Unwrapping Ainsley
(Project Runway Book 1)
Gianni Holmes
Proofreading by Barb Ingram
All Hearts on Deck © Gianni Holmes
All Rights Reserved
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic, in whole or in part, without expressed written permission. This is excluding brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental in nature.
Warning
This book contains material that is intended for a mature adult audience. It contains graphic language and explicit sexual content.
This book is dedicated to my family. We are not perfect, and we can be a little dysfunctional, but there’s nobody else I’d rather spend the holiday with than you.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter-Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Family is where life begins and love never ends.
Unknown
Prologue
Ainsley
5 years ago
The second my best friend Rachel raised her eyes to meet mine, I was sorry I had shown her the note. I should have known she wouldn’t have been happy for me. She was always good at thinking up worst case scenarios. Staring into her eyes, I could already sense the things she was going to say, and I didn’t want to hear them. I was tired of the pessimism. Tired of being told what I couldn’t have. Well, I wanted Joey Santini, and I was damn well going after him.
“Don’t say anything.” I snatched the note Joey had passed me just before we walked out of our Trig class and held it like my pot of gold. “I’m going, and that’s final.”
“Come on, Ainsley,” she said softly, her tone belying the cruelty in the words I knew was coming. “I know you’ve had a crush on him like forever, but he’s only using you. First, it was to get you to do his assignments, now this?”
The way she said ‘this’ caused my face to turn red. Now I truly regretted showing her the note. Nobody else needed to know Joey wanted to make out with me in the janitor’s closet. If only I had kept my big mouth shut, I could have made excuses for not eating lunch with her today.
“Joey and I have been getting to know each other,” I said, frowning at Rachel as I rose to my feet. “Trig isn’t the only thing we do when we’re at his house studying for an exam.”
“Because you make it easy for him,” she replied, her eyes pleading me to understand what I would not accept. “Where do you think those rumors started that you were the Easy A for the football team?”
Hurt, I glared at her. “It’s not the friggin’ football team. Just him.” I placed a hand on my plump hip. “Just admit it, Rach. You don’t like the fact that Joey is into me. Why is it so hard to believe anyway? What? You think I’m too fat and unattractive to get someone like that?”
“I-of course-that’s not what I’m saying,” she strangled out, but it was telling the way she had to look away to avoid meeting my eyes. The fact that she felt this way about me hurt more than anything else. She was supposed to be my friend, and here she was, feeding into my insecurities.
“Well, you can go to hell,” I snapped at her, blinking at the tears that filled my eyes. “It’s not my fault nobody’s interested in you. Perhaps if you stopped being such a pessimist, you’d find someone who likes you too.”
“Ainsley, you’ve got it wrong!”
Except I had gotten it very right. She would never be happy for me, which was sad. We had both met in our weight management class to shed the extra pounds we both carried. Her parents had enrolled her when she had a minor heart attack, and her medical practitioner advised her to be healthier, she would need to lose the weight.
Without stopping to listen to Rachel, I hurried out of the lunch room, hating the way the seats were close to each other and having to squeeze my way through.
“Watch it, you fat queer!” Carter Graham yelled at me when I side-stepped someone carrying a tray and bumped into him. I quickly sprang back, not looking for any trouble.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, hating the way all eyes turned to me. Still, I wasn’t about to let anyone ruin the day for me, so I took greater care in walking from the cafeteria. Excited, I dropped the note into my top pocket and hurried along the corridor to the janitor’s closet. I had to descend two flights of stairs, and it wasn’t easy doing it and trying to seem nonchalant with my weight.
This floor was empty as it usually was during lunch. Kids either sneaked off campus, congregated in the courtyard, or used the libraries and cafeteria. I shuffled down the corridor until I came upon the unmarked door. It once held the plate advertising it as the janitor’s closet, but students had stolen it, and it had not been replaced.
I took a deep breath, glancing around me before I knocked on the door. “Joey?” His name came out on a breathless sigh.
The door opened from the inside, a hand shot out to grab my lower arm and tug. There was no way he could have hauled me into the closet by himself, so I moved along. He quickly closed the door behind me and stepped back.
For a brief moment, looking at Joey, I had a moment of self-doubt. Joey was a gorgeous seventeen-year-old who had repeated one year of high school. As the linebacker of the varsity football team, he had suffered an injury that had him missing almost a year of school.
Tall, broad-shouldered with silky black hair and suggestive brown eyes, he was easily one of the cutest boys in cool. No, cute was an understatement. He was hotter than the half-naked poster I had hidden under my bed of my favorite male calendar models.
“I almost thought you weren’t coming,” Joey remarked, reaching for his belt buckle. I swallowed at his action, knowing what he wanted. I could already make out the hardness of his cock imprinting the front of his jeans.
“I-I got a little held up,” I replied. “Uh, umm, my friend thinks you’re just using me.”
