by Harlow Grace
She nodded and went back to her reading.
This was my last assignment before graduation and I wanted to give it my best shot. Once it was done, I could move to the next stage of my life. I couldn’t wait to finish university and start my career.
Another half hour passed before Taylor looked up from the magazine again. This time she removed the earphones from her head. It was a wonder her eardrums hadn’t burst because I could hear the music pound through that small device all the way to where I sat at my desk across the room.
Her eyes shone as she held up the magazine. “Wow, look at these awesome hairstyles. Do you think Mum would let me color my hair blue or purple and cut it into one of these rad styles?”
Just a little annoyed by the interruption of my thoughts, I swiveled my chair to face her. “Um, what’s that, love?” I asked absentmindedly. My brain was still working on the next paragraph of the conclusion of my paper.
She pointed to a picture of what I could only describe as a God-awful-scary-as-hell goth looking girl with black, purple and blue hair that stood up out from her head as if she’d just been electrocuted. Maybe she had, because her eyes were wide and she was sticking her tongue out; it was pierced with angry looking spikes. Wrinkling my nose, I shuddered and looked back at my gorgeous stepsister. I'd kill to have hair like hers and she wanted to change it to that? Seriously?
I laughed. “You’re kidding right?”
She shook her head, her bottom lip pouting. “I’m serious. One of the girls at school is totally rocking this look. The boys are all over her.”
Yeah, probably because she’s giving them more than a weird hairdo.
“Sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with the hairstyle . . . but I think you’re a bit young for that. Mum would freak out if she even thought you’d wanna do that to your hair.”
“That’s because Mum was Miss Teen Australia and she wants me to follow in her footsteps. I may look similar to what she did at my age, but beauty pageants and all that crap is the furthest thing from what I like.” she wailed. “You gotta help me. I don’t wanna be dragged into that shit.”
I clucked my tongue. “Language, young lady.” I couldn’t help admiring her sassiness though. Did all beautiful people have natural charm and charisma exude from them? It was as if the world sat up and took notice when my mother or any one of my stepfamily walked into a room. I found it amusing that most people thought Taylor was Mum’s daughter and I was the stepsister.
Maybe that was why I fitted in so well with my stepfamily—they were all stunning, like my mother, and I wasn’t any competition for them. I was happy for Taylor to take the limelight and she reveled in it.
As for me, I was a geeky nerd. Plain Jane and happy to be so. The only thing I’d strived for when I was Taylor’s age was the highest grades in school so I could win a scholarship. I’d inherited my Dad’s average Joe looks and was the simple girl-next-door type with a nondescript face. I didn’t mind though—it meant I blended in just perfectly without most people noticing me. Just the way I liked it.
“Neither shit nor crap are swear words, they’re bodily functions and therefore perfectly fine words.”
I wasn’t even getting into that discussion with her. She definitely didn’t want the nice-girls-don’t-talk-like-that speech. Besides, I didn’t mind using expletive language myself sometimes. I didn’t really trust people who were too perfect, and especially people who never swore. It was like they had a bunch of carrots stuck up their ass.
She gave me that puppy dog face that melted my heart. I really did adore her and was ecstatic when my mother married her father so that I could have a real family.
“Honey, why would you want to change your hair? It's so damn pretty.” I tilted my head to the side as I studied her. ”Be grateful for what you have instead of wanting to turn yourself into a freak show.”
“Ha-ha, you’re always so wise. I'm so lucky I got you as my older sis.” Her eyes darkened as she shuddered. “One of the women Daddy dated before he met Mum had the most nasty daughter I’d ever met.”
“Nastiest,” I corrected her automatically.
“Whatever,” she said, laughing. She looked up at me and squinted her eyes. “Hang on a minute . . . if I can't change my look and you love my hair—”
“Whoa, stop right there, missy. I’m very happy with the way I look. Physiotherapists don’t have time to be all pretty and precious. My hair tied into a ponytail is practical and works just fine for me.”
