Burning Through Gravity

by Addison Moore

  Her muscles tense beneath me. “My father?”

  “You mentioned your mother kept you far from his money.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks ashen as she twists into me. “Investment banking or something equally boring. How about yours? You mentioned you were thinking about your dad.” She blinks in quick succession as if happy to steer the conversation in another direction. I can tell it’s not easy for her to talk about her family.

  “My dad…” I shake my head and fill my lungs with the memories. “He was a great guy. You would have liked him. He spent every weekend teaching Carter and me how to toss a ball. Mostly me since Carter was younger when my dad passed away. I was ten, so I remember him.” A fist forms in my throat. “He said I could do anything, be anything I wanted—all I had to do was believe. He wanted me to knock the fire hydrant off my dreams and see how far up they could go.”

  “And you did.” She melts into me like chocolate on a warm day. This is my dream—right here with Stevie.

  “Yup. Built Jinx from the ground up and all the while I could hear him cheering me on.” A dull groan sirens through me. “Sure wish he could have lived to see it. Wish my mom would have stuck around, too.”

  “Sorry about your mom. And I wish your dad could have lived to see it, too.” She lowers her lashes and loops her finger around the hair at the base of my neck. “I wish Claire were here. She was much better than I am—than I could ever hope to be. She always did everything right. Sometimes I wonder if the Big Guy upstairs launched the lightning bolt at the wrong Eaton sister. Claire would have dominated in life. She was a people person. I’m sort of flailing while attempting to dodge the human race as a whole.”

  I run my finger slowly over her jaw until I hook her chin and lift her eyes to mine.

  “You’re not dodging me.” I bring my mouth close to hers. “Thank you for that.”

  “Yes, well. You sort of kidnapped me and baptized me in the ocean before forcing me into nothing more than a T-shirt. You are a very hard person to ignore.” A coy smile floats up her cheek. “Thank you for that.”

  “Kidnapped?” I trace her lips with my finger and try to keep from shaking. I want to land my mouth over hers in the worst way. My will is weak, stretched to the limit like a rubber band ready to snap. I want to devour her, go off on her body like a tiger in the wild. It feels impossible to hold back. “I was sort of hoping you wanted to be here.”

  Her warm, soulful eyes widen, and I wonder if we’re pushing too fast. This place, the things that happened here feel far too easy to fall back into. It’s as if reality doesn’t exist at the beach house. What I need to do is build what we once had here and multiply it to include everywhere else on the planet.

  She takes a deep breath and curls into me like a kitten. “If you could say anything to your father right now, what would you tell him?”

  “Good question.” I try to imagine what my father might say about Stevie and how I’ve managed to botch the situation. “I’d tell him I love him, and then I’d thank him for being the best dad a kid could ever have.”

  She looks up with that mournful smile. “I think you’ll make a great dad someday.” There’s a hint of sorrow in her voice as if she won’t be around to see it. “You’re kind, and you have a big heart.”

  I let her words soak in for a moment. “Thank you.” And here I am making her believe Evelyn and I have anything worth fighting for. “And you’re going to make a great mom. You’re generous and give the best hugs.” I tighten my grip around her. Stevie’s arms flex around my waist, and she gives a squeeze, affirming my theory.

  “When was I generous?” She pulls back amused, and her arms dislodge from my waist far too soon.

  “When you bathed me with ice cream a few weeks back. You were anything but greedy. You made sure there was enough to cover both of our bodies.”

  A laugh trembles from her. “You!” She swats me with a pillow, and I steady her waist to keep her from pulling away.

  “Get back here.” I slip her over my lap, and her arms fall around my neck. “If Claire were here, what would you tell her?” I don’t want the conversation to steer too far from the tender place we’ve drifted. I know that as much as she misses her sister, she needs to talk about her. That was the hardest part about losing my father, never having anyone to talk to about him—and then my mother after that. I never believed for a minute that she just took off. Not one article of clothing was missing. She took nothing but her purse and the few dollars she had in her wallet. After years of not wanting to believe it, I came to the conclusion she might have met with foul play. My stepfather believed it from the beginning, but it was easier for me to think she took off rather than that someone had her tied up—doing God knows what to her.

