Liars and Liaisons by Sav R. Miller

8

Grayson doesn’t speakthe entire five and a half hours from Aplana Island to Duris, a little community tucked away at the edge of the Berkshires. There are no people in the streets, enjoying life like they do on the island; as we pass through what seems to be the main hub of the town, I see a single cop sitting on a bicycle outside a small two-story courthouse building and nobody else.

It feels a little like being led to my execution, but I sit silently with my hands in my lap the whole ride, like a good prisoner. Because that’s basically what I am at this point even if I was paid to come along.

My mouth dries out at the thought of the two checks in my suitcase. I’ve never seen so many zeroes in my life, except when attached to a negative balance.

That kind of money is life-changing. I can’t back out of this deal now even if I’m still not a hundred percent sure what Grayson wants from me.

Swiveling my head a fraction of an inch, I steal a glance at him from the corner of my eye. One of his arms rests on the door while the other holds his knee in a white-knuckled grip. He stares out the window, completely immobile.

If not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, I wouldn’t know if he was breathing.

“You tell me what I can do for fifty, and I’m gonna fucking do it.” His words from before play on a loop in my mind like a broken record, and I can’t seem to move the needle. They fell heavy on the pit of my stomach when he first said them, and I couldn’t help wondering what that felt like.

Couldn’t help wishing I remembered our night together.

Something tells me I should be afraid of him, and yet I can’t locate the emotion.

His head shifts, and he catches me studying him. Those green eyes ignite with irritation. “I hope you haven’t suddenly developed a staring problem.”

A furious blush warms my face. “I was just wondering how much longer we have to drive.”

“We’ll get there when we get there.”

“Jeez. Are you always so chipper?”

“Not everyone can have the sun shining out of their ass.”

Smothering a grin at that image, I send another slew of texts to Cora, giving her the detailed itinerary she demanded when I told her I’d been hired as some Grayson James’s live-in maid.

She wasn’t a fan of the idea, but acquiesced when I swore I wasn’t lying and secretly moving in with Nate instead.

Though that would probably be preferable if she knew what I do about Grayson.

Which isn’t really much, except that he’s intense and he has no qualms about waving his money around. And that he seems to find my fear enticing.

That would make two of us, if I was willing to admit to it.

Eventually, we leave the ghost of civilization behind and travel into the mountains themselves, weaving through swatches of beautiful forestry. Black oak, wintergreen, and maple trees stretch against the horizon, cutting off only when the mountain range’s shadows begin glowing in the distance.

“So, you’re a teacher?” I ask.

The silence is unbearable.

He still doesn’t look at me. “I’m a professor. I teach composition and music theory to some of the most talented young people in the country.”

The career path doesn’t fit with the record label owners, artists, and producers I know exist otherwise in his family tree. “Why teaching?”

“What do you mean, why?”

I shrug, twiddling my fingers together. “It’s not really the glamorous lifestyle one would expect of someone in your family. You guys are on billboards in Times Square and on the covers of magazines, and you own the top percent of musical talent production out west.”

“Yes, well, I’m sorry the life I chose doesn’t meet your expectations.” He shifts in his seat, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

Assuming that to be the end of the conversation, I link my fingers together and turn to the window.

All I see is foliage, no matter which side of the SUV I look out, and the scenery makes my chest swell with excitement. Aplana Island is nice in terms of the ocean views and tourist propaganda, but I can already tell Duris is a different kind of serenity entirely. Something almost pure and untouched, and it feels fitting that someone would come here to escape the limelight.

Dark gray rain clouds roll in as the trees clear around a gravel driveway, and a massive house comes into view. Its dark gray stone walls are covered in thick vines, and dozens of tall black windows with green shutters give it a false sense of invitation.

The gravel drive curls around a circular patch of grass before the dark wooden front door. It’s framed by thick Doric columns and a short, slanted roof. The main part of the house seems to split off into two separate sections that jut back into the opposing direction.

