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I stumbled back onto the closing door. Jameson loomed over me, kissing gently at my lip corners before reconnecting our lips once more. I melted at the taste of him. I’d found myself taken up by this Hawthorne boy despite copious warnings.
The last time we were here, we kissed as well. That time was different though. I was uncertain then but following my heart. Now I couldn’t find it within me to be concerned, I pulled him closer, held him tighter.
We didn’t even come here for a particular reason. We would normally strut and stride around the property with purpose, a goal. Today, Jameson and I just wanted to be alone.
“We better start making some noise before Oren thinks we’re sneaking away or something,” He mumbled, grudgingly separating from my lips, and made his way to the other side of the room. It was only his words that reminded me that my head of security was just on the other side of that door, and that I happened to be Avery Grambs, the sudden “unlikely heir” of Tobias Hawthorne to almost everyone else in this country. He had that effect on me. “Don’t take that the wrong way, I was just…forget it,” I allowed the opportunity to taunt Jameson Hawthorne for losing his verbal confidence slip away to catch my own breath instead.
The time zipped by once we started getting up to nothing. We read some random books off Toby’s bookshelf and made fun of everything-from the titles of the books to the authors names, the blurbs and any silly looking words that jumped out whilst we skimmed the pages. In between laughs, Jameson would peck my cheek or brush his arm over my knee, and I’d have to laugh extra loud at every joke to cover the pounding of my heart.
We rested on Toby’s bed, eyes to the ceiling. Jameson recalled a few memories -more twisted and concerning, than fond- and some of the family’s old games. He talked about the times he’d outsmarted Grayson, and how it would leave them on off-speaking terms for a few days but whenever Grayson won, they had to be cordial.
“Shit,” I said, after catching a glimpse of the time on my second phone. I hadn’t realised we had been talking for over three hours.
Wearing his trademark smirk, he teased, “Don’t be so shocked, heiress. You know how you get around me, all forgetful and shit,”. That wasn’t true, was it?
I denied it without further thought, “I do not get forgetful around you. If anything, you get forgetful around me,”
He didn’t deny it like I did. Instead, he offered a small smile, getting off the bed and helping me off it as well. As soon as we stepped outside the door, Oren clung to my space again. Jameson walked me to my room door before pleading with Oren to allow him in for just a few minutes.
“So, heiress, this is your place,” he said, right as I was putting down my phone and removing my cardigan.
“Yeah, you already know that. You’ve been in here quite a few times,” I scoffed, holding back a snort.
“I-” His mouth opened and closed for a few seconds. I mirrored his actions to poke fun at his flounder. “Could I just kiss you goodnight please?” His voice came out exasperatedly, like he really needed to kiss me, or he’d collapse.
It was now my turn to flounder. I willed myself to speak but gave up prematurely, relying on a good ‘ole nod. He surged forward, almost barrelling me into my bed. He laughed at his own eagerness, cheeks tinted slightly, before holding me as we fell backwards onto the soft sheets. I lay almost completed on the bed and he braced himself up by his hands, lips on mine. I dared to touch his arm and pull on him slightly. He doesn’t resist.
We only lasted a minute or two longer before Oren was knocking on my door and ushering Jameson out.
I fall asleep with Jameson on my mind. Jameson on my lips. And Jameson in my heart.
++
Convincing the media of our well-constructed lies was hard. Convincing the media of the truth was even harder. The public loved to think they were so clever but continue to fall victim to the tabloid’s misleading headlines time and time again.
This time, they had somehow convinced themselves that Jameson and I have been conspiring to help me infiltrate Tobias Hawthorne’s will so we could later split the money. How did we do this exactly? The smartasses hadn’t figured that part out yet. To be fair, the hot tub pictures were leaked, but the correlation was non-existent.
Instead of going on record and giving them a piece of my mind, Landon’s words whirred in my brain. I tried to recall her exact instructions and sounded the words on my lips, testing them out, forcing myself to say everything confidently, amiably, gingerly, with a smile that reached my eyes and a trustworthy gaze that said, ‘don’t worry haha, people make silly mistakes all the time’.
My heart rate picked up by a millisecond. My last few media runs haven’t gone that well and I feared this one would follow the same fate. And that would leave me with another couple of weeks where the paparazzi amped up and I couldn’t go a day without saying my name on the front of a magazine or Twitter’s trending list or the top Google search. It’s just that the hate never stopped, and the cameras never quit flashing, and it was all proving to be a bit overwhelming. Landon tries her best, but not even her top-notch media training could get these leeches off my back.
