Beautiful Series Boxset, books 1-4

by Lilliana Anderson

  Eventually, I took a girl home and realised I’d fucked her before—I’d been with her a few times actually—but I still hadn’t learned her name. I stopped, and told her I couldn’t go through with it, even paid for a cab to take her home. I felt like shit. That was when I decided I was done. I’d had enough of night clubs. I’d had enough of treating women like my own personal harem, picking and choosing them as I saw fit. It was crappy of me, and I hated myself for it. Something needed to change.

  That change is why I’m heading to London. I’ve secured a three month working visa, and I’m going over there for something different. Maybe I’ll find myself again while I’m there. This guy who screws around and sees women as sex toys isn’t me. At least, I don’t think it is… If I’m honest; I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.

  Two

  Paige

  As I walk towards the back of the plane, I feel his eyes on me. It makes my skin prickle with an attraction I don’t want to feel. I pull at my shirt to make sure all my skin is covered.

  Covertly, I glance over my shoulder at the gorgeous fuck who’s still standing in the aisle. He leans forward and rubs the back of his neck with a strong lean arm. He seems the epitome of the perfect man: strong, healthy, and based upon my short interaction with him, he’s been brought up well too. Manners aren’t as common as one would hope.

  I walk until I reach the back of the plane where there's a little alcove with a window. I'm so tired that I rest my forehead against the glass and look out at the nothingness that is the night sky.

  “Hey there,” a deep rumble of a voice says from behind me, I tilt my head to the side, still pressed up against the glass. It’s the guy from my row. Of course it is.

  Sighing, I turn and face him, not saying anything. I just look at him and wait for him to speak. He obviously wants to have a conversation, and I'm doing my best to seem uninterested. I want to get this done and over, as quickly as possible.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he says, putting his hands in his jeans pockets, suddenly looking unsure of himself. “I needed to get away from the noise too.” The corner of his lip tips up as he studies me. I notice his eyes scan the length of my body and automatically fold my arms across my middle protectively, feeling betrayed by my skin when it flushes hot under his gaze.

  “Why would I mind?” I ask him flatly. “It’s not like I own the plane.”

  He gives me what I think might be his most dashing smile, but he still looks unsure of me. “I’m Elliot, by the way,” he says, extending his hand to shake mine.

  My eyes travel down to his outstretched arm. I don’t want to take it. I don’t want to risk touching him. Once, a long time ago, I had a connection with a beautiful man who set my skin on fire with a single touch. That connection ruined my life completely, and I swore I’d never give into attraction again. I just want to live my life alone.

  When I look up at Elliot’s expectant face, his eyes narrow slightly, but he keeps his hand stretched towards me stubbornly.

  Elliot

  “I won’t bite,” I tell her, wiggling my fingers while her brow furrows like she’s warring with something in her mind.

  Hesitantly, she slips her hand into mine and gives me a light squeeze. “Paige,” she says, snatching her hand back as if I’m made of fire. Then she looks past me like she really wishes I’d piss off.

  I smile at her, enjoying the lingering feel of her touch on my hand. This is the first girl I’ve spoken to in a long time that isn’t giggling and flicking her hair the moment I make eye contact. I like it. I don’t think she likes me, but we’ve both got the same problem, so that makes us friends in my opinion.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Paige. But since we can’t hide out back here the entire flight, I have to ask—what are we going to do about Connie McSnores-a-lot back there?”

  A tiny smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, but it doesn’t turn into anything more than that. Surprisingly, I feel disappointed. I want her to smile at me again like she did before.

  “Is her name really Connie?” she asks, completely serious.

  I chuckle and shake my head slightly. “I have no idea. I just made it up, same as the McSnores-a-lot part. As appropriate as it is, that’s not her name either,” I say, as seriously as I can.

  Suddenly, she’s laughing. Her hand flies up and covers her mouth. She’s trying to keep quiet, but her shoulders are shaking and small sounds are escaping as she gasps for breath. “Do you know what I’ve been calling her?”