  I swallow hard and sniff into Stevie’s neck to stave off the tears.

  She sags with a sigh. “Claire.” She closes her eyes a moment and moans. “God, I’d tell her I miss her and that she’s the biggest liar in the universe because she never came back to get me. She never wandered into my dreams or haunted me like she swore she would.” Stevie blinks away the tears, looking up at me with dew-filled lashes. “She was supposed to check out the lay of the land—tell me if there was really no night in heaven.” Stevie settles her hand over my bare stomach, and I hold her there. “Sometimes I think when my mother had her cremated, she incinerated her soul, too. Either that or Claire is so far removed that even if God himself asked her about me, she’d wonder who I was. She’s forgotten this earth and me like a bad dream.”

  “Not true.” I land a kiss over the top of her head and freeze with my lips to her hair a moment too long.

  “Whoa.” She glides back, extracting her hand from my shirt. “Old habits die hard. Anyway, enough about my sob story.” She wipes her face with the back of her hand. “Did you and Evelyn kiss?”

  “What?”

  “You know—over the last couple of weeks. You said things were going well, and that’s a surefire sign of things progressing nicely.” A strangled intensity crops up in her voice. “Everyone knows a kiss can say more than a thousand words.” Her lips fall open as she touches my mouth with her finger. “It can mean more than every word in the dictionary combined.” She traces my lips as her eyes latch onto mine. “Sometimes a simple kiss can untangle an entire knot of feelings and sort things out far quicker than a hundred conversations.”

  “Sounds powerful.”

  Her finger falls into my mouth, and I trap it gently with my teeth.

  “It is.” It comes out hoarse as she plucks her finger free.

  I bounce my gaze to each of her eyes. I want to tell her that every peck I’ve ever shared with Evelyn, with anyone, was pale as death compared to her life giving, mind bending kisses. What we shared was from the soul—a gift from God pressed down and shaken, overflowing with an abundance of emotion that most people will never experience.

  “So have you done it? Did you kiss her?” Her eyes widen. Her voice shakes out the words in less than a whisper.

  “Evelyn and I haven’t kissed. We’re saving it for the wedding.” I flat line.

  “Very funny.” She picks up the pillow and gives me a swat. “You should do it.” Her lips twitch up one side as if saying we shouldn’t. “I think that’s how you’ll really know if you’re still in it.” She glances around the room as if she were scouting for a missing pair of keys. “I think I’m ready to go home now.”

  A vat of silence spills into the room, and we just stare at one another as if we’re in a standoff.

  She wants me to kiss Evelyn. I give a tired blink. I don’t think I’m going to land my lips over any part of Evelyn Perkin’s body, but I do think I’m going to call Stevie on her bluff. What woman in her right mind would encourage someone she’s interested in to kiss another person? An ex no less?

  Unless, of course—my heart sinks like an anchor—Stevie was never interested in me to begin with.

  I don’t believe it for a minute.

  Or at leas
t my ego refuses to embrace the idea.

  Nope. Stevie Eaton wants me just as much as I want her, but something—or someone—is standing in our way.

  Ironic that I could build a multibillion-dollar enterprise from nothing overnight and yet not have a single clue when it comes to women. The more I fall in love with Stevie, the further she seems to slip—and it just makes me want her that much more. If Carter is right, and her plan is to make me beg for mercy, then my dick and I are dying to salute her genius.

  Carter calls a late night board meeting, so as soon as I drop Stevie off at her sister’s house I head back to Jinx. I would have dropped Stevie off at her dorm, but she was adamant that no one should see us together this late at night, especially anyone who might be interning at Jinx. I’d feel like a sack of shit if she were cut from the program because of me, but I’m sure a hefty donation to the Rigby School of Business would cover a multitude of sins.

  I barrel into the boardroom and find two of my brothers with Evelyn seated between them. They nod toward me with matching long faces.

  “What’s up?” I’m almost afraid to ask. I glance at the company logo etched over the glass door one more time and wonder if it’s finally happened, if I’ve lost my company for good.