I tried to breathe deep, think happy thoughts, think about Libby, Max, Jameson-
As soon as Grayson peeped inside the backroom, he asked, “Are you okay?” Concern gripped his eyes.
“No,” I answered honestly, blinking back unshed tears.
He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I felt slightly comforted, “Just follow my lead. We’ll be okay,” He gave a small smile. I wanted a hug. I needed a hug.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being here for as long as I have, it is that I can’t make it on my own. The Hawthornes know it too; they just like to act as if they don’t. There are many things I can do on my own, but this is not one of them. The Hawthorne life was unchartered waters, and the unexplored territory was daunting and dangerous. “Can I get a hug, please?” I asked embarrassedly, despite reminding myself that it was okay to need help, guidance and comfort sometimes.
“Sure,” he said, sounding more unsure than he looked but bringing me into his embrace, nonetheless. “C’mon, Ms. Grambs, let’s go convince those bastards you like me more than Jamie,”
It went well. Well, that’s if you if you fail to count my constant stuttering and my inability to make eye contact with the interviewer. (Landon would have my head for that one, “Avery, you have got to look them in the eye and make them believe you’re telling the truth”) Landon said I would get better eventually, even if her face didn’t show it. Alisa actually complimented me afterwards, telling me that the rumours would pass, as the ridiculous ones tended to do.
To help the rumours pass a little faster, both women arranged for Grayson and me to hang out in paparazzi’s sight. Landon hoped it’d confuse the public into changing the Hawthorne boy that snuck me into the mansion so much that they’d realise their own story made no sense.
“A seat, Ms. Grambs,” Grayson called, motioning me towards the chair he had pulled out for me.
It was a quintessential food franchise looking storefront, except I’d never heard of this place. It was probably outside of my price range before. It was decorated nicely, in a soft red and yellow, comfortable, discreet and I just couldn’t help but thinking of coming here with Jameson one day, maybe Max too. I fought with my own brain for thinking of a boy I just met before my best friend. I openly palmed myself in the forehead, bringing Grayson’s attention to the fact that I had wondered off into my own world. “Oh sorry,” I apologised meekly.
“No problem, heiress. I get it,” He winked, using Jameson’s nickname for me again. “Jamie’s done it again,” He laughed though it didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes raked over the menu, and if I hadn’t stared at him for the three minutes he took to choose his meal, I would’ve missed the flicker of sadness in his gaze. At least I think it was sadness.
++
I really don’t know how we’d made it that far away without Oren popping out of the bushes or something. Max and I had snuck out through one of the tunnels on the property and walked out by the gates during the guard change.
It was 3:00 am and Max and I had snuck out to go shopping…
It was a mere whim, okay? Not every decision has to be a good one.
I had taken note of a store that opened so early that it had always been closed whenever Alisa dragged me around this part of town. So, when Max and I were talking late last night and she expressed that she was feeling a bit down, I thought it was the perfect timing for an impulsive, last-minute outing.
Plus, I was hoping this could maybe help make it up to her. She has been a great friend and she was there for me when no one else was. I won’t allow myself to be stupid and lose her.
Max almost flipped when we walked in. If we weren’t being monitored so closely by the tired staff, I know that she would’ve been foaming at the mouth and running around like a banshee at all the different clothes. She squealed at every look before peeking at the prices and grasping at her chest. I laugh every time, encouraging her to pick out whatever she likes. “Holy ship, beach. This is insane!”
“Yeah,” I agree. I’ve only been Hawthorne-acquainted for a couple months so the absolute ridiculosity of the prices was not lost on me. She returned from the dressing room with five jeans, two dresses and a couple cropped tops. Her face was suddenly sullen.
“I hope you’re not doing this because you feel you need to. Because you feel bad ‘cause of my mom and stuff,”
“I’m not,” I answered truthfully. “I just wanted to make it up to you. I know this can’t fix everything and I’m sorry for not realising how selfish I was always being, but I really don’t want our relationship to be like that. I’d like to change it…if I can,”
“Well, it’s a good start,” She sat beside me on the waiting couch outside of the dressing room. “You know?” She picked up one of the crop tops she’d chosen, “I’ve never been allowed to have one of these before. So, I’m making sure to stock up in case something else major happens in your life and we never get to go shopping again,” She laughed, covering her mouth.
“That won’t be happening again. Not if I can help it,” I assured her, trying to maintain eye contact but she slapped me with a top and we lost all seriousness.
By the time we’re cashing, Max had an entire heap of different clothes and shoes between her hands. She claimed that this would be the start of her own new and improved wardrobe, just as long as I was covering every cent.