  I lift my brow in question.

  “Chatty McChatterson.”

  My shoulders bounce as I laugh along with her. “She just wouldn’t shut up, would she? I thought she’d stop when she fell asleep. But then this noise came out of her.” I’m crying again.

  “I thought she was a bear,” she forces around her cackles, holding her stomach as she hunches forward then leans back and wipes her eyes. “Man, I’m heading to delirium from lack of sleep. I just can’t stop thinking how funny it would be if that really was her name.” She shakes her head from side to side, laughing all over again as she leans back up against the side of the plane.

  I’m just standing here with this huge grin on my face watching her eyes sparkle from tears of laughter.

  “Oh God,” she says, pushing her hair back. “It’s not even that funny.”

  “You got a hold of yourself now?” I ask, as she endeavours to stay calm.

  Nodding, she wipes her eyes and stands up straight again taking a deep breath and attempting to look serious. “Maybe we could ask to move seats. I noticed a couple of empty rows in the middle aisle.”

  “I’ll find a flight attendant.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up as she eyes me off, not looking so amused now. I wonder what I’ve done wrong as I walk toward the front of the plane to find someone who can help us.

  Paige

  I feel like rolling my eyes so hard that they do a full 360 loop. This Elliot guy is so aware of how good looking he is that he thinks he can snap his fingers and get whatever he wants. What makes him so sure a girl who looks like a slightly deranged witch can’t get us new seats? I’m not entirely without charm. And I don’t need some guy ‘helping’ me. I’ve never met one who does anything out of the kindness of his heart.

  I pull a hair elastic out of my pocket and quickly twist my mess of hair into a bun before I hurry to catch up to him, feeling like I have something to prove now.

  However, I’m too late. I can see him already talking to a flight attendant as I get closer. She’s all smiles and coy gestures as she nods agreeably.

  He turns as I approach and winks at me, and I swear my stomach does cartwheels in response. “Paige,” he smiles. “Erin here, will see if she can get us some new seats.”

  Nodding, I watch Erin the perky flight attendant as she flicks her gaze at me but continues to smile only at him. I actually do roll my eyes this time, then I cross my arms and walk back to my original seat, cursing my body for having any sort of response towards him. My hand is still tingling. I decide it’s easier to plonk myself in Elliot’s seat instead of climbing over Connie McSnores-a-lot while I wait to find out where our new seats are.

  Elliot

  The flight attendant leaves to work out where she can move Paige and me to. When I turn around, I’m expecting Paige to still be behind me, but she’s sitting on my old seat, staring at the shuttered window with her arms crossed and her face stern.

  I feel like I keep pissing her off.

  One moment I have her laughing, and the next she seems annoyed with me. I don’t even know why I care, but as I approach her, I can’t help but wish she’d look at me and smile again. She has a beautiful smile. And I get the feeling she will make me work for every single one.

  She’s pulled her hair up in a tight bun, and her profile looks sophisticated with her hair like that. Kind of like a ballerina performing, the elegance in her stance, an expression that shows little more than calm control.

&nb
sp; Connie is still rumbling away in the next seat, her mouth wide open as she lies back. Due to some sort of miracle, the people in front and behind her are managing to sleep. Perhaps they thought to bring sleeping pills too? Something I’ll need to remember the next time I’m on one of these long-haul flights.

  “The flight attendant will find out where she can move us to,” I say, standing in the aisle since there’s no easy place for me to sit.

  Paige’s only answer is a nod as she looks me over, watching as I move to open the overhead locker and take out my carry-on luggage. I continue to feel her eyes on me as I wrestle my backpack out of the confined space. Slinging it over my shoulder before I look down at her, trying to return a gaze with the same intensity she’s giving me. I’m not sure what game we’re playing. But right now, I’ve got nothing but time.