  “Gravity is up.” Cash’s voice booms from the open laptop, and I give a slight nod in his direction.

  Carter hands me his phone, and I scroll through pictures of some garish nightclub with glorified Christmas lights strung up all over the place.

  “Opened last night.” Carter’s chest expands with disapproval. “It was pretty cool.” He leans over to Carson, and they share a quick fist bump. I’m not sure if they’re serious or just mocking me.

  “What was pretty cool?” I glance to Evelyn. “What in the hell are they talking about?”

  “It would seem”—she clears her throat, sits straight as a pin before answering—“someone in Breakers Canyon had the exact same idea. Open a bar downtown that gives any L.A. piss-hole a run for its money.” Her eyes remain steadfast on the table, too afraid to meet mine, and that’s not like her. “They’ve got a long line of A-listers ready and willing to play night after night.” She looks up without moving her head. The shadows catch her in all the wrong places, giving her a demonic appeal. “They stole it from you. They stole your idea and your name. Whoever did this had it up seemingly overnight.”

  My stomach bottoms out like I just took a rooftop nosedive, and I did.

  “Whoever it is, they’ve got money.” Shit. Gravity was my baby. That was supposed to be my thank you to the army of employees that swarm the hive, day in and day out. Without them, Jinx wouldn’t be what it is today, and I know it.

  “And lots of it.” Carson takes the phone and thumbs through a few pictures before enlarging one of some dude grinding against a redhead. “You know who this is?”

  I scour the picture trying to find something remotely familiar but it’s too damn blurry. “Nope.”

  “That’s Hans Lionheart’s son. That’s their new business venture. It looks like Lionheart is the one that has it out for you.”

  “No shit.” I look over the blond dude again trying to remember if I saw him that night at the party but keep coming up empty. “How did he do it? How the hell did he snake my club’s name—my entire club, from underneath me?”

  “Lionheart must have a spy.” Cash leans into the monitor, resting his chin on his hand. “Looks to me like you’ve got a mole, buddy. Figure it out. It’s time to exterminate.”

  Carter sits back and gives a startled blink.

  “What’s the matter?” He knows something. Carter looks as if his balls have just been deep-fried.

  “Nothing.” He checks his phone. “I have to run. Cheryl mentioned Abby has an earache, and I told her I’d stop by.” He ejects himself from his seat so fast you’d think the walls were in flames.

  Cash signs out. Carson is quick to leave, and soon it’s just Evelyn and me sitting across from one another, staring each other down like we’re about to draw weapons.

  “Where did you go this afternoon?” Her eyes boil with jealousy. Her mouth opens just enough for me to see the dark cave of her soul. At the end of the day, it was never fair of me to toy with Evelyn, especially not by plying her with flowers and dinner. Crap. I can’t seem to get anything right.

  “I went to the beach house—counted sailboats for a couple of hours. And you?”

  Her chest thumps as if she swallowed down a laugh.

  “I stayed right here. There was a breakthrough with Jeneration Jinx. It looks like it’ll be ready to launch a full three weeks early.” She gives a single nod. “Screw Lionheart and his cheap, wannabe nightclub. He can have Gravity.” Evelyn swoops over and sinks into my lap before I can stop her. “What we’ve got is going to turn the world on its ear.” Her mouth comes in for the kill, and I turn my head at the last moment.

  I guess I lied to Stevie when I said she could ask the world, and I’d give it. There is one thing I wouldn’t do for her, and that’s land my mouth anywhere near Evelyn’s. I don’t need a good old-fashioned spit swap to know I don’t have any feelings floating around for her. We’re as shallow as we’ve always been, nothing but a dried up creek.

  What Stevie and I have is thousands of leagues beyond this, buried deeper than the sea. All I ever felt for Evelyn is a cheap form of infatuation.

  What I’m feeling for Stevie is something far more genuine.

  I think they call it love.