As I handed my card to the cashier, a crash comes from the entrance and Oren is standing, beet red and obviously pissed. I looked over and saw shattered glass before trying to hurry the cashier, as if I had any chance of making it out there alive.
He stomped over to me, smoke bellowing from his nose and ears. I swore he would put his hands on me, but instead he stands akin to a disapproving parent and yells at me, “What were you thinking?”. The cashier, seemingly startled, shoved my card and receipt into my hands and I hoped I really could continue acting as if Oren hadn’t bust through a store’s glass door to find me.
I appreciate the work Oren has done. He has been the only person I can guarantee will protect my safety, but I just want my old freedom back sometimes. Having a bodyguard that follows you every step you make isn’t as cool when you’re almost 18 and can’t even be in the bathroom for too long before he threatens the door down.
I didn’t even get to walk past him. For he grabbed me by the knees and hoisted me over his shoulder. He also yanked the shopping bags from Max and guided her to the car.
When we were safely inside and drenched in silence, Oren let out the biggest sigh I had ever heard from him – from anyone, actually.
“Will Max get her things back?” I mumbled, feeling guilty towards them both.
“We’ll have to check to make sure they’re safe first. The workers could have planted something there, Avery. Bombs…listening devices,” His hands tightened around the steering wheel, and he sighed again, sounding like he was very very tired of his job. Guilt stabbed me again. “What were you thinking, Avery? Even if the people in the store weren’t trying to harm you, anything could’ve happened. Someone could’ve recognized you from the street, and no one would’ve been there to protect you. Not even a stupid Hawthorne boy was there with you,”
I yielded, “I’m sorry,”
“I bet,” Was his only response.
~~~
Oren’s anger wasn’t enough for him to keep me home from school.
I got dropped off that morning, with dark circles under my eyes and Max under my arm. Oren had said to get her out of the house for today because he needed to cool off, and there was nowhere for her to go but school.
So, we fumbled around with my classes for about an hour and a half before Max started to complain about my full schedule. She went to the library, fawned over the books, stared dreamingly at the trophy displays, played random games on the surprisingly up-to-date school computers, and still came back to me whining about being bored.
Before I properly realised, Xander had gotten himself out of his classes for the rest of the day and he and Max stowed away until the last bell rang. I found them on the roof, laughing together.
I smiled.
++
Alisa and Oren, especially Oren, hadn’t let up on me since that stunt Max and I pulled some time ago. I was under his keen surveillance. All. The. Time.
I couldn’t even be alone in my room for too long. He watched me at night until he was sure I was asleep and would be there to check on me in the morning. If that stunt was to get me freedom, then obviously freedom hadn’t been worth it.
Even when Jameson showed up to my bedroom door with two flowers, one white and one purple, asked me out and ushered me into the private section of a fancy restaurant, Alisa and Oren sat barely 2 seats away. There was no one else on this side of the restaurant yet Oren stared me down with unwavering eyes.
I sighed. I was already overwhelmed enough by the whole surprise date thing, and now my security detail was adamant on surveying my every twitch.
“You ‘kay?” Jameson asked, eyebrow quirked in either concern or mockery.
“No,” He truly looked concerned now. “Well, I mean, I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never been on a date before,” I didn’t even remember that that was the truth until I decided to lie. This was my first date.
“Don’t worry, heiress. You don’t need to be nervous around me,” He smiled with his words, one of his devasting smiles. I melted. “Comfortable. That’s what we’re working for,” If that’s the case, I don’t think a fancy restaurant way out of my comfort zone is the place to do it, but I keep that thought to myself.
Everything goes fine though.
We eat until we can’t eat anymore, and Jameson invites me to a slow dance when a familiar song saunters from the speakers.
I don’t really know what I’m doing, and I end up mostly hugging him while we rock back and forth, a slow, peaceful and leisurely pace. I give myself time to stop and breathe, and I’m overcome with emotion almost immediately.
My life has completely changed. I am now hated and loved by many. People have tried to have me killed twice. I am an heiress. I was given money by a ridiculously rich man for no reason other than to teach his family a lesson. I am filthy rich. I have no idea what I’m doing. I am scared.
I am fucking scared.
“Thank you,” I whispered. If Jameson heard my voice struggle around the words, he doesn’t tease me about it.
“For what?” He stopped us. One of his hands guide my face to look up at him, then he rests them on my back. He has helped me so much. We’ve been through so much. I have depended on him throughout this process more than I have allowed myself to depend on anyone else at any time. I can trust him.