  Paige

  He’s very graceful in his movements considering his size. I like that he is so tall and broad, but doesn’t seem to take up all the space around him. Most guys as muscular as him are all stiff and seem to have trouble with their natural movement. But this Elliot guy carries his bulk as if it was always meant to be there.

  He gets his backpack out of the overhead locker then looks at me, so I lock my eyes with his, waiting for him to say something. But nothing comes, just a quiet challenge that makes me think he wants me to be the one who speaks first. Fat chance, buddy. I can go days without speaking.

  Maybe a full minute of staring passes before he cracks and points upward. “Do you want me to get your stuff too?” he asks.

  Shaking my head, I stand up. “I’ll get it myself.”

  “No problem.” He moves out of my way and looks down at the floor. The movement makes me hesitate because I know I’m being a bit of a bitch. He’s trying to be nice to me, and I keep rebuffing him. And it’s not because I don’t like him, I mean, I don’t even know him. I just have some pretty massive walls when it comes to trusting people—especially men—and I struggle with kindness. It feels unnatural to me.

  I stop with my hands reaching into the locker and look at him until his eyes meet mine. “Thank you, though,” I say. “For the offer… it was very kind of you.” There. I’m not so bitchy after all.

  He gives me a tight smile. Then the flight attendant comes up and touches his arm to get his attention. “I have new seats for you.”

  She gets us settled in a middle row of five empty seats, telling Elliot especially that, “If you need anything else, I’m only too happy to help.”

  Leaning over so she’s forced to meet my eyes, I smile brightly at her. “You are such a doll. Thank you so much for helping us. We really appreciate it.” I say that last part while placing my hand on Elliot’s upper arm. Now she thinks something’s going on between us. I don’t know why I’m doing that, but I keep on smiling, behaving like the other half of a happy couple until she goes away. I’m going to blame it on my tiredness.

  Elliot

  The second Erin walks away, Paige moves one seat over. “I hope you don’t mind,” she says. “You’re very broad. I thought you might like the extra space to stretch out.”

  “Thanks.” I smile at her gratefully. She’s right. These seats are ridiculously small.

  She's lifted the arm rests and shifts two seats away from me, her legs resting on the seats between us. Looking at me with heavy-lidded eyes she rests her head against the back of the seat.

  “Why are you going to London?” she asks.

  I lean back then look over at her, deliberating over my answer. Something about this situation makes me think, Fuck it. I will only know this girl for a handful of hours. I may as well tell the truth. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  Her eyebrows move closer together as she considers my words, “Who do you think you were before?”

  “A solicitor,” I answer, thinking about how much time I wasted studying for a career I didn’t even want.

  Yawning, she shakes her head. “I didn’t ask what you were, I asked who you were.”

  I look at her for a long moment before I answer, again with truth. “A jerk, I used to be a jerk.”

  “It’s the curse of the good-looking guy. You're all jerks,” she says knowingly.

  I laugh a little at her revelation. “Talking from experience?”

  She shrugs and tilts her head noncommittally in response.

  “So where did your catharsis come from? Some girl break your heart?”

  I can't help but smile at her insight. “I kind of turned into a jerk after that, actually. Before, I don’t know if I was a jerk. I was just living a life that wasn’t mine.”

  “So, you don’t know who you are, and you’re hoping to find yourself on the other side of the world?”

  I rest my head back in the seat and sigh heavily. “I don’t know what I’m hoping. I need a change because I’m sick of just… existing. What about you? Why are you going to London?”

  “Same reason as you, I guess. My life isn’t anywhere near what I used to imagine it would be. Time for a change.” She covers her mouth as she yawns, closing her eyes and working her head into the back of the seat, effectively ending our discussion. I wish she’d stay awake and talk to me some more. I want to know what she thought her life would be, and what kind of change she’s hoping for. Instead, I watch her beautiful face until her breathing deepens and her features soften. It should feel creepy, but it doesn’t. She’s mesmerising.