“Awww, don’t say that.” Her attention back to the magazine, she flicked a few pages back. “In fact when I saw this picture of Emma Stone earlier I thought how much she reminded me of you. Now if you colored your hair just a little bit . . . I not talking anything drastic, just to brighten up the tone, you’d look stunning.”
“Hmmm . . . The only thing Emma and I had in common were freckles and since hers are now invisible, we have nothing in common.” I took a deep breath. “And I thought you said you weren’t into beauty stuff like Mum? I think you have a natural eye for that shit, but no, I’m not coloring my hair. Why would I anyway? I don’t want anyone looking at me.”
“You said shit!” she said raising an eyebrow at me, trying to look stern and failing.
“Yeah, but I’m twenty-one. I'm an adult, so I can say whatever I like.”
“Your birthday was like three weeks ago, and you don’t look any different than before, so how is that fair?”
“I don’t make the rules. But anyway, you get a lot more out of life with honey than with vinegar, so try to stay sweet instead of becoming a foul mouthed bitch like some of the tarts in class.”
A deep baritone voice from the doorway interrupted us and made my heart smile just from hearing it. “Who’s a foul mouthed bitch?”
I turned to face my stepbrother. God, he sure got hit by the pretty stick. If his little sister grew up to be anything as gorgeous as him, our parents were going to have to buy a few riffle guns to keep the boys away.
“Hey, what are you doing here? You’re a day early.” Taylor said, pulling up her nose as she appraised him.
Grayson was the sweetest man I knew, with sharp intelligent eyes that missed nothing. He was kind and unassuming despite practically being ‘Australian royalty’. As heirs to an Australian mining magnate’s fortune, the Forbes siblings were super rich and each used to getting their own way.
I smiled at Grayson and said, “What Taylor means is, hey big brother. How was your trip home? Can I get you a nice drink while you freshen up?”
“No, I don’t,” Taylor shrieked from the bed. “He can get his own.”
I rolled my eyes. She adored her older brother and he loved her too, but I usually had to play the role of peacekeeper.
My stepbrother was holding a bag in one hand and had a backpack slung over his shoulder, his dark hair hanging over one eye. He looked tired and yet he still had a smile on his face. Undeterred by his sister’s words, he placed the bags at the door and walked into my bedroom.
“Hey. How are my two favorite girls in the whole wide world?” His grin widened as he stretched both arms out wide.
I stood from my chair to give Grayson a welcoming hug. I loved when he came home for uni breaks. When he was a continent away and we could only chat on occasion, I missed him.
With a few long strides, Grayson stood in front of me, grinning down with a sparkle in his eyes. “God, I missed you guys,” he said, his gaze trained on me. A delicious warmth spread over my body from my belly as I smiled back.
“You’re a day early. Weren’t you supposed to only arrive tomorrow?” I asked, straightening my hair. God, I looked a mess in track pants and an old t-shirt of his I’d stolen off the washing line.
“Yeah, I couldn’t wait a day longer to come home. I skipped the frat party and flew home instead.” His arm snaked around my waist to pull me closer. “I arrived last night, but I slept at a friend’s place. My flight was delayed so we landed very late. Didn’t want to wake th
e house.” Grayson grinned down at me. “Nice t-shirt by the way. Am I ever getting it back?”
Busted.
Heat rose to my cheeks and I hid it by slipping my arms around his torso and burying my face in his chest. Inhaling deeply, his manly scent filled my nose. I loved how he smelled, it made me all warm and fuzzy and evoked feelings of security and safety.
“Hey you two, if I didn’t know better I’d say get a room or something.” Taylor rolled off the bed and joined in on the hug just as I was about to pull away. “You know I hate you coming home because you steal Layla away all the time.”
I laughed. At least both my stepsiblings liked my company. I didn’t really have that many friends and I’d only had a few crushes and one boyfriend to date.
Taylor’s eyes lit up as she addressed her brother. “Hey, help me out here. I was just trying to convince Layla to change her hair style and color since she won’t let me even ask Mum for the style I want.”
