Page 9
Chapter Nine
Willow
One of the masked men shocks me by carrying me upstairs and sitting me on the en-suite toilet while he runs a bath. When the tub is full, he looks over at me with his mask still on. “You need to learn to love yourself. Every part of you is so damn perfect.”
I scoff, and I swear he growls before he stalks over and wraps his hand in my hair, tilting my head back. “I’m serious. Men like us would kill for a woman like you.”
“So claim me as yours,” I stupidly say.
There is a long pause before he replies, “It’s more complicated than you know, Bunny. It will all make sense soon. Relax, because we are far from done with you.”
And with that, he leaves.
I remain in the tub for way too long; my hands wrinkle, and the water goes cold. I have never loved my body, always feeling the need to cover myself and hide my flaws. If I really think about it, maybe it’s my mother’s fault. She’s always told me to dress to my size, that no one should see so much of my skin, and that showing my cellulite is not flattering.
But you know what? Fuck her.
Fueled by an idea, I get out of the bath and wrap myself in a towel, my hair still dripping wet.
I need scissors. Storming from the room like a woman on a mission, I round the corner toward the stairs and bump into a hard chest. With an oomph , I step back but lose my balance and fall on my ass, dropping my towel and flashing all my bits to none other than Micah’s friend Jace.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” he says, a smirk on his face.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were coming today, or I would have been dressed.” I pull the towel back around my body, and he offers me his hand, which I take.
“Don’t get dressed on my behalf. I happen to really like the view. ”
I open my mouth, but snap it shut. My first instinct is to throw back a sarcastic comeback, but this time I don’t. “Well... thank you.”
Seriously, Willow. You thanked him?! I slap my hand over my face and he chuckles.
“We came in a day early to enjoy the quiet before your family arrives and bombards Micah with all the questions.”
“Good plan. They can be full-on. But as much as Micah hates me, I will have his back.”
Jace’s brows furrow. “He doesn’t hate you—not even close.”
Now it’s my turn to frown, but before I can ask what he means, he changes the subject. “Now, what were you doing storming around the house in a towel? You looked furious.”
“I was. I had an epiphany of sorts. My mom is always telling me to dress respectfully for my size and to cover my legs because I have cellulite, and I just thought, fuck it . So I was looking for scissors.”
He nods. “What does dress for your size even mean? I understand you’re not tiny, but you are beautiful and should be able to dress in whatever makes you comfortable. Though I wouldn’t suggest having your ass hanging out at Easter lunch, but I’m all for that in general.”
I snort and wonder why Micah hasn’t introduced me to him before the chair incident. Then I remember it’s because my stepbrother doesn’t like me.
“Would it be okay if I helped you? A second opinion could be insightful.”
Shyly, I nod. “Do you think Micah would be okay with that, since you’re his boyfriend?”
Jace smiles at me. “Babe, you leave Micah to me. Let me find the scissors and maybe you could put some clothes on. All that skin is making me hard.”
My face goes bright red, and before I can further embarrass myself, I scurry back to my room and slam the door. I swear I hear Jace chuckle.
Throwing on whatever clothes I can find, I make sure I look presentable. I don’t know why, maybe it’s because Micah and his friends are the first men who didn’t make me feel uncomfortable in my skin, besides my masked men. I scoff at myself— my masked men. I guess that has ended since my stepbrother has arrived early.
Once I’m dressed, I lay my outfit for Easter on the bed. A soft knock has me looking at the door, and Jace walks in, snipping the scissors in the air.
“Found some,” he says with a smile. “Now, what are we doing with them?” He walks over to the bed and looks down at the clothes. “What’s wrong with this outfit?”
I glance over at him and shrug. “I don’t know... it covers a lot of skin.”
Jace stares down at the ensemble a moment longer. “Okay, so first let’s get rid of these. You don’t need them; your legs are killer.” He picks up the stockings and throws them toward my suitcase. “The dress is pretty, so we can keep that.”
He then picks up the white long-sleeved shirt I was going to cut the arms off partway and tosses it in the direction of the stockings.
“But...” I whisper, and he looks over at me. “What about my arms?”
He raises a brow at me. “What about them? Are arms provocative?”
I chuckle at that. “No, but mine wobble.” Like an idiot, I hold my arm up and jiggle it to show him, and he laughs.