  6

  Mercury Rising

  Stevie

  The evening clouds tumble in every shade of cinder, fluid as smoke as I try not to shiver in the damp clothes Ford dropped me off in. Aspen asks if I can give her and Henry a minute, so I make a beeline for the balcony. There’s a beat up wicker chair that’s doing its best impression of Einstein with its spindles going haywire in every direction. It looks like it might hold me, so I take a seat and admire the bruised night sky. The wind picks up, biting me with its icy razor teeth. My fingers are so frozen they burn from the sting.

  I glance over my shoulder to see if my sister has managed to plant a butcher knife in her husband’s skull yet. I may be dying of hypothermia, but I’m still up for hiding a body.

  They’re still going at it, arguing red-faced with veins popping out the sides of their necks. It seems I arrived in time to witness yet another stress fracture in their already fragile nuptials. Henry is tight-fisted, his entire body animates with rage. God, it looks like he’s just seconds from smacking her into tomorrow. A part of me wants him to make a move so I can go in there and shred him from head to toe with my fingernails. I’d take that meat mallet he has on the counter and jam it down his every orifice. Heck, if Aspen won’t help me hide the body, I’m pretty sure Lincoln would. We could chop Henry-the-not-so-great into pieces and leave bits of him all around the Hollywood sign. That way he can get the fame and notoriety he’s always thought he deserved. Which reminds me… I fire off a group text and beg Kinsley or Lincoln to rescue me. I’d ask Bella, but she’s never been to Aspen’s Hollywood hideaway.

  “Stevie?” Aspen whispers as she slips outside.

  “Escaping your captor?” I stare wide-eyed at my disheveled sister. Her hair expands around her face like a bush, and her mascara streams down in muddied rivers, evidence of tears.

  “Oh, shush.” She swats me on the shoulder as she takes a seat on the edge of a sun-bleached barrel. “I got your text.”

  “Sorry about that.” Note to self, take Aspen off group messages the next time I send an SOS. “Everything okay?” I glance back inside. “If you want we can give you a lift to the battered woman’s shelter.” My voice is tight with sarcasm, but she knows I’m telling the truth.

  “Stevie.” Her head falls into her hands. Her back trembles, and it dawns on me she’s actually crying. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Aspen with so much as a frown on her face, and it all becomes real.

  “That’s it. You’re coming with me.” I get up and cha
rge into the house.

  “No, Stevie, don’t!” She tries to pull me back by the elbow, but I head to the kitchen and pluck a trash bag from the pantry. “We’re getting your shit together.” I storm past her and head into the bedroom. The bathroom door is open, and I can hear him pissing like a racehorse. I duck into her closet and start tossing shoes and stacks of jeans into the white plastic bag until a heel spikes through and tears open the side.

  “Would you stop?” Aspen tries to wrangle her belongings from me, but I hold steady, stuffing in a few blouses in the process.

  “What the fuck?” Henry explodes into the tiny space, pulling Aspen back like a ragdoll. “You trying to hurt my wife?” The veins in his neck wiggle like poisoned worms. His dark hair is thick and wiry. The purplish cast to his face lets me know he’s been drinking. Henry is a notorious boozer. He literally pisses their money away.

  “No—I believe that would be you.” I hold up a spiked heel like a weapon, pausing for minute to admire it. When did Aspen get red stilettos?

  “What’s going on?” His voice diminishes to nothing as he cups Aspen’s face in his hands. “Baby, did she hurt you?”

  “No.” She gently pulls him away, her voice sweetly sick. She’s trying to defuse him like a bomb. “Stevie just—she just wanted to borrow some clothes.” She shoves the bag in my arms and yanks me out of the closet. A horn blares outside, three times fast. “That’s probably Lincoln.” Aspen wastes no time in shuffling me to the door. “I’m glad you didn’t hurt yourself this afternoon. That boss of yours is a real piece of work.”

  Evelyn’s glossy blue face comes back to haunt me. She looked like a corpse pinned under that sticky goo. I definitely like her better as a corpse.

  “She’s not the only piece of work around here.” I glare past her at Henry who’s already settled on the couch with the remote in hand. I get in Aspen’s face until she’s forced to look at me. “He touches you, and we’ll have a body on our hands.” I leave out my plans of dismemberment for now.