Chapter 14 #2
I love my brothers, I love the fact that Greyson is fine with facing down all of the important men in my life to make his place known in mine.
I love it.
Once, when I was younger and before I discovered Greyson, I was crying over a boy I had a crush on, and he was scared of my dad who approached him.
My dad told me that any boy that is so easily scared off doesn’t deserve me.
The ride to my brothers' new place is tense.
Greyson's body is rigid beneath my hands as we navigate the familiar streets.
I can feel the coiled energy in his muscles, the way he's preparing himself for battle.
It reminds me of that conversation with Dad all those years ago, and I find myself smiling despite my nerves.
"What's got you grinning?" Greyson asks as we pull into the driveway of the old Miller house.
"Just thinking about something Dad told me once," I reply, sliding off the bike. "About boys who scare easily."
His eyes narrow as he removes his helmet. "And?"
"You're not scared," I say simply, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him. "That means everything to me."
Some of the tension leaves his shoulders at my words. "Never," he promises against my lips. "Not of your brothers, not of anyone."
The front door opens before we can knock, revealing Cole in all his intimidating glory. At six-foot-three with the build of someone who's spent years in military training, he fills the doorframe completely. His dark eyes, so like mine, assess Greyson with cold calculation.
"Greyson Reed." His voice is carefully neutral. "Right on time."
"Cole." Greyson's response is equally measured as they shake hands, both men gripping the other just a little too tightly, holding eye contact just a beat too long.
"Come in," Cole says, stepping aside. "Harlan's in the kitchen with my girl."
As we enter, I take in the space my brothers have claimed. It's masculine but comfortable, with leather furniture and family photos already scattered around. The smell of something delicious wafts from the kitchen, making my stomach growl.
"Your girl?" I ask, curious despite the tension.
Cole's face transforms, the harsh lines into something tender. "Yeah. Wait until you meet her, Livie. She's…" He trails off, shaking his head with a besotted smile.
We follow him into the kitchen where Harlan is standing beside a petite blonde woman as she stirs something on the stove. She's beautiful in an understated way, with kind eyes and an easy smile that falters slightly when she sees us.
"Greyson, Livie," Cole says, his voice warming considerably when he looks at the woman in his arms. "I'd like you to meet Avril. Avril, this is my sister Olivia and her… boyfriend, Greyson."
The slight pause before "boyfriend" doesn't go unnoticed, but Avril steps forward with genuine warmth, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
"It's so wonderful to finally meet you." She pulls me into a hug that smells like vanilla and home. "The boys talk about you constantly."
"All good things, I hope," I reply, already liking her.
When she turns to Greyson, I hold my breath, but her smile remains genuine. "And you must be the famous Greyson Reed. I've heard quite a lot about you too."
"Have you?" Greyson asks, his tone carefully polite as he shakes her hand.
"Oh yes," Avril continues, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents of tension. "Cole mentioned you've been looking out for Olivia. That must mean a lot, having someone like that in her corner."
I catch the sharp look that passes between my brothers at Avril's innocent comment. Clearly, they haven't shared their full feelings about Greyson with her.
"Dinner's almost ready," Avril announces, turning back to the stove. "Why don't you all sit down? I made pot roast. Cole said it was Olivia's favorite."
As we settle around the dining table, the atmosphere grows increasingly strained. Greyson sits beside me, one hand resting possessively on my thigh, while my brothers position themselves across from us like a united front.
"So," Cole begins once Avril has served the food, "Greyson. Tell us about yourself. Things we wouldn’t know about you.”
"What would you like to know?" Greyson replies evenly, cutting into his meat.
"How about we start with your intentions toward our sister?" Cole suggests, his tone deceptively casual.
Avril shoots him a warning look. "Cole—"
"It's fine," Greyson interrupts, setting down his fork and meeting both men's stares head-on. "Your sister is the most important thing in my life. I plan to spend the rest of my days making sure she's happy, safe, and loved."
"And what makes you think you're the right man for that job?" Cole challenges.
"The fact that I'd die before I let anything happen to her," Greyson replies without hesitation. "The fact that she makes me want to be better than I am. The fact that she chose me, and I'll spend every day proving I'm worthy of that choice."
"What if those precautions aren't enough?" Harlan demands. "What if someone gets to her because of you?"