“Who cares? I don’t think I have ever walked past a woman and looked at her arms to see if they wobble. Plus, with no shirt, the dress will make your tits pop.”
“Do I want my tits to pop at Easter dinner?”
“My motto is: if you’ve got it, flaunt it.”
“What about if I get cold?”
Jace rubs his chin and then clicks his fingers, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Can you bring me my denim jacket to Willow’s room?”
He ends the call, and I open my mouth, ready to tell him there is no way his clothes will fit me. “What shoes are you wearing?” he asks, interrupting my train of thought.
“I was thinking these,” I say, showing him my tan ankle boots.
“Perfect.”
My bedroom door opens, and Micah strolls in, holding Jace’s jacket. “What are you two doing?”
“We’re picking Willow’s outfit for Easter lunch.”
“That sounds boring. I’m going to do whatever Zac is doing.” Micah smirks and throws the denim jacket at Jace. “You two have fun.”
Jace waves him off and I just blink like an idiot. I was sure he would snark some stupid, mean comment and tell me I’m an adult and can pick my own clothes.
“Put this on.”
Jace holds the jacket up, helping me into it, and I’m surprised that it fits reasonably well. Jace stares at me and grabs the scissors.
“What are you doing?” I ask him when he snips the material from in front of my stomach. He doesn’t answer as he does the same on the other side, creating a cropped effect. “Jace, you’re ruining your jacket.”
“Actually,” he says, helping me take it off. “I’m fixing it, and it’s your jacket now.”
“You don’t need to ruin your clothes for me. You don’t even know me. ”
The look he gives me makes me feel like he believes otherwise, but then he just smiles. “Babe, you are Micah’s stepsister, so we’re family now.”
My stomach drops—of course he sees me as a sister. He’s Micah’s boyfriend , I remind myself, and that is why I have issues with men. I’m clingy and needy, according to my ex.
“How come you guys came in early?”
Jace finishes cutting off the bottom of the jacket and looks up at me with a raised brow.
You’re an idiot, Willow. You already asked him why he is here early. This man is making me flustered.
“Do you not want us here?”
“It’s not that... Micah just never comes in early,” I say, then slap my forehead. “Duh, of course he came in early! He brought you guys this year, which I am excited about. Maybe this year I won’t be the butt of everyone’s stupidity.”
“Is your family not nice to you?”
I snort. It’s not that they’re not nice. They’re opinionated, and they want things to run their way. “They are nice. They just think at my age I should be in a steady relationship, engaged, and wanting to settle down and have babies.”
“And you don’t want that?”
He holds the jacket out again for me to put on, and I shrug, then slip into it. “It’s not that I don’t want it, but I’m barely in my mid-twenties. I only just found a job that I love, and now I don’t have a boyfriend, so being engaged and having babies is off the table.”
“I have no doubt you will meet someone and fall in love, Willow. And your ex is an idiot, by the way.”
I chuckle. “That I know. I’m still pissed about him leaving me tied to a chair.”
“I’m not. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise. Your little pep talk at the bar changed Micah’s mind about bringing us here.”
“At least something good came out of it. My embarrassment, on the other hand...”
He stands back and looks at me in the jacket, then smiles. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. The only shitty part was the hot girl tied to a chair wasn’t there for us.”
My mouth falls open, and I actually have no reply.
“The jacket looks amazing on you. Why don’t we go downstairs and see if anyone has started dinner? I’m starving.”
I slip the jacket off and throw it on the bed next to the dress. Jace holds out his hand and I take it, expecting it to feel weird, but he intertwines his fingers with mine and pulls me from the room. I can already tell that Jace is fun to be around—his presence makes you feel good, and I could really use that in my life. I hope now that we have met, Micah will be okay if Jace and I stay friends.
Jace and I find Micah and Zac out on the back patio, each with a beer in their hand. Micah turns his head as we walk out and his eyes dip to our hands. I try to release Jace’s hand, but he just squeezes it tighter.
“Does anyone have any requests for dinner?” Jace asks the guys.
“We were thinking about firing up the grill and eating out here. It’s nice out tonight.”
I love the back patio; it overlooks so much of the gardens. But when I look toward the lake, I blush, remembering my first night here.
Jace leans into my side and whispers, “What’s got your face that pretty shade of pink?”
I turn my head and blink at him. “Nothing.”