He scoffed. “The fat bitch is just jealous she’s not the one I’m fucking instead,” he remarked, pushing his pants and underwear down his thighs. The reddened tip of his cock peeked out from beneath his shirt. His eyes were wild with anticipation and excitement.
I chuckled nervously, confused at whether or not he also thought of me as a fat bitch. “Come on. Can’t we talk a little bit before?”
He frowned at me. “We don’t have much time, and I need to eat lunch before the next class. I asked some of the guys to save a seat for me.”
I stepped closer to him. “I- I haven’t eaten yet either. Do you think I could sit with you? I don’t really want to eat alone.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever.”
Elated that I would be able to sit with him for lunch, I had no reason not to give him what he wanted. About five minutes later, still on my knees, he rammed his cock down my throat, pressing my face to his pelvis as I gagged from the jet stream of cum spraying into my mouth. I would have pulled back, but he held me by the hair too tightly, pulling at the roots. Tears popped in the corner of my eyes, and I guzzled down his c
um to prevent myself from choking. There was so much of it.
“Oh fuck!” Joey said on a shudder. His hand dropped from my head, and he gave me a satisfying grin as he reached for his jeans. He nodded at me. “That was fucking good. You’re getting better.”
I flushed under his compliment, my cock throbbing with want, but I knew better than to ask him to return the favor. The one time I had asked him, he had laughed before enlightening me that he was always the one on the receiving end of a blow job. Since he felt that way about blow jobs, I didn't even entertain the thought of me topping him. Not that I wanted to top anyone. I enjoyed getting fucked by Joey too much. I had not even told Rachel Joey had already taken my virginity. She would have only pegged me for an idiot.
“You should go take care of that,” Joey remarked, indicating my erection as he fixed his jeans. “Are you free later?”
My heart skipped a beat. Finally, he was going to ask me out on a proper date. “Uh yeah, I’m free.”
“Good. I’ve an English paper due tomorrow. It can’t be late. Miss Walker’s an uptight bitch. She’d never let me get away with it even when I’m on the football team.”
“Umm, okay.” I tried not to let him see how everything inside me was crumbling. “What time should I pop by?”
He frowned as he walked toward the door, taking care not to touch me. Did I repulse him? “On second thought, I’ll send you a text with the assignment. No sense in you stopping by since the boys will be over tonight.”
And I wasn’t invited. At least he had agreed to save me a seat to eat with him. I perked up at that small victory. Maybe Joey wasn't the easiest boy in school to love, but everything made sense when we were having sex. When we were together intimately, he forgot that I was fat Ainsley. He forgot that I didn't belong in his crowd, and we were able to have magical moments then. If I were patient enough, he would come to love me too.
“I’ll be right…” I trailed off as Joey opened the door and slipped out before I could even finish my statement.
Chapter One
Ainsley
“Well, fuck me sideways!” The words expelled from me as I stood in the waiting area of the airport and stared at the blur of faces and bodies moving all around me. Everybody was rushing by way too fast, and I still didn’t have my bearings from the flight. My head was still back at the Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris. My thumbs hooked in the straps of my fashionable mini-backpack, I lost count of the number of times I was jostled. And I swore I felt someone grope my ass at least once, but by the time I turned around, whoever had done it was already lost in the sea of faces. I ended up glaring at a man whose smile fell as he hastily scrambled away.
I hated airports, but I especially loathed airports around the Christmas holidays. Too many flights, too many people, too much Christmas carols and holiday cheer.
“I’ll take you up on that offer, sweetie. You, me, and a private room. What do you say?”
At the unexpected husky voice over my shoulder, I turned to check if the pervert who had spoken was addressing me. Yup, he was. He grinned at me lasciviously, the gap at the front of his gums where a few teeth were missing a huge turnoff. I would have tried to be nice, but he was stripping me naked right there and doing it so blatantly as well.
I didn’t bother to reign in my Savage as my PA, Thomas would put it. “Sorry, Sweetie.” I stared pointedly at his crotch then back at his face, my smile still in place. “You’d need a lot more than that to handle all of this.”
And because I was definitely not in the mood to exchange words with someone who thought I was nothing but a walking talking fuck hole, I stalked off with as much dignity as I could, in my four-inch heels, dragging my carry-on behind. I’d crammed as much as I could in my carry-on but could not avoid the queasy feeling in my gut that I had left something important behind. Or perhaps that horrid feeling came from the fact that I was visiting home for the first time in the past three years, and I was doing so sans the fiancé I had bragged about to my older sister. My blabbermouth sister Nicky who would have shared the news with everyone else by now.
Screw your hot ass Cameron Spooner! I hated him even more because, even after pleading with him to keep up the charade of being my boyfriend for the week I was visiting my parents, he had turned me down. That was the last time I’d be stupid enough to fall for a guy in the adult entertainment industry. I’d learned my lesson that men of my fantasies should screw me only in my fantasies. In real life, they made too much of a mess.
