Chapter 9
SYDNEY
“Yes, that’s it. Right. There!”
The door bursts open and I scream, jumping off my bed and falling on my arse. I scowl over at the man filling my open doorway, his wide eyes locked on my disheveled bed. Growling, I push myself to my feet and rub my now sore backside.
Great, that’s definitely going to leave a bruise.
Stomping over to stand in front of him, I cross my arms and tilt my chin in defiance. “Have you ever heard of knocking before you go storming into someone’s bedroom? What if I was entertaining someone?”
His blue eyes, a shade darker than mine, shutter in horror for a split second before he tosses his head back, laughing. My face drops in a scowl and my shoulders tense.
“It’s not that funny, you wanker,” I grumble.
Taking a dramatically long breath to collect himself, Jace lets out one last chuckle as he strolls past me and stands over my bed. Arms crossed, he tilts his head and whistles.
“Someone’s been hard at work.”
I walk over and stand next to him, taking in all the sheets of paper, various images, and an ungodly amount of Post-it notes scattered over my duvet. I lean over, fixing the one I was adding to phase two when my dear older brother decided to scare the living daylights out of me.
He picks up a google maps screenshot I printed out and labeled ‘winner, winner, chicken dinner.’ “I thought you’d already given an outline of your ideas.”
I snatch the paper from his hand and set it back with the rest of phase one. “I did. This is just a more in-depth version. I like to make sure there’s a plan for everything.”
“Oh, I know. I swear your favorite time of the year was back to school shopping. We’d spend hours in the folder section because you had to have the perfect one for each lesson.”
“Anyone who says red isn’t for maths is wrong.”
He throws his hands up in defense. “Yep. Sure. You’re totally right.”
I reach up and tuck a loose strand of hair that’s fallen from my messy bun. Ducking my head slightly, I lean over and align some of the stacks in an attempt to conceal the rising blush on my cheeks.
This feeling of slight embarrassment over my perfectionism with research and note taking isn’t new. I’ve experienced this almost all my life.
Sometimes from the man standing next to me, but then again, that’s what big brothers do, right? Let’s just say, Jace has always excelled at the annoying sibling role. Seriously, the guy could probably teach a master class on it.
“Hey,” he whispers, nudging my arm with his. “This is a really nice thing you’re doing, you know that, right?”
I shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”
“But it is. Not a lot of people would do all of this for just anyone.”
“Well, Lawson isn’t just anyone to me,” I whisper.
He’s silent for a moment before wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “I know,” he murmurs, pressing a reassuring kiss to my hair.
My little crush on his best friend isn’t much of a secret anymore. Not after he found my diary ten years ago where I stupidly scribbled ‘Mrs. Lawson Moore’ and ‘S+L’ on the cover. I must admit, it wasn’t my brightest moment at fourteen years old.
But, hey, I also never expected my brother to find it. On a positive note, at least it wasn’t Lawson. Good Lord, it would have been the end of my days if he’d been the one to find it. Truly, I would have found the nearest bridge to throw myself off of.
Luckily, Jace hasn’t made a big deal over the revelation. He gets major bonus points as the best big brother for it, almost enough to counteract his annoying tendencies. Almost, being the key word here.
“So, what’s this over here?”
I look over as he grabs a stack from my nightside table. My lips twist when he starts flipping through the pages of profiles.
“Are these…”
“Possible future girlfriends? Yes, yes they are.”
He looks at me, eyebrows raised. “And why do you have these?”
I roll my eyes and snatch the papers from his hands, setting them back on the table. “Like I said, I like to have a plan for every scenario.”
“And there’s a scenario where some poor girl is going to have to be subjected to dating Lawson?” He barks out a laugh. “Syd, come on. He would never go for that.”
“Why not? They all seem like suitable girls. One could even compete with him on who has more tattoos.”
“Sydney.”
I hum, moving around my bed. I stack each potential phase together before he can analyze any more of my potential ideas. When he stays silent for longer than is usually possible for him, I look up and immediately regret it. He’s watching me with his arms crossed and eyes assessing.
“Would you quit it?” I grit out and set the papers aside before flopping down onto the bench beneath my window.
“Quit what?” He takes a seat across from me on the edge of my bed. Lifting something from the duvet, he holds it up between two fingers.
