“Dem, nothing happened. He caught me before I fell and that was that. I ran to the bathroom before anybody could say anything,” I reply irritated.
She gives me a pointed look, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks about what I said. “What did Brody say?” I ask.
“He said he’s never seen Grayson react the way he did. He said when you ran to the bathroom Grayson flipped out at Rebecca in front of everyone. He also said Grayson had a really hard time keeping his eyes off you,” she replies, looking back and forth between me and the road we’re on.
“He can’t keep his eyes off anything with boobs. I’m not oblivious to what people say about him.”
“Those are just rumors Huntley. I’ve known Grayson since we were five and he’s not as bad as people say. Yeah, he likes to have drunken one night stands now and then but you can’t hold him entirely responsible when the girls are willing. They know what he’s like and yet they still make him out to be the bad guy. Besides, have you seen that boys’ ass?” she giggles and I smile.
I would never admit to her that his face almost made me stop dead when I approached his table. His green eyes met mine and held them for a second too long. His dark brown hair fell just above his eyes in that ‘just fucked’ kind of way that makes every girl want to run her fingers through it. Yeah, he’s gorgeous. Even I would be an idiot not to acknowledge the fact.
“Hey,” Demi says, interrupting my daydream, “Where’d you go?”
I blush, realizing she’s probably caught me thinking about Grayson. She grins. Shit, now I know she’s caught me. “Sorry, it’s been a long day and I’m tired. My mind kinda drifted off.” It’s partly true since I am tired but I hope she doesn’t question it.
“Ok fine, we won’t talk about him anymore but promise me you won’t be too quick to jump to conclusions. Too many people have made their minds up about him before they really know him. Not everything is what you see on the outside, he’s good at hiding what he doesn’t want people to see,” Demi shuts her mouth like she’s said something she shouldn’t have. What does she mean he’s good at hiding what he doesn’t want people to see? Does he have some deep dark secrets? The thought weighs heavy on my mind. I know all about dark secrets. They’re the reason I left so much behind.
“I promise,” I whisper, wondering if I’ll be able to stop myself from wanting to know the real story behind the infamous Grayson Carter.
Demi’s mood changes from serious to whimsical in a flash and I’m grateful to escape the melancholy I was about to succumb to. “Um, there’s something I kind of need to tell you,” Demi says next to me. I look at her and see that she’s nervous.
“Okay,” I say, although it’s more of a question. I have a bad feeling about this.
“Well I might have given your number to a guy in my Sociology class,” she bites her lip but doesn’t look at me. She knows how I feel about dating. I decided I wouldn’t, at least not until after I graduate.
“What?” I screech, “Why would you do that?”
“He’s a really nice guy and you need to loosen up a little and have fun! You’ve been here a while already and you still rarely go out, even with me.”
I close my eyes and lay my head on the headrest, taking a calming breath. I know she means well but she doesn’t know enough to understand why dating is so far off my radar. “What did you say?” I ask, leaving my eyes closed.
“I told him to call you. He wants to take you to dinner sometime,” she replies. “And his name is Luke.”
This is a lost cause. When Demi sets her mind to something not even the force of a hurricane can stop her. I guess one date wouldn’t hurt.
“Ok fine,” I breathe, “But one date and that’s it.” I turn to look at her in time to see her grin.
Before I know it we’re pulling up to the property that surrounds Lake Dixon. It’s a warm evening and the sun set a little while ago. Sun sets are my favorite but I missed it, a little too preoccupied with my chat with Demi on the drive over here. It doesn’t take long before we hear the loud music blaring from several pick-up trucks that come into view. They’re all parked backwards in a circle, surrounding a huge bonfire made of wood. We pull over and park next to a blue Ford F150. What is it with these boys and their trucks I wonder. It must be a country thing.