He gave her a strange look. “Why would Layla want to change her hair? It's perfect as it is. As for you, just live with what you were given. You probably want to go all red or something silly.”
Taylor and I exchanged glances before she burst out laughing. “I think we’ll spare you the details ‘cause I don’t think you’d approve. You'd probably be worse than Mum.”
Typical male, Grayson had already lost interest in the conversation about hair. I followed his gaze to the poster behind my headboard. He had a perplexed frown between his brows as he studied the picture.
“Still crushing on Superman? Haven’t you outgrown him yet?”
“It's not Superman she’s crushing on, silly, it's the fine specimen of Henry Cavil that makes her panties melt.”
“Taylor!” I shrieked, my face warming up at an alarming rate. Grayson’s eyebrow lifted as his curious gaze rested on my face.
“Is that right? Henry does it for you, huh?”
“Um, he does have superpowers, you know.”
Oh God, that’s the best line I can come up with? Heat from my cheeks radiated off me. Damn that poster. I’d been meaning to take it off the wall for months.
Taylor tilted her head and appraised the life-sized poster. “Actually, now that I’m really looking at the man’s face, I have to say he is gorgeous. Those eyes . . .” She drew in a breath and went quiet for a moment. Crossing her arms, she said, “Nah, I could never crush on him.”
“Why not?” I mean who in their right mind would not get their panties in a knot over H.C.
“Yeah, tell us.” Grayson encouraged.
She looked over at her brother and then back to the poster. “He . . . um . . . well you kind of look like Henry—just an uglier version of course. Anyway it would be just plain weird if I crushed on a man who looks so much like my own flesh and blood.” She turned to me, grinning. “Of course it's totally cool for you, you aren’t biologically related.”
I laughed, trying to hide my mortification. Where the hell did Taylor get her crazy ideas from? I narrowed my eyes and scrutinized the poster on the wall, then my gaze went back to Grayson.
Same eyes.
Same strong jaw.
The Cupid’s bow shaped mouth.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
How had I never connected the dots before? They even had the same boyish smile. This was just plain weird.
My back stiffened. “Any resemblance is pure coincidence and Sloane gave it to me for my birthday two years ago, so of course I put it on the wall. She paid a lot of money for it,” I justified as I walked over to the print and pointed to the bottom right hand corner, tapping my index finger lightly just below a black scribble. “It's a limited edition poster. That’s his real signature.”
I raised my chin while I folded my arms, waiting for someone to challenge me further.
“So one day when you marry Henry you can ask him to personalize it with your name. How cool would that be?” Taylor held up her hand for a hi-five. I just shook my head and laughed.
Grayson’s gaze swung from the poster to Taylor. “Marry him? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, I've heard Layla and Sloane talk about their dream men. I think our dearest sister wants to be Mrs. Henry Cavil.”
I shot her a warning glance but Taylor wasn’t letting go. She scratched her chin and looked back at me. “Um . . . come to think of it, since I think you look like Emma Stone, Henry is not the man for you.” She tapped her index finger on her lips for a few seconds, her eyes glistening with mischief. “Actuuuually,” she said drawing the word out, “Laura’s brother just arrived back home from military service and Oh. My. God. He looks like Ryan Gosling. He’s the perfect match for you!”
This conversation was getting ridiculous. “That talk about our dream man was hypothetically speaking. And you shouldn’t be telling your brother everything you overhear or I might not let you in when Sloane comes over again.”
She made a gesture as if she was zipping her mouth closed, turning a key and throwing it over her shoulders. I laughed, glad she was getting the hint to shut up.
“About that drink. Want to come downstairs with me and have a coffee?” Grayson smiled, causing small crinkles to form in the corners of his eyes.
I shrugged. “Sure, why not. The caffeine kick will help me to finish my assignment. It's due in six days.”