I jump up and snatch the Post-it from him. Tossing it on top of the neatly piled papers, I ignore the urge to put it exactly where it needs to go and plop back down in my seat.
“Okay, seriously. Why are you doing all of this?”
I shrug. “Why not? Wouldn’t you?”
“I mean, yeah. If I knew how to help him with all of this I would.”
“Then why is it so out of this realm that I would do it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because I didn’t really expect you to vet potential women for him to date at some point? I mean, come on, that’s just subjecting yourself to torture, don’t you think?”
I drop my eyes to my hands. “It’s fine. If that’s what helps him keep his seat on the team and fixes his reputation, then that’s what we will do.”
“Sydney—”
“What would you have me do, Jace? I told him—no—I promised him that he could trust me with this. All of this is happening because of what he did to save me that night. This is all my fault, and I won’t stand by and let any opportunity that might help make things right, just slip away.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “And yes, if that something is setting him up with one of the many women in that pile, then I’ll do it. Because I promised I would make things right, and we never go back on our promises.”
“Especially the pinky kind,” he muses.
“Especially the pinky kind,” I echo.
Blowing out a breath, he runs his hands through his hair. His eyes lock with mine, compassion filling them. “You’re too good, you know that?”
“Well, I kind of did get a degree in all of this.”
He shakes his head with a low chuckle. “Yes, you are good at all of this but it’s not what I’m referring to and you know it.”
I roll my lips and bring my legs up, crossing them as I settle further into the cozy bench seat. “He deserves all the good he can get. Especially after everything he’s done for me. I have to make this right, Jace. I have to.”
“I know. But at what cost, Syd?”
Before I get the chance to answer, the sound of an approaching motorcycle fills the air. I turn to look out the window and my heart skips a beat.
The all-black sports bike slows and pulls into the driveway across the street. The rider stops, just short of the front walkway and the idling engine shuts off.
After setting down the kickstand, he swings his long leg over and rips off his helmet. Ruffling his dark hair, he props the helmet on the side mirror and turns.
“Ah, I get it now. This is why you fought so hard to have Mum let you switch into my room once I moved out.”
I startle at how close Jace’s voice is and bump into the window. The thump catches Lawson’s attention and he looks up, gaze freezing me on the spot. My smile is immediate, my hand lifting in a wave is not at all awkward. Spoiler, it’s totally cringe worthy.
Even from here I see the corner of his lips tip up before he drops his head and starts walking down the driveway. He looks both ways before stepping into the street and—wait.
Is he?
Oh my god!
He is!
I twist, readying to throw myself away from the window, but crash head first into my brother. Our heads bounce off each other and I collapse back onto the bench with my hand over my face.
“Ow! What the fuck Syd?” he groans, rubbing his forehead.
“Oh my god, I think you broke my nose,” I cry.
He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t break your nose.”
“How do you know? God! Why the hell were you standing so close, you knobber?”
“Why did you spring off of there like your arse was on fire, huh? And I know I didn’t break your nose because if I did, there would have been a specific crack. Did you hear it crack?”
I rub my nose a little more before dropping my hand and pouting. “No,” I mumble.
“Well, there you go. Your little nose is as pointy as ever.”
My jaw drops and I reach over, back handing his chest. “My nose is not pointy!”
“He used to call you Pinocchio when you were a little lass.” The deep timbre draws our attention to where Lawson leans a shoulder against the door frame.
I turn, scowling at my brother and he bursts out laughing. Growling, I jump over and tackle him to my bed. He grunts when my knee digs into his abs.
Strong arms wrap around my middle and pull me off of him before I can do anything else. “Okay, let’s not attack our older, bigger, stronger brother. We all know how this would end anyway.”
I spin around when Lawson sets me back on my feet and pin him with a glare. “Oh yeah? And how would it end?”
He smirks. “With you on the ground and his arse within dangerous proximity of your face. Trust me, I know what he had for lunch and you do not want that.”
Jace barks out a laugh and rolls off the bed. He brushes off his clothes and walks over, clapping Lawson on his shoulder. “I’ll let you two kiddies chat, I’m going to go see if Mum has any of that leftover pasta bake I can nab for the family.”