The boys are all standing around the fire with plastic red cups in their hands, laughing and singing along to a song I’ve never heard of. Tommy spots us walking up to them and yells “Well if isn’t my woman!” drawing everyone’s attention to Demi and I. I stifle a laugh when Demi narrows her eyes at her drunken boyfriend. “Thomas Elliot McKinley, how many times have I told you not to call me that!” she yells back, putting her hands on her hips. Demi is only 5 ft 4 but her size is deceiving. This tiny girl can make grown ass men cower. It’s scary watching such a small thing in action.
“Ah come here baby, you know I’m just teasing,” Tommy coos, stumbling towards us until he envelops Demi in his big arms. They make an odd couple but only because Tommy is just over six feet tall with short black hair. He has the typical build for a college ball player – broad shoulders, muscular arms, a trim waist and leg muscles big enough to kick start a small plane. He’s good looking but so not my type.
Demi kisses him a little too intimately and I have to look away from their public display of affection. I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be that loved by another human being. I thought I felt it once but as luck would have it, I was wrong.
A few of the other guys start whooping and shouting cat calls, forcing Demi and Tommy to break apart. Demi blushes and tucks her face into Tommy’s chest, hiding her embarrassment. Tommy looks back at his friends and gives them a death glare, forcing all teasing and sound-making to stop. He turns to me and smiles, “Hi Huntley, thanks for coming with my girl.”
I smile back and nod, “Sure. Looks like we came just in time.”
He laughs and simply shakes his head, pulling Demi to where the rest of guys are standing. My eyes start scanning the faces, taking note of the ones I recognize and the ones I don’t. I spot Brody as he hops off the tailgate of a truck and come to a standstill when Grayson wonders out from somewhere, zipping up his pants. I immediately think the worst and wait breathlessly for a girl to prance behind him. If it was socially acceptable to kick myself in public then I would. I’ve met Grayson once and I shouldn’t care whether or not a girl will come out from where ever he was. Demi’s words from earlier pop into my head ‘Not everything is what you see on the outside, he’s good at hiding what he doesn’t want people to see’. The timing couldn’t be worse because as he makes his way around to where Brody was sitting, I finally get a good look at him.
Oh.My.God
The True Religion jeans he has on hug his lean waist and his grey fitted shirt does nothing to hide his well-defined chest. If I had to guess, he’s at least six feet tall. That only draws my attention to his broad shoulders and I see now that he’s a whole lotta muscle. Add all of this to a square jaw and full lips and you’ve found the perfect recipe for one thing…Sex On Legs.
His mouth pulls up in a sexy smirk when he catches me staring and I blush before turning my gaze away. Some people would say I just eye-fucked him and unfortunately, I’m inclined to agree. I may have sworn off all guys but I’m still human and can’t help my physical reaction to such a gorgeous piece of man. The fact that he’s obviously half past drunk should’ve stopped me but nooo I still undressed him with my eyes.
Good Lord, what the hell is wrong with my brain right now?
Demi clears her throat and I’m sure the blush in my cheeks turns a shade darker. Great now she also knows I was checking him out.
Chapter 4
~ Grayson ~
Knowing that Huntley had openly been checking me out had to have been one of the sexiest things ever, next to that red blush that just skimmed over her cheeks. I am surprised to see her here, especially after this morning’s events at the bakery. But def
initely not disappointed. Of course seeing her in that little white sundress and those red cowboy boots for the second time today is doing nothing to help the instant attraction I felt earlier. In fact, it only serves to exaggerate my confusion. Even in my slightly drunken state, I think about the possibility of experiencing such an intense pull towards someone you don’t know. I always thought it only happened in those stupid romance films girls are always carrying on about, but from where I’m standing, that theory might not be complete horse shit.
I stand and stare like a kid who’s just been let loose in a candy store only to be told he can’t touch anything. And I’m tempted to touch. Every damn part of her.
One of my team mates, Bryce, walks up to her proudly. He exudes arrogance and thinks it’s his swagger that will get any girls’ attention. “Hey there little darlin’” he says, slapping on his cocky grin. “I’m Bryce.”
