Four

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❥ "𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘, 𝐒𝐎 𝐀 𝐆𝐔𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔?"

Avery rolled her eyes at me. "This is important, Ev."

"I say we bake again, I think that was really a bonding experience for Eve." Xander smiled at the red head, to which he got a small, half smile back.

Rude.

Avery's phone started ringing, and Thea's name flashed on the screen. "What does she even want?" I said.

Avery shrugged but answered the phone, tapping the speaker button. "What, Thea?"

"I know i'm not exactly a fan favorite, but, I think you guys might want to hear about this." Something in her voice told me she was being serious, even for Thea.

"What is it?" I asked.

"The paparazzi got a photo of Eve outside of Hawthorne house." Thea paused, as if to contemplate her next words carefully. "On a live gossip sight, people are speculating about a connection between Eve and Emily."

"Is this really surprising?" Avery shot daggers at me with her eyes and I fell quiet.

"No, but this is." Shuffling noises were heard from the other side of the phone until Thea spoke again, "Jameson and Grayson Hawthorne are now being accused of murdering Emily Laughlin."

Jameson didn't bother looking up, but Grayson looked like he was going to throw up. Eve wrapped a protective arm around his shoulder.

Don't. Loose. It.

"Okay, see you soon Thea." Avery hung up the phone and for a brief moment there was only silence. "I don't really know what to say."

"What is it with this Emily? Who was she?"

I laughed. "More like who is she—"

"She's someone we used to know," Xander cut in. "You actually look a lot like her." As if that wasn't already known.

"So, why are Grayson and Jameson being put in the middle of this?" She willed Grayson to look back at her— make the eye contact, and he did.

This wasn't normal.

Eve met my gaze, and in that moment, we both knew the effect she had on him. She could get him to do anything with just one look.

"I'm going for a swim." I stood up, smoothed my outfit, and walked out the door.

"I went into your room earlier." I didn't know if I was relieved or annoyed to hear Grayson's voice. Part of me wanted to smack him, but the other part of me—the one that was crazy for Grayson Davenport Hawthorne—wanted to kiss him. Hard.

Treading water with the eyes of Grayson on me was easier said than done, but I managed. "Why?"

"I found your papers." Grayson ignored my question. "You said you were done looking for your father, Ev." Ev. Every time he said that name, my whole body felt like it was on fire.

It's funny how one word from him can change everything I thought I knew. Staying angry at him was too hard, especially now that we'd been together.

Still, I didn't allow anything in my face to give. "What I do now is non of your business."

"Bullshit, i'm your—"

"My what?" I was done treading. "Boyfriend? Because It sure looks like Eve has taken my place in less than twenty four hours. So what are then?"

Grayson shook his head. "I need to help Eve. You know why."

"For the wrong reasons." I wasn't going to let him gaslight me. "There's a difference, Gray. The way you look at her isn't in a helping manner, it's the obsessive kind of look you've only ever had with Emily."

"I don't love her."

"Thank God we haven't reached that point yet," I said.

Grayson looked done with my snarky comments when he said, "You're blaming this all on me, but this is your fault too. We said no more secrets— no more lies— and I find this?" He held up a stack of papers in his hand. All of them about Grant Ruth, his face printed on every single page.

"Call me what you want to," I said, pushing myself out of the pool. Droplets of water slid down my face and onto the concrete. "but you were the one who ruined us."

And no matter what happened next, that was the one thing Grayson could never fight me back on.

3 MONTHS AGO—

"Mr. Hawthorne? Where art thou?"

Grayson turned around from his spot at the table near the pool, his gaze catching mine. A grin spread across his painfully beautiful face.

"Drunk? Really?"

"It's the fourth of July." I ran over to where he was stood and wrapped my arms around his waist. "So, we should celebrate."

"I think," he said, taking the bottle of vodka out of my hands and placing it on the table, "you've celebrated enough."

I frowned. "But I want to celebrate with you." Grayson turned around to face me, and I poked his chest. "I've missed you all day."

Grayson wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me in closer to him. "I'm sorry. It's just been hard."

"Why?" I whispered into his chest.

"Thinking about the past." In other words, Emily Laughlin. Even though I wasn't sober theoretically, every fiber of my being felt so.

This is how it was— when one of us felt down. The other dropped everything to make sure we were okay. We always looked after others, so this was our way of making sure we weren't holding everything in.

"I love you," Grayson whispered.

For a while, at least.

"I love you too."


















































a/n:

they make me depressed.

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 || 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞 Where stories live. Discover now