Lawson nods, but his eyes don’t move from mine.
“Oh and Syd?”
I lean around Lawson and glare at my brother. “Yes?”
He smirks, turns and sticks out his arse. My eyebrows furrow but then it hits me.
“Oh god!” I cover my nose and frantically wave my other arm in the air. “Jace! You’re so gross!” His booming laugh taunts me as it grows distant when he walks down the hallway and I groan. “Why did it have to be a brother? An older sister wouldn’t torture me like this.”
Lawson chuckles. “You love being the princess of the family though.”
“If you think Jace isn’t a princess, too, then you don’t really know who my brother is.”
“You know what? You’re absolutely right.”
I watch him walk over to my vanity. He positions the small fan towards the doorway and turns it on, doing what he can to rid us of the now poisoned air.
I tuck my lip to hide my appreciative smile and turn towards my bed before he can see my darkening cheeks. Flopping back onto the duvet, I stare up at the ceiling and wait for the giddy feeling I always get around him to subside before turning to look at him.
He’s already watching me, leaning against the vanity with his arms crossed.
Shifting to lay on my side, I prop myself up on an elbow. “So.”
“So,” he parrots.
“What can I do for you?”
He pauses and I swear I see his eyes darken as he stares at me laying before him. Clearing his throat, he drops his arms to brace on either side of him against the wood. “So you know that I had a call with Mitch the other day—”
I gasp, shooting up to a sitting position. “Did he hate my ideas?”
“No. The opposite in fact.”
I shift to my knees, bouncing on the spot. “What was his favorite?” I ask eagerly.
His eyebrows furrow. “Uh.”
My shoulders drop. “Okay. Were there any he didn’t like?”
He shakes his head. “No. He liked them all.”
“Only ‘liked’ though?”
He laughs and pushes off the vanity. I watch, trying not to fidget as he walks over to my bed and sits down next to me. “He more than liked it, okay?”
I squint. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
He holds up his hand, pinky out. I smile and wrap my pink-tipped one around his and he lowers his head, catching my eye. “I pinky promise.”
“Okay.” I settle back down into a sitting position. “Well? What else did he say?”
“Besides how amazing and smart whoever it was that came up with these ideas is?”
“Of course. That’s just stating the obvious.”
He chuckles, leaning back to prop himself on his hands. “He said he’s going to show the sponsors and investors to see if it’s all doable. And, if you’re up for it, he wants to see more of what you think will help.”
“Really?” I perk up.
“Really, really.”
I shimmy side to side. “Well it’s a good thing I went ahead and printed out all of my ideas then, isn’t it?”
I jump off the bed and grab my neatly piled stack of research. He goes to take it from me and I pull back, covering it protectively. “What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyebrows furrow. “You’re seriously not going to let me see?”
“Why would I?”
“Uh, maybe because this is about me?”
“And that just automatically gives you full access to my baby?”
His head jerks back. “Baby?”
“Brain child. Whatever! You’re missing the point.”
“No, I think you are, sunshine.”
I glare at him. “Don’t try to win me over with cute nicknames.”
“I’m not trying to do anything.”
“You’re trying to read my delicately put together proposal!”
“Shouldn’t I read something that pertains to me?”
“Well, yeah, maybe. But what would be the fun in that?” I completely turn my back, cutting off any access he might have to grabbing the papers and glare at him over my shoulder.
He drops his head back on a sigh. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” I walk over and stash the papers in a black folder—the perfect color for this mission—and slip it into my purse, knowing he won’t dare go for it if it’s in there.
I walk back over to the bed and hop onto it, sitting crisscross next to him. His head rolls to the side and he looks at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Fine, I won’t read whatever evil things you plan to have me do. But promise me one thing.” I nod and he sighs, a sense of vulnerability flooding over him. “Promise me it’ll all work out. That whatever this is will help and everything will be okay.”
I pause, sobering at his somber request.
Never has Lawson been the one to ask for reassurance of… well, anything. He’s always, always, been the one to console me. Not the other way around.
But now, as I take in his slight slumped shoulders and tired eyes, I know he needs this. He needs me to tell him that everything will be okay, just like he’s done for me more times than I can even count.
Lifting my hand, I hold out my pinky. “I promise.”