I watch her carefully, waiting to see if she’ll ‘drop her panties’ at the sight of his grin and the sound of his strong Southern drawl. I’m suddenly very interested in their exchange. She sticks her tiny hand out to take his, giving it as firm a shake as she can manage. “Huntley,” she says, that sing-song voice tickling my ears. “Huntley Morgan.”
I almost laugh when he chokes on his beer. Bastard thought he’d get lucky until he found out her last name.
“Morgan as in Coach Morgan’s’ niece,” Brody quips from beside me. He jumps back onto the tailgate of his truck and takes a giant gulp of his beer. Huntley looks between Brody and Bryce. “What does that have to with anything?” she asks innocently. Like she doesn’t know? Nobody answers and the guys have the decency to look sheepish. Well hell, if they’re not saying anything then neither will I.
“Y’all are such a buzz kill,” Demi chirps from Tommy’s lap. “Did someone bring a guitar?”
“Demi, you can’t play or sing for shit,” Brody teases. There’s a slight bite to his tone and his expression darkens at the sight of Demi in Tommy’s lap. With that he pulls his acoustic Gibson guitar out from behind him.
“It’s not for me asshole,” she counters, giving Brody a heated glare.
“Then why did you ask for it?” I ask.
“I can’t play,” she replies, “But I know someone who can.” She looks at Huntley with a mile long grin on her face. “Ah hell Demi, are you kidding me right now?” Huntley whines, shaking her blonde head of curls. I have the sudden compulsion to wrap a single curl around my finger and smell it. I bet it smells sweet, like strawberries. She looks like a strawberries kind of girl.
“Play, play, play” Demi chants. She encourages the rest of us to join in and eventually we’re all chanting along for her to play. Since there are fifteen guys and only two girls, she succumbs to the peer pressure, clearly outnumbered.
“Alright fine,” she sighs, walking up to Brody and taking the guitar from him. “What do you want to hear?”
“Play what you were rehearsing the other night,” Demi chimes
Huntley smiles, pulling the oversized strap over her shoulder and resting the guitar on her knee. “Alright then, but it’s a slow one and I’m a little rusty so be warned.”
Everybody nods in agreement and she settles onto a tree stump to the left of the bonfire. The atmosphere has gone from a rowdy ‘boys only’ blow out to a relaxed hang out with friends, all because this gorgeous girl put a guitar on her lap.
She makes a few adjustments to the strings, tweaking it here and there before her fingers glide over them in complete harmony. Her voice joins the music and it’s flawless. She starts singing the words to Holding Out For A Hero by Ella Mae Bowen and loses herself in the lyrics. She was right, it’s a slow one, but right now I wouldn’t want to hear anything else. It’s perfect.
She’s perfect.
I listen to her voice flow and fuse with the words about waiting for a hero, for someone strong, and steady, and willing to fight for her. The expression on her face makes me wonder if there’s a truth to what she’s singing. Has she been hurt? Does she need saving? I decide I want to know. I want to know if her heart has been broken, I want to know who would be dumb enough to break it and I want to know why no one was around to take care of her. My mind is hovering, thoughts of protecting her crashing into one another at a rapid pace.
I look around at my team mates, all of them completely enthralled by Huntley and the fluidity with which her hands slide over the over-sized guitar and the way her voice entices your senses. It’s impossible to look away.
She strums the last chord and I see a single tear roll down her cheek. She swipes at it quickly but I doubt anyone else notices. It’s only quiet for a minute and you can hear the crickets echo through the stillness of a gorgeous southern summer night. But then a deafening applause erupts from everyone around the bonfire and Huntley blushes crimson. God she’s so fucking adorable. Our eyes meet briefly and the current surging between us is almost enough to make me lose my breath. The connection is lost when she looks away but I swear to God she felt it.
Fuck. This is confusing.
“Well boys, it’s time for us to get home,” Tommy says standing up. He easily pulls Demi up with him and she squeals, being taken by surprise. “Baby, I’m driving,” she says with that ‘I-mean-business’ look that we’re all familiar with.