Micah pushes his chair back and stands, causing my heart to beat a million miles an hour in my chest. I just know he is pissed about me being here with them, not to mention Jace holding my hand—but he literally won’t let go.
“I’m going to get the steaks. Willow, do you want to help me make the salad?”
I nod, and Jace finally lets go of my hand. He walks over and takes Micah’s seat, picking up the beer that was left on the table and finishing it one go, all while staring at me. When he smirks and releases his invisible hold on me, I follow Micah inside, mentally preparing myself for what is coming.
When we reach the kitchen, he is silent, and I can’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry.”
He turns to face me. “For what?”
I shrug. “For being here. For holding your boyfriend’s hand.”
The fire in his eyes has my knees trembling. He stalks toward me, and I shuffle away from him until my back hits the kitchen island.
Micah places a hand on either side of me, closing me in. “I knew you were here, Willy, and I like to share.”
He stares down at me and doesn’t break eye contact. I think this is the closest Micah and I have ever been, and my brain short-circuits. “B-but I thought you hated me.”
That makes him smirk. “I never hated you, Willow. I just never trusted myself to be around you. There is a difference.”
“Oh,” I squeak.
Micah pushes back and casually gets out the ingredients for the salad, placing them on the counter. I take a deep breath, then grab a cutting board and knife, and work on chopping everything up, tossing it into the salad bowl as I go. He takes the steaks out, and we stand side by side and get everything ready. I must have died or been thrown into a parallel universe because this is all way too amicable.
His arm brushes against mine and I wait for him to rip it away, but he doesn’t.
“Have you planned on how you’re telling the parentals about not only having one boyfriend, but two?” I blurt out.
He snorts. “Nope. I know Carol has a list of potential wives for me and is already talking about how cute her future grandchildren will be. I feel like it’s almost cruel to rip the Band-Aid off during a holiday.”
“Maybe, but no crueler than they usually are to me during the holiday. Aunt Angie always tells me to watch my portion sizes while I’m serving myself food.”
His head snaps to the side, anger swirling in his eyes. “She what?!”
“It’s no big deal. She does it every year.”
“You don’t need to watch what you eat,” he snaps. “There is not one thing wrong with your body.”
I want to laugh, to tell him I could name a few off the top of my head, but the way he speaks with so much conviction has me almost believing it as well. “Thank you. Can I ask you a question?” He nods, so I push on before I chicken out. “After we leave here, do you think it would be okay if Jace and I stayed friends? If he wants to, that is.”
He bellows out a laugh. “I’m not his keeper, so you would have to ask Jace. But from how much he won’t shut up about you, I’m confident he would also like to be your friend. If you asked nicely, I’m sure he would strip you naked as well.”
Now I scoff. “He would not.”
There is no universe that someone as hot as Jace would want to see me naked. Micah hands me the salad bowl, plates, and cutlery, then he grabs the meat, a couple of beers, and a bottle of wine—along with a wineglass—and we head outside.
I place the salad on the table along with the plates.
“Hey, Jace. If Willow asked nicely, would you?—”
“Micah,” I warn. “Don’t you do it.”
Micah only laughs.
“Would I what?” Jace asks, confused.
“Want to see her naked,” Micah rushes out with a grin, and as mortifying as it is, it’s actually nice to see him smile. I have known him for so long, and him smiling isn’t something that happens often.
“I have already seen her naked,” he says, and I give Micah a pointed glare.
“It was in the top four hottest naked people I have seen, myself being number one, of course. I look fantastic with no clothes on. Actually, is that an option right now? Because these clothes are making me feel trapped. ”
“Keep your damn boxers on,” Zac snaps. “We don’t need to be distracted during dinner.”
My mouth is hanging open; it’s official, I have died and gone to heaven. A naked Jace would be a heavenly experience.
He rips his shirt off and dumps it on the ground, then stands, flicks me a wink, and removes his pants. Leaving him in only socks and boxer briefs.
“That’s better. Care to join me, Willow?”
I shake my head. “I will save myself the embarrassment. I’m not even comfortable in my clothes.”
“It’s freeing when you don’t give a shit about what people think about you,” Jace adds. But his argument isn’t solid enough to make me want to remove my clothes in front of him and the others, especially when they all look like they walked off a firefighter calendar photoshoot. All those muscles could make a girl go weak in the knees.