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“No. I’m not pregnant.” I roll my eyes.
“This isn’t about….” my sister trails off.
My eyes narrow and Bekka clears her throat. She knows this may lead down a dangerous avenue.
Don’t say it. I swear I’ll lose my shit.
Camille’s eyes soften and she gives me a look only twins can comprehend. The look that says I know you.
“Is this a reaction to Greyson?” She asks.
And that’s my que to shut this conversation down. I push to stand on my fuzzy socks.
It’s late. I have early classes in the morning. I sign because now I’m pissed.
She visibly shrinks back onto the couch, and I hate that I’m being a bitch. But this has nothing to do with Greyson Roy. Nothing to do with the fact he’s been pictured on every social media site with a beautiful woman clinging to his stout body. It has nothing to do with the article that leaked information from a direct source that says the “couple” are getting serious.
It has nothing to do with my brother’s best friend.
Nothing to do with what happened a month ago.
So why can’t I breathe anytime someone says his name?
Chapter 3
Greyson
My feet hit the ground as I climb out of my truck. I didn’t even bother with my suitcase. As much as I love my brother, he, Elle, and June are a family now, living in what was my house, but I deeded it over to him a few weeks ago. I spend ninety percent of my time in San Antonio, so it felt right. He deserved it. I had enough money to buy any house I wanted. Multiple actually, but that wasn’t really my style. Sure, I had an impressive salary. My contract with the Eagles is more than fair. I prefer to be smart with my money. I have investments and some charities I work with. At the end of the day, I don’t play football for the money. I do it for the love of the sport. The money is just a bonus and material shit doesn’t mean anything to me. So, I figured I’d stay at my childhood home while I’m here. Dad moved out and mom has been juggling the life of being a new divorcee. I figured she could use the company.
I could hear the familiar music as soon as I hit the porch. I recognized my niece’s…or half-sister's …. favorite movie. I’m still wrapping my brain around it. I’ve been “Unky Grey” for the first four years of her life and we agreed it should stay that way. Regardless of who her DNA belongs to. Easton is her dad and Elle is her mom. Plain and simple.
I knock twice before I’m yanking open the door. June is standing on the couch, dressed in her sparkling blue Elsa gown, reciting every word coming from the television. She spins around and her grin spreads as she launches herself off the couch and sprints to meet me in the foyer.
“Unky Grey!!!!” She squeals.
I caught her midair, and her left foot barely missed my balls.
I swear kids have no respect for the male anatomy.
“Hey sweet pea.” I drop a kiss on her brown curls and set her on her bare feet.
“Like my toes?” She wiggles her bright pink toenails.
“I love them.”
“Can I paint yours?” She asks.
I wince.
“Maybe later. Where’s your dad?” I brace my hands on my hips and glance into the kitchen.
The door to the back porch opens and Easton walks in, followed by Elle. He was in his uniform. He must be on duty today.
“Hey man.” He nods.
His eyes squint. Like he’s sizing me up. Making sure I’m not about to blow a gasket.
“Hey Grey.” Elle sits her coat down on the table and takes a few steps over to give me a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming into town.” She smiles, but she has a gleam in her eye.