When Brody stops scowling at Demi and Tommy, he looks at me. “Are you ok to drive?” I stopped drinking about an hour ago so I should have no problem driving.
“I’ll drive with you,” Huntley pipes up, shocking both of us. We haven’t said much to each other since her and Demi got here but I’ll be damned if I pass up her offer.
“We’ll drive behind you and I’ll get her at your house after I drop Tommy off,” Demi adds. Her voice is a little too excited.
“Ok,” is all I can manage at this point.
** ** ** ** **
The drive is only thirty minutes but for the first fifteen minutes there’s an awkward silence flowing between us in the cab of my truck. It’s a nervous energy and I repetitively wipe my hands on my jeans because they’re sweaty. I have this flapping feeling in my stomach, like there’s a family of bats living there.
Bats? In my stomach? Really? God Grayson, pull your head out of your ass. It’s just a girl for shits sake…
Huntley fiddles with her hands but keeps looking out the passenger window on her side of the truck. I decide it’s now or never.
“You sing really well,” I say, giving her a brief look before turning my attention back to the road.
You sing really well? Are you fucking kidding me? That’s all I could come up with? Idiot.
“Uh, thanks, “she replies softly, “I was nervous. I hate being put on the spot.”
“Who taught you to play?”
She shifts uncomfortably and I wonder if I should’ve just kept quiet. “My dad. He started teaching me to play when I was really little. I’m surprised he managed it.” A giggle escapes from her mouth and she shakes her head.
A few minutes of more silence passes.
“So how are you liking Breckinridge?” I ask a little too eagerly.
I should really just smack myself in the face now and get it over with because if I thought I was an idiot five minutes ago I was sadly mistaken. I could not have come up with a cornier question. My usual ‘confidence’ has gone into hiding. It’s the first time a girl has me at a loss for words for no reason at all.
She shrugs. “It’s different but I like it. The people are really nice. It’s the closest thing to home I’ve felt in a long time.”
“What do you mean?” I don’t want to pry but the question is out before I can think twice about it. Something is pushing me to dig deeper and whether she opens up or not is up to her but I want to try.
“Sometimes home has more to do with the people around you than the place you live. A home isn’t always a happy place but the people with you are what make it worth it.”
Her words hit me in the middle of my chest and ricochet off the
walls of my rib cage. I understand what she means better than I wish I did.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she whispers, regretting her words. I wonder if she realizes that her emotions are written all over her beautiful face. This girl, this gorgeous creation sitting next to me, has been hurt before, maybe even broken. She may not want others to see it but I do.
I realize then that what’s pulling me to her is more than just an attraction. It’s an inherent bond created by circumstances neither of us had or have control over.
You hear about people crossing paths in their lives and you hear about peoples paths running alongside each other in perfect symmetry. But what you don’t often hear about is the union of two roads that eventually become one. Looking at Huntley now, I understand what that means. The feeling that her path with inevitably come together with mine is unnerving but nonetheless there.
We’re quiet for the rest of the drive, both lost in our own thoughts. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Then maybe I would feel like less of an ass for having these crazy, ridiculous feelings wreaking havoc with my head. Both of them.
We pull up outside the house and I turn my truck off. I’m trying to decide whether or not to invite her in and dammit it’s a tough decision. If I invited her in would she get the wrong idea? If I didn’t invite her in would she also then get the wrong idea?
God. I sound like a woman, overanalyzing every little detail until it’s worn paper-thin.
“You’re not what I was expecting,” Huntley says shifting in her seat to face me. The comment is blunt and completely unexpected, pulling me straight out of my dippy thoughts.
“Oh yeah?” I quip sarcastically, “Why’s that?”
I’m dying to know what people have told her about me. Probably about what a play boy I am or how I party too much or maybe how I have a new girl on my arm every night. Stupid rumors piss me off so much I’ve never really wasted any time negating them. But I wish I had, just so that Huntley won’t have any reason to believe them.
Beneath Your Beautiful Page 3