I needed to get away from Taylor for a while. She was running her mouth more than usual and it made me uncomfortable in front of Grayson. All that talk about Grayson, Henry and Ryan had made my mouth go dry and my panties just a little damp. It was time to get out of my room before I completely embarrassed myself.
As if guys who looked like movie stars would even look in my direction.
“On the day of the graduation ball? Wow that sucks.” Taylor shrieked.
She was right, it did suck—not that I really was all that fussed about the ball or needed much time to dress up, but I wanted the work done before it was due so I could tick it off my list. I had several job offers and I wanted to take my time to choose which of the three would be the best for me to kick-start my career. Since each had their pros and cons, I hadn’t been able to decide yet.
“Wow, it's that time of the year?” Grayson asked, smiling down at me. “It’s a special night, you will enjoy it.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, but haven’t bought a dress yet. Sloane and I are going shopping as soon as I finish this damn assignment.” I was sure Grayson wasn’t interested in my dress dilemma, so I steered the conversation back to safe ground. “Getting good grades is my main priority, so I need to give it my best shot.”
“Take time out to enjoy this moment, Layla. You’ve worked hard. Get the pretty dress and for one night just forget about your studies.”
“You can talk,” I laughed, “you’re practically stuck to your desk most of the time.”
Grayson reached out and gripped my elbow, steering me out of the room. “I'm dying for that caffeine fix. We can talk more once you’ve made me one of your famous strong brews.”
4: Layla
Holding the steaming mug between my hands I curled my legs up on the sofa, taking small sips as I let my gaze wander over Grayson. Without being too obvious, I checked out his broad shoulders and wide chest all the way to his narrow hips. His dark brown hair had grown longer than usual and scraped the collar of his shirt. Resisting the urge to run my fingers through his silky strands and tug on those lengths, I gripped my mug tighter.
He sat down beside me on the sofa, stretching his muscled biceps as he yawned.
“Tired?”
“Yeah. Sleeping on Mason’s pull out sofa wasn’t exactly comfortable after such a long flight. I’m looking forward to my own bed tonight.”
“Why didn’t you come home instead?”
Grayson hesitated for a moment before answering. “I did, but the house was in darkness and I didn’t have my key. So I just went to Mason’s place and crashed there.”
Okaaaay.
I sucked in a breath.
“Um . . . what time was that?” Oh God, please tell me he didn’t see me swimming naked last night.
“I have no idea. All I know is that it was very late.” The way his eyes gleamed made my stomach churn. Was he keeping something from me?
In almost a whisper, I asked, “Did you see anyone?”
Working on my assignment until my brain was fried, I’d needed a break and to clear my mind. It wasn’t until I got to the pool area that I had the bright idea to go for a swim. It was a spur of the moment thing to pluck off my pajamas and dive onto the pool. I’d been certain at the time that nobody would have seen me. I’d be mortified if Grayson had witnessed it all.
This time he didn’t hesitate for a second. “I didn’t even make it to the front door.”
Phew. Thank goodness for that. Yet, it still seemed like he had a secret. Maybe I was just imagining it. Pulling my knees to my chest, I met his amused gaze, trying to read him.
I could get lost in his eyes. His deep blues were the same as always.
Gentle. Kind. Intelligent.
Just being around Grayson made me feel at ease and happy. He was going to be a wonderful pediatrician. Children loved him and naturally gravitated toward him whenever we went to a barbeque or family gathering. He’d also make a fantastic dad to some lucky woman’s kids one day. With his looks women would be swarming all over him.
For the first time since I’d known him, I wondered what kind of women Grayson was in to. They’d have to be smart, there was no doubt about that, but physically? I didn’t know if he preferred blondes or brunettes, tall or short and come to think of it, he’d never brought a girl home or spoken of a girlfriend.
“Hey, you haven’t heard a word I said.” he chastised, hitting my thigh playfully with a cushion.
“Wh . . . what?” I blinked fast, getting my mind out of dream world and back to the moment.
“I asked who the lucky guy was who is taking you to the ball.”