  Three

  Paige

  I sleep the rest of the flight, only waking when it’s time to fill out paperwork and eat a meal. Blinking rapidly, I yawn and stretch as I right myself within my seat. I look over at Elliot who is rubbing his eyes, also yawning. His hair is sticking up. Which of course, looks really attractive on him. Must have been a hard life for him, looking awesome while everyone else looks shit. My eyes roll involuntarily at the thought. I can’t help feeling resentful towards anyone who had an easy life. Compared to me most people had it easy. So I tend to resent everybody.

  “Morning.” Elliot doesn’t even glance at me. “I think that was the best upright sleep I have ever had in my life. I was exhausted.”

  “Me too,” I say, moving one seat closer so I can take my breakfast tray from the approaching food trolley. “Thank you for not being an obscenely loud snorer.”

  “I wish I could say the same for you.”

  “I don’t snore.” At least I don’t think I do.

  “Everyone snores sometimes.” He smirks, his head jerking back like he’s really amused about something. I’m about to ask him what when the trolley stops near us and we accept our trays. While we’re going over the contents, he sneaks a glance at me, that smirk still present on his lips.

  “What?” I snap, annoyed over the snoring and the smirking.

  He laughs, shaking his head. “You didn’t snore. To be honest, I wouldn’t even know. I passed out the moment I closed my eyes. I was just ribbing you.” He’s still smiling, pleased with his joke.

  I just watch him as he works his way around his food. These people and their regular sense of humour astound me. I wonder what it’s like to be quick to laugh and feel confident teasing a stranger for fun. I’m not a big laugher. My giggling fit in the back of the plane was a rare occurrence for me, caused by exhaustion and not actual humour. My old co-workers used to tell me I was too serious, so I smile because it’s expected. It’s how I fit in. But laughter? I don’t remember the last time I found something truly funny. There’s too much suffering in this world, and it sucks the funny right out of it.

  Pausing mid-chew, Elliot raises his eyebrows. “Are you not eating?”

  “Yeah, I’m eating,” I say, snapping my gaze away from him to focus on my own plate, poking the rubbery looking eggs with my fork. I pull the foil back on my cup of orange juice and take a sip of the cold sweet liquid, gulping greedily as I realise now how thirsty I am.

  “How long are you staying in London, Paige?”

  I frown at my food and shake my head slightly. �
��I don’t know,” I say, feeling nervous about landing and why I’m going there.

  “You don’t know?” he repeats. “Didn’t you get a visa? A return ticket?”

  I turn my head to look at him. “I have dual citizenship. I don’t need one. My um, father, is from the UK.”

  “Oh,” he says, looking slightly uncomfortable, “I ah… heard you tell Connie your family passed. I’m sorry to hear that.” We lock eyes for a moment. He’s so sincere that I break the connection, suddenly uncomfortable with the lie.

  To cut a long story short, my mother went to London for some business meeting when she was in her early thirties. When she came home, she was pregnant with me. The catch? She was already married to the man I always thought was my father.

  I never understood why I was treated differently from my siblings until after I was kicked out of home and ordered a copy of my birth certificate. My real father is some British guy called Daniel Ashdown. It explains so much about my life. I always thought my parents looked at me with disappointment in their eyes because I wasn’t the star athlete or pupil my siblings were. Now, I think it was sadness; sadness for a lost love and sadness because I was a constant reminder of an infidelity.

  I’m going to London to find out who the other half of my biology belongs to. I don’t know what I’ll do once I see him. I don’t even know what I’m expecting. But, I need to know who he is because he’s affected my life insurmountably without ever meeting me. Maybe seeing him will give me a sense of closure, finality? I’ve been through a tonne of counselling over the last few years while I dealt with the traumas in my past. And while I’ve accepted what happened to me, I feel that finding my biological father is the missing piece of an intricate puzzle. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking? But it’s something I need to do.