.
“Do you mean with Rebecca?”
“Well yes, but I also want to know what the hell happened with Grayson! But you can fill me in on the way to the lake. I’ll see you in 20 girl.” She ends the call before I can gather my wits.
What does she mean what happened with Grayson? Nothing did happen. All he did was catch me before I face planted into the bakery floor. It feels weird admitting to myself that his grip was a little tighter than I would expect from a stranger. Although Grayson Carter isn’t really a stranger.
I know all about him and his less than spectacular reputation around here. The only place he seems to behave is on the field, or so I’m told. Before today he was a myth to me.
Before I can get caught up in analyzing him and today’s events, my phone dings signaling a text.
Demi: I’m outside. Move your caboose.
I giggle at her old school word for “ass” and rush downstairs to her car after locking up. I see her head of brown curls bobbing up and down to some country song before I see her tiny body. She looks miniature behind the wheel of her red Lexus.
She grins at me as I slide into the passenger seat and doesn’t even wait for me to put my seat belt on before she hits the accelerator. I’m not a nervous passenger but Demi is an adrenaline junkie when it comes to speed. And her car isn’t slow.
“Spill,” she says, turning the volume down on her radio. “Brody told me that bitch Rebecca tripped you after she saw Grayson talking to you.”
“What?” I say confused. “Is that what Brody said?”
She rolls her eyes and raises her eye brows like I’m supposed to know this. In the short time I have known Demi, I quickly learned a few of her tells, eye rolling being her most popular.
“Why would she do that? I was taking Grayson’s order and he introduced himself.” It sounds silly, like we’re back in high school.
“Rebecca is a few screws short of a picnic. She’s mean and crazy jealous, especially when it comes to Grayson, which is stupid because they’re friends with benefits minus the friends. But clearly Psycho Barbie didn’t get that memo,” Demi says, the vehemence in her voice clear as day.
“Well all I did was take his order. I honestly didn’t know it would upset her.” It took me an hour to calm down I was so embarrassed. The way Grayson looked at me didn’t help. Suddenly I remember Demi wanted to know what happened with him.
“But tell me what happened with Grayson,” she urges. No wonder she knows everything about everyone, she can read minds. I roll my eyes wondering how the hell I’m going to get her to understand that nothing happened with Grayson.
Beneath Your Beautiful Page 2