I take the elevator up and give Owen’s door a brisk knock. Piper appears on the other side and offers an ultra giddy hug.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to New York?” She tilts her head as if ready to scold me. Her dark hair is slicked straight, and her lips are painted a dark cherry. Piper really does clean up well. Okay, she’s drop-dead gorgeous in any shape or form, so in that respect I’m thrilled for my brother.
“I’m good.”
A couple of carry-on suitcases sit near the door with a baseball cap and an oversized Louis Vuitton tote bag slung over one of them. Owen comes out with his hair damp and slicked back, a WB sweatshirt on and a pair of jeans.
“Here she is.” Owen inspects me head to toe, and his smile drips off. “You heading to Harper’s tonight?” His brows furrow, and I know that look. His radar is up. Historically, once Owen gets suspicious, I’m all but busted.
“In the morning.” I offer up a quick hug, and a pang of sadness grips me with the lie. I’ve never been too keen on stretching the truth, and I’ve never outright lied to my brother before. But I have to keep reminding myself it’s for the better. It’s not like he’d let me go if he knew the truth, and this late in the game, it would only screw up his holiday, too.
“Cool.” He pulls back and inspects me one more time, his eyes straying to the short hemline of my skirt. “Pull that thing down, would you? You’re going to get pneumonia.”
Piper grunts as if he offended her instead. “Don’t listen to him.” She wraps an arm around him. “I’ve personally taken it upon myself to kick his big brother mode down a few notches.” She gives a sly wink. “Improvements might be slow, but, trust me, he’ll breathe easier once he sees there’s nothing to worry about.”
“You’re doing that for me?” Something in me loosens at the thought of Piper advocating for my right to exist outside my brother’s shadow.
She nods. “For you and for Owen. Right now, he’s shaving at least ten years off the backend of his life with all the worrying he’s doing.” She rolls her eyes at him. “Honestly, you’d think she was partying with drunken frat boys nightly the way you freak out every time she doesn’t respond to one of your texts in a five second window.”
I give a nervous laugh. I’ve been known to blow off more than one of my brother’s texts. And eerily, Piper really did come close to the truth about the whole partying with drunken frat boys thing. My face fills with heat, turning bright as an alarm as if assuring them of this very thing.
“So, you guys heading up tonight?” I know that’s the plan. Owen mentioned last week that they’ll be taking off in her family’s private jet. Piper’s family is loaded. And as much as I would have loved to have seen the inside of that private jet, seen Manhattan for a long weekend, I would easily trade all of the luxury in the world just to spend my days with Grant. And I have.
Owen checks his phone. “We leave in an hour. We’d better head out to the airport. What are you up to tonight?” He’s back to scowling at my hemline.
“Dinner with friends at the Black Bear.” I shrug it off as if it were the ultimate disappointment. “Then I’ll probably head to The Row.” My eyes widen fast, and I nearly slap my hand over my mouth. “Ro-romance department of the bookstore.” Dear God, did I just fake the stutter? I guess a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. “You know, pick up a few paperbacks to keep me company tonight when I get back.”
Crap. And to think that last week I successfully managed to stave off Owen’s inquisition regarding whether or not I have a man in my life. Like it’s any of his business.
Owen chokes and sputters as if he has a chicken bone stuck in his throat, and Piper shakes her head at me as if not to fuel the fire.
“Well, we’d better get going.” She lunges in and hugs me tight. “Close call,” she whispers into my ear, and I give the tiniest hint of a smile as she pulls away. Something about her solidarity softens me to her. I did like Piper in the beginning. I’m not sure where it all went wrong. Sadly, most likely our relationship soured once I realized how much Owen loved her. There’s a part of me that wants the spotlight in my brother’s life, or at least wanted to try to hold on to it for a little while longer—say, my entire stay at Whitney Briggs. But now that I have Grant, I can see how selfish I was. I truly would love for Owen to accept Grant one day.
“Romance books, huh?” Owen scoffs as he hugs me goodbye. “Whatever happened to picture books?”
I belt out a laugh. “If they ever sold pictorials of the stuff I read, I’m pretty sure it’d have a brown wrapper over the cover at the newsstand.”
The three of us take off together, and as soon as we head out into the frigid night air, we offer up another round of spontaneous hugs.
“Be safe.” Owen pecks a light kiss to my cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” He offers a jovial Santa-like wink, and it warms me to my toes. Owen has always held a magical quality to me that makes him much larger than life. I know for a fact Grant will love him.
Piper leans in and hugs me again. “Go slow, girl.” She pulls back with a wistful smile on her face. “We’ll talk about all the important stuff when I get back.”
Go slow? Either Daisy spilled or Piper put the short-skirted pieces together. My money is on Pembrooke.
The two of them wave like crazy as they shout their goodbyes on their way to the car.
Piper blows me a few kisses, and I actually pretend to catch them. Normally, I’d be this close to flipping her off, but now that I have Grant in my world I can handle just about anyone, just about anything. In fact, with Grant in my life, the air is sweeter, and my step feels light. My entire life has turned into a Valentine-shaped cliché, and I’m loving every doily heart minute of it.
Piper’s final words penetrate as I head to the Black Bear. It’s as if Piper herself is volunteering to fill those big sister shoes right along with Daisy. I guess that would be pretty cool. It’s obvious Piper and Owen are a forever kind of deal. If all goes well, she’ll be my sister-in-law one day. And just like that, I envision a floral archway, a minister with a Bible split open in the middle—but the bride and groom, it’s not Owen and Piper. I see a full white dress cresting at my waist. I see Grant and his mile-wide grin waiting for me at the end of the altar.
Grant and I sort of feel like a forever kind of deal, too.
The Black Bearis deficient of about eighty percent of its normal customer base. The smell of garlic fries lights up my senses, and normally, I’d be offended by the odor, but on this half-starved night it smells like heaven.
I spot Jet and his buddies headed toward the poolroom in the back, and a few Kappa G girls scattered about, but no sign of my man, so I take a seat at a table near the stage. Grant has mentioned a few times that he’s not crazy about some of the people here, which is weird because outside of the Black Bear he’s never mentioned anyone even remotely getting on his nerves, and then it hits me. He lost his sister. I bet her death was somehow alcohol related. Of course. That makes total sense. And I bet his appetite for steak is overriding the fact this place is actually a bar. In fact, the more time Grant spends at the Black Bear, I’m sure the less it’ll trigger his defenses.
A tall, gorgeous boy struts in with those dark cider eyes, those full lips I love to press against my own, and I can’t help but grin. Every girl in the place turns her head once he enters the vicinity, and there’s no way I can blame them. Grant Jones is a specimen that shouldn’t be missed. Something about his name spears me again, and I can’t quite pinpoint why. It’s as if there’s a memory attached to it, but each time I reach out to grasp it, it floats further away like a feather.
