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“Anything. Something about you.”
“I’ve never taken a bath with someone before tonight.”
She lets out a sleepy chuckle. “Me either. Well, except for one time when Sophie and I were in Italy. There was this huge bathtub in a villa we stayed in. So we put on our swimsuits, opened a bottle of wine, and sat in there until the water turned cold.”
“Y’all have been friends for a long time, huh?
She nods. “Since fifth grade. I knew she was a kindred spirit from the moment I met her. I just didn’t know exactly how important she’d be all these years later. She’s my family.”
Greer’s voice turns sad and I want to absorb it and take her pain on as my own.
“Do you have any siblings?” I ask. I’ve never heard her talk about her family. All I know is that her parents are next level rich.
“Nope.”
“Me either.”
“My parents have basically disowned me,” she adds, so matter-of-fact. “But don’t feel sorry for me. It was my choice. They wanted me to take my place in the family business and I refused. I always knew that would come at a price. But if I had done what they wanted, my life would’ve been based on nepotism, only having a career because of my last name. I would’ve married who they wanted me to marry, been who they wanted me to be. Following in their footsteps.” Her messy bun brushes against my chin as she shakes her head. “I get that most children want that. But not me. Becoming my parents was my biggest nightmare. I watched them weigh every decision against the mighty dollar. If it wasn’t good for the bottom line, it wasn’t good for them. They hate each other, yet remain in their sham of a marriage. It’s a joke. And I couldn’t live that life. I couldn’t be a fake. I wanted to be real and know that everything I have in life is because I earned it.”
Whoa.
I didn’t see that coming—not just the honesty, but the truth about her family. This deep insight into who Greer really is as a person. It’s easy to see where her stubbornness comes from, that innate need to be independent and stand on her own two feet. I can relate to that, even though my childhood was the polar opposite of hers, I wanted that same independence and autonomy.
I hate that her parents couldn’t appreciate her for who she is, this amazing woman who isn’t afraid and goes after what she wants. The thought of Greer having no choice but to stand alone, brings an ache to my chest I haven’t felt before.
All of it only makes me admire her that much more.
“Good for you,” I tell her, my voice full of grit and fierceness—protectiveness for this woman in my arms. “You’re so brave, Greer. You could’ve taken the easy road, but you didn’t. You forged your own path and you’re kicking ass. If your parents can’t respect that, it’s their loss. They don’t deserve you.”
She hums, but I can tell the praise leaves her a little uncomfortable, so it’s not surprising when she turns the tables back on me. “Are you close to your family?”
“It’s just my mom.” I don’t talk about my family. It’s not a warm, fuzzy story, so I usually avoid this conversation. But Greer was so honest with me, I feel like I have no choice but to be the same with her. “My dad was an alcoholic. He left when I was young. We didn’t have anything when he was around and after he left, we had even less. My mom did what she could, but it was hard. I got my first job when I was ten. I worked at the concession stand at the baseball field. It’s how I started playing. The coach said I was a natural and made sure I always had the right gear and that my fees were paid.”
That was the driving force of my first charity. When I got my first contract, I took a large chunk of it and set up a foundation for kids who don’t have the money to pay for sign up fees or cleats.
“Are you close to your mom?” Greer asks, her voice sounding a little distant.
“Yeah, we’re close. I don’t call her as often as I should, which she’d probably like to ring my neck over, but we talk when we can and she comes for a visit when she can, usually around the holidays.”
“You’re originally from Texas, right?”
“Yeah, born and raised. What about you? Have you always lived in New Orleans?”
She shakes her head against my chest. “No, my parents moved here to take over Hawthorne Communications after my grandfather died. I was born in New York, but I call New Orleans home.”
The water is starting to feel a little tepid, so I reach over and drain a little of it out and turn the faucet back on to reheat the tub. As I shift, I feel Greer’s ass graze over my dick and the sensation makes me harden.
It’s unsolicited, but not surprising.
Even though there is nothing sexual about this bath, having her this close to me is bound to make my body react.
When I feel her back stiffen, I let out a deep chuckle. “Sorry about that. He has a mind of his own.”
She huffs out a laugh. “I’m sure he does.”
Settling back into the water, I pull her against me. “If we ignore him, he’ll go away.”
“Mmm hmm, okay.”
