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“He’s a good kid, Liv. Just give him a chance. Trust me.”
Yep, that was what my mother said.
But, not a chance in hell I’d give that douche a chance. I didn’t trust him. All he ever did was make snide remarks whenever he was anywhere near my vicinity.
Thisbelief was reinstated that very same night after Brett and Mom chatted up with me for a couple hours after dinner; talking about Liam, my undecided college plan, my goals and so forth. As Mom assured me earlier, Brett was a good man—a man who thought the world of my mother. It was icky and amazing at the same time when they were next to each other.
They wore the look of being in love pretty well. It was funny how second chances worked. Even though they married other people in the beginning, when fate intervened, these two were done for. What person would have enough strength to fight what you were fated for? I was sure my mom fought it at first, but in the end, she folded… just like the rest of us. We were, after all, just human.
I was truly overwhelmed with all these “new additions” in our lives. However, my mother was truly radiating a happy glow, and I, too, felt somewhat happy that she found someone to cherish her…
But—and yes, there was always a huge but—this didn’t feel like home to me. Somehow, I felt like I was walking into someone else’s life and I felt bereft. I was jet-lagged and the last thing I wanted was to unpack in a new bedroom that I didn’t have any attachment to. Though the room was nice, overlooking the vast garden and swimming pool, it was still strange to me.
It was sad to think that the house I grew up in—my childhood home—was sold after my parents divorced. Mom and I had moved into a leased townhome, but we didn’t stay there for that long for me to feel sentimental about the place.
Mom had done all of the moving while I was gone, so all of our things were in Brett’s home when I got here. It was all too drastically fast and I needed a moment to breathe, to take it all in.
It was going to take a lot of time getting used to; however, I was willing to try for my mom. Besides, this was my senior year—my last year in high school—and no man was going to ruin it for me. Even if his name was Greyson Edwards.
Liam was probably expecting my call, so was my father, but I didn’t feel like talking and explaining my odd situation to anyone. Not yet anyway. So, since it was a warm night, I decided to have a quick dip in the pool.
It was almost midnight, so instead of diving in head first, I had to resort to using the steps, careful not to disturb anyone.
My thoughts were occupied with emailing Liam or not as I approached the azure pool that was lightly illuminated. A soft moan escaped when my body sunk into the cool, refreshing water. I was smiling, floating as I stared at the twinkling stars when I heard the firstthump, thumpsound.
“Harder, Grey!” a woman’s voice demanded, coming from the pool house. Then the loud sound went erratic, jackhammer loud. “Shit!” the woman screamed.
What the hell!Could they get any louder?
Greyson was having sex and he didn’t care if anyone was around to hear it. He simply did his own business just because he could. He was a total douchebag.
The last leg—the finale—was even worse. I thought the woman was being cut open and gutted. I was cringing and gasping as she rode out her orgasm. I stared at the lightly lit pool house, seriously wondering if she was okay.
Five minutes later, I was still struck appalled and in deep shock. I watched, paralyzed, as Greyson and his latest girlfriend emerged from the door. He was escorting her out while she kept her hand glued to his ass.
The second they disappeared, I swam back to shallow water and stepped out of the pool. Deep in thought, I squeezed the water out of my hair, sighing. I was walking towards the table where I had left my towel when he spoke behind me. "Were we loud? Sorry. I didn't know we had an audience. If I did, I would've made a better show of it."
Funny, he didn’t sound a bit sorry at all. “Don’t bother,” I gritted out, loathing his cockiness.
He laughed like he was being tickled.
Fucker. I rolled my eyes and continued ignoring him.
However, even with my indifference, the idiot remained.
“So, how was Australia? I heard that you slept your way around all summer long. I’m curious; do you prefer American or Aussie dicks? Or are they all the same? A dick is a dick, right?” I heard him snort, which angered me even more.
“Yes, they’re all juicy, Grey.”
“Mine is oozing, Liv. Keep that in mind, will ya? Might come handy to you if you need to get a workout done.”
I spun around and glared at his grinning face. “Dream on, Greyson.”
“Always, Liv.” He started walking backwards, still facing me as he tapped his chest a few times. “Sweet dreams, Pooh.”
Pooh. Winnie the Pooh had been my favorite… back in third grade, and apparently, Greyson remembered that little tidbit. I didn’t need another reason to stay and banter with him. I left the pool area in a flash, needing to erase that mocking laugh that irritated me to no end.
That night, my dreams weren’t sweet. In fact, they were nightmares of Winnie the Pooh.