For the first time since we sat down, Greyson's composure cracks slightly, a flash of something dark and violent crossing his features.
"Then God help them," he says quietly, "because I'll burn this whole town to the ground to get her back."
The raw honesty in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. Avril's eyes widen, and even my brothers seem taken aback by his response.
"That's quite a promise," Cole says after a moment.
"It's not a promise," Greyson corrects. "It's a fact."
I have never been more turned on in my life, and right now all I want to do is bust out of here and sink to my knees in front of him. Take him into my mouth.
The tension at the table shifts, my brothers' expressions changing from hostility to reluctant respect as they process Greyson's words. I squeeze his thigh under the table, heat pooling low in my belly at his fierce declaration.
"I need to use the restroom," I announce abruptly, standing so quickly my chair nearly topples. "Avril, where…"
"Down the hall, first door on the left," she says, her eyes darting between me and Greyson with newfound understanding.
I practically flee the dining room, locking the bathroom door behind me and leaning against it, trying to calm my racing pulse. The raw possessiveness in Greyson's voice, the absolute certainty with which he claimed me—it's ignited something inside me that won't be denied.
After splashing cold water on my face, I return to find the conversation has shifted to safer territory—club businesses, the garage expansion, my brothers' transfer to the local college. But the undercurrent remains, electricity crackling between Greyson and me with every shared glance.
"We should probably get going," I say as soon as dessert is finished, not caring how obvious my eagerness to leave might be. "I have an early appointment tomorrow."
"It's barely eight," Harlan points out, his knowing smirk making it clear he sees right through my excuse.
"I know, but…" I flounder, searching for something plausible.
"She's tired," Greyson supplies smoothly, though the heat in his eyes when he looks at me communicates a very different message. "It's been a long day."
Avril, bless her, comes to our rescue. "Of course! Don't worry about helping clean up. We've got this!”
My brothers exchange a look that says they know exactly why we're rushing off, but mercifully, they don't comment.
"Thanks for dinner," I say, hugging Avril. "It was wonderful meeting you."
"You too," she replies warmly. "We'll do this again soon."
The goodbyes feel interminable, with handshakes and hugs and promises to meet up later in the week. By the time we're finally outside, I'm practically vibrating with need.
"Drive fast," I whisper in Greyson's ear as I climb onto the back of his bike.
His answering growl sends shivers down my spine. "Hold on tight."
The motorcycle roars to life, and we tear out of the driveway with more speed than strictly necessary.
I press myself against his back, my arms wrapped tightly around his waist, my hands slipping dangerously low.
Even through his jeans, I can feel his muscles tense as my fingers trace the edge of his belt buckle.
"Careful," he warns, his voice barely audible over the engine. "Or we might not make it home."
The thought of pulling over, of taking him right there on the side of the road, sends another wave of heat through me. I nip at his shoulder through his leather jacket, unable to resist.
We're about halfway to Greyson's house, taking the back roads that wind through the more isolated parts of town, when I notice headlights behind us—too close, too bright, moving too fast.
"Greyson," I start to warn, but he's already seen it, the bike accelerating as he tries to put distance between us and the vehicle.
The SUV surges forward, its front bumper nearly touching our back tire. Greyson swerves, trying to evade, but the road is narrow with steep ditches on either side.
"Hang on!" he shouts as the SUV rams us from behind.
The bike fishtails wildly, Greyson fighting to maintain control as we skid across the asphalt. I clutch him desperately, terror replacing desire in an instant.
The SUV pulls alongside us, the passenger window rolling down to reveal a man in a dark suit. He reaches out—not toward Greyson, but toward me, trying to grab my arm.
"Greyson!" I scream as fingers brush my jacket.
He jerks the bike hard to the right, putting his body between me and our attacker, but the sudden movement sends us into a spin. The world blurs as we careen toward a ditch. In the final seconds before impact, Greyson twists, wrapping himself around me as we're thrown from the bike.
We hit the ground hard, rolling across gravel and dirt. I feel the sting of road burn even through my clothes, but Greyson takes the brunt of it, his body shielding mine as we finally come to a stop.
"Are you okay?" he gasps, hands moving frantically over my face, my arms. "Livie, talk to me!"