“Holy shit.” I blink as the vehicle comes to a stop at the entrance, gaping up at the sheer size of the home. “This place is huge.”

I mean, I’ve been here before, but I didn’t really have time to appreciate the grandeur. Not when Nate and his older brother, Harrison, were practically shoving me in the car, as if the man inside was liable to rush out and ambush us at any given moment.

“Fourteen thousand square feet,” Grayson says. “Sixty acres, give or take.”

“The house I grew up in was barely even fifteen -hundred, and there were five of us in there.”

“Yes, well,” he says again, staring at me with a blank, emotionless expression. After a moment, it slides past me to the house beyond. “Extra space is nice when you hate your family.”

“Oh.” I can’t imagine hating mine, even at our worst. In fact, it’s my love for them that keeps me from going back. My love that keeps them safe.

“Let me guess. Your family is the bee’s knees, and you can’t bear the thought of being without them for even one second.”

“The bee’s knees?” A laugh catches in my throat. “How old are you?”

Liquid heat ignites in those green eyes, and my mouth closes, as if he forced it shut with the intensity of his stare alone.

“Too old for you,” he says.

“Good thing I don’t want you.”

He scoffs. “You don’t know what you want.” A pause, then, “I’m younger than Nathaniel though. What were you doing with him anyway? Aren’t there any nice men your age?”

“There are plenty. But you know what they say.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “There’s no substitute for experience. Older men have lived so much, you know?”

I’m taunting him, well aware that I’ve barely touched a man in my life, much less his brother. We didn’t go out long enough for that to develop, with both of us keeping busy and more than happy to leave each other with some light petting.

At the time, I thought he was being respectful of my unvoiced wishes. Now, I can’t help thinking Kal’s existence played a big role.

Or maybe he just wasn’t interested in me that way. Not enough to take it to the next level.

Grayson leans in, his eyes darkening. “What sort of experiences did my big brother show you, hmm? As I recall, you came for me at that fundraiser as if it were the very first time anyone had touched you. Either he isn’t that good or you’re all talk.”

Swallowing, I unbuckle my seat belt, indignation rising like a hot spring in my chest. I reach out, letting my palm snake slowly down the front of his shirt, toying with a few of the buttons. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing or why I’m doing it, but something possesses me.

That stupid, smug satisfaction on his face. I want to slap it off.

But he might murder me and toss my body off the mountain if I do.

Instead, I let my fingers trail lower, sucking in a quiet breath when I reach his belt buckle. His eyes stay on mine, and suddenly, the vehicle feels cramped and like we aren’t getting enough oxygen.

The sensations short-circuit my brain, and I shift even closer on the seat, mesmerized by how clear and dark his eyes get. As if his desire wipes away the cold, harsh shield he’s erected to keep others out.

Tilting my entire body, I let my mouth graze the sharp cut of his jaw. His posture is completely rigid, and he claws at the seat beside his hips, as if physically restraining himself from touching me back.

A flash of that night at the fundraiser whips across my mind—with me doing this exact same thing and wondering distantly why he wouldn’t move his mask so I could see his full reaction. I shiver, my muscles pushing me closer, and my hand slips between his legs.

He hisses through his teeth when I bump against his arousal; it’s long and thick and very, very hard, and I have the immediate urge to retreat. The intimidation factor just mounts, and when I run my palm along his shaft, I note to myself that I’m wildly out of my element here.

I have no clue what the next move is. When I look up at him, it’s clear he knows it, and anything else I might do would likely just be embarrassing.

So, instead, I give a little smirk and withdraw, shifting back in my seat so suddenly that he blinks several times before he seems to notice I’m gone.

“Either you’re all talk, Professor, or you don’t mind the idea of inexperience.” I bat my eyelashes, now reaching for the door handle. “Is that it, sir? Would you like to teach me how to be bad for you?”

His nostrils flare. “You should be careful what you ask for, Little Echo. Don’t promise what you can’t deliver.”