“For everything,” Is all I say, because I refuse to be too vulnerable.
He laughed, almost like he read my mind anyway. “Okay, you’re welcome,” He paused, let the music fill the silence for a while before continuing, “I would do it all again,”
He looked down at my lips. I looked up at his. We start to lean into each other. We start to believe we are the only two people in the universe, floating on a serene rock. Oren loudly clearing his throat snapped us out of it. As I turn to glare at Oren, my peripheral caught Jameson rolling his eyes.
“As great as this, I don’t think I’m ever taking you out on a date again,”
“Why?” I asked, panicked.
“I can’t kiss you in public anymore…” The annoyance dripped clean from his lips. I watch it.
++
Jameson and I stay out of the public’s eye together after that.
We were strictly forbidden from being alone for being outside together, especially after hours. Alisa sighed as she told me this and she gave me a look that said something between ‘I told you so’ and ‘poor girl’.
We’ve been either cooped up in my or Toby’s room for the past week or so. It’s okay, not great either. But it’s not bad. At least we get to be together somewhere. Today, it was in my room, Tuesday night, 9:00 pm, a bit cloudy, chilly in my room, b-
“Avery,” I added that to the short list of the times Jameson used my actual name.
I looked in his direction, placed my pencil in my book and my chin in my palms. “Hmm?”
“I want to date you, like for real, for real,” He said and then stared into my soul as I withered away.
My heart stopped. He smirked.
I knew we probably were going to be heading in that direction soon, but I wouldn’t be any less shocked if I was warned several times of impending danger, suited from head to toe in protective gear and finally hit with a dull pencil. “Oh crap,” Was the first thing to leave my mouth.
“What?” Jameson laughed but the concern, nervousness maybe, was etched on his features in the most subtle way.
I couldn’t answer. I am very rarely left speechless. But this wasn’t only the lack of words, I was tongue-tied, my brain was fried, and I was, I was--
He moved towards me apprehensively. He stood in front of my legs that hung off the bed. “Cat got your tongue?” He teased, as I watched him, gulping like a fish, “Should I take this as a yes, okay, sure jameson pal?” His right hand cradled my cheek, and my lids grew heavy.
I really couldn’t find it in me to move or speak or react in any way really. Jameson laughed again. “Do you like me that much, Avery? Huh?” His voice was light, teasing, and his smile pure devastation.
I drag him down to meet my lips. Hopefully it’s good enough of an answer.
++
All’s well, that ends well, is what they say. But truth is, I don’t know how this ends. I don’t know yet if my life has taken a turn for the worst, if the constant threat of life and well-being is worth the shit-ton of money I’ve inherited and the few friends I’ve made.
I’m trying to make do though. I’m trying to enjoy the down times while they’re there.
Libby and I got to baking around mid-day. She hadn’t been in the kitchen since her last case of over-apologetic baking, but I made it my mission for her to associate such a delicious activity with something sweeter. I didn’t want Libby hurting, nor did I want her to feel like she owed anything to anyone that she was sorry towards.
We talked while we baked. I brought up Drake and she dodged the questions like I did the bullet that tried to kill me some time before. She brought up Jameson and I stuttered through my answers, messing up a few batter measurements and blooming bright red.
It was fun though. I don’t know why I had never thought of baking with Libby before. The opportunity was right there. Libby was right there. She always has been. I try to resist the urge to have a repeat of my date with Jameson, but I cling to her mid-whip and whisper all the praises and mantras of gratitude I’ve neglected to say.
When we’re done, we pack up with and head to look for the other Hawthorne children. They’re playing strip bowling when we enter with a tub of cupcakes and plastic plates. My eyes immediately peek at Jameson who is only in underpants. I burn inside.
Grayson has most of his clothes on. It seemed like only his suit jacket had been lost. He looked me and glanced at Jameson, like him winning hadn’t been worth it.
Eventually, Jameson leaves the game to sit with me. He pulled a shirt over his head before taking a cupcake from my plate. His eyes danced with slight mischief, and I can’t help but smile.
Before long, we settled into watching the game continue together. I have somehow ended up on Jameson’s lap with his arm snaked around my waist. Oh no, how awful.
The intense game ends with Xander in the lead, Max not far after and Grayson in his boxers. When they finish, they finally joined the spectators eating, and a melodious conversation ensues. We talk and laugh like we’ve never done before. I feel connected to this group in a way that I haven’t before.
This is my life now. The Hawthorne family is my life now.
Life is fucked, but life is good.