Spotting a charging station with an available port, I broke into a run which was really teetering in my heels. I mumbled hasty apologies to no one in particular as I nearly collided with a few people. I scowled at the realization of what I was doing. I wasn’t even back for ten minutes and I was already getting into the polite habit of ‘please, sir’, ‘no, thank you, sir’ and ‘do you want me on all fours, sir?’. Being jostled was pretty much the norm in NYC where I lived, and nobody expected an apology. Back here in Alabama, things were different. I could remember my mother hitting me upside the head so often because she thought I was being impolite.
“Yes!” I crowed in delight when I got to the charging port before anyone else snagged it. My phone battery was dead because I’d spent the entire plane ride scrolling through social media updates. I’d updated my Instagram no less than a dozen times on the plane ride then copied those posts to my Facebook and Snapchat. Afterward, I’d scrolled through my ex’s new posts, seething to find him already coupled with a gorgeous gigolo. I was never jealous of his work sex life. It was his off-the-clock busy sex life that had concerned me. But still, I had stayed with him. After all, he was a guy. Men fucked around all the time. The rest of the ride, I had a mini-meltdown while my PA tried to calm me down.
There were two ports in the center of the table, and one was occupied by an average-looking guy I barely gave a second glance. I released my carry-on and searched my backpack for my charger. I shuffled my beauty supplies around until the white cord caught my attention. It was tangled in my earphones, so I had a bit of a frustrating time untangling the mess. Eventually, I plugged in my phone and rested it on the table.
Spotting my magnifying mirror in my bag, I snagged it and checked that my hair wasn't all over the place. Sometimes I was tempted to hack most of it off and rock a shorter style, but my long chestnut hair was a part of my image. My tousled curls were a bit untidy but not at all unattractive.
“Come on. You should have been here half an hour ago. Where are you?”
I glanced up at the man across from me who seemed to barely notice me. He was intently trying to make a call on his phone and muttering to himself. He looked frustrated, combing his fingers through unkempt hair. Gorgeous black hair, thick, lustrous, but nevertheless unkempt. His hair was the only gorgeous thing about him. His face was rather plain. He was neither unattractive nor attractive. He was one of those guys who had probably been overlooked all his life. I wouldn’t have noticed him if not for him speaking to himself.
Dismissing him, I returned the mirror to my bag and waited for my phone to power on. The backlight shone so it would take another minute or two before I could at least call my sister.
“I should have known this was too good to be true,” the guy across from me mumbled. “Fuck, if I don’t show up at that dinner with someone, I’m never going to hear the end of it. Whose idea was it to date someone online anyway? I should have been smarter than this.”
My ears perked up at that because it seemed the poor guy was in my predicament. I pretended not to listen, but my heart was racing so fast in my chest. At the possibilities. Did I dare? He looked completely harmless. I stole another glance at him. He looked like one of those nice next-door-type of guys. Most serial killers look normal. That’s why they get away with it. Nobody ever suspects them. I watched him unnoticed, sweeping the way he dressed, and I had the feeling I was about to be impulsive. Again.
His phone rang, and mine finally came on, I connected to the airpo
rt’s Wi-Fi and logged onto Twitter. For the first time that I could remember, I scrolled through the newsfeed without registering any of the latest happenings. I was too busy listening in on his phone conversation.
“Yes, Wendy?” he answered his phone. “I’m at the airport.”
Chapter Two
Will
“I’m at the airport,” I growled into the phone, signals going off in my brain that this was all her fault.
“Where are you guys?” she asked, her nasal voice higher than usual. “Is he here yet?”
“Umm, well,” I hesitated, not knowing what to say. How did I tell her the guy I had slipped up and told her about didn’t look like he was going to show? I should have known better than to go on the internet to look for love. How much more cliché could this get? Still, it had seemed better than waiting for my family members to play matchmaker over Christmas. Again. I had barely survived the last holiday after the many guys who had passed through our home.
“Mama is so excited for you,” Wendy continued, filling in where I had created a gap in our conversation. “You know she is always saying that you need to move on with your life. I think Dad is rather relieved we won’t have a bunch of men traipsing in and out of our home this year.”
“They didn’t have to do that last year,” I replied on a groan. While my father had been accepting the second he found out I was gay, last Christmas his discomfort had been evident. I couldn’t blame him though as I had been uncomfortable in the situation as well. I’d felt like a medieval bride being looked over by potential suitors.
“Mama just wants to see you happy,” she replied. “She did the same to me before I met Matt.” Matt was her husband who had been deployed by the army six months ago. She called and came around more often now that he was away.
“But we don’t need to be a part of a couple to be happy.” It did help. My relationship to my late husband, Luke, had been the happiest years of my life. It was little wonder I had no real appetite for dating again since his death. Even four years after. My foray into online dating had been my first attempt to connect with someone. I hadn’t expected it to work since I was aware of all the disadvantages right off the bat, but then I had met LonelyHeart4U, and I thought we connected.
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