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Chapter 4
Preston
The summer after my sophomore year, I finally shot up a few inches, quickly outgrowing my pants and proving to myself that Nancy really had taken part in giving me life. Unfortunately, I didn’t fill out at all and was still as “skinny as a string bean,” Mom stated. Her lips pursed as though annoyed with my DNA showcasing that “thing,” which was how she referred to my dad.
I couldn’t help the way I looked and was damned proud to finally have some outward appearance of Nancy.
Sure, anxiety oftentimes made eating damn near impossible, which added to my skinniness, but I also had zero desire to hit the weights or run on a treadmill for hours on end like Drake did downstairs in the gym. Physical activity didn’t interest me.
Whenever Drake disappeared and I didn’t have him to distract me with his Xbox or listening to Aerosmith together, I would sit and read to my heart’s content. Mom and Devlin left us alone a couple of nights a week or for special weekend getaways, and I would sit at the piano and reminisce about the many hours I’d entertained Nancy when she lived with us.
Mom hated the sound of the piano—it reminded her of what she’d lost when Dad transitioned. At least she hadn’t tossed it into the trash along with everything else Nancy hadn’t packed up in her rush to leave. I’d have been in a hurry too seeing as how Mom had rained hell down atop her head with screams and curses.
Sometimes, I would come up from the world I escaped into through music to find Drake sprawled out on the couch, eyes closed, his lips curled up a little. The first time, I’d been embarrassed as hell, but he’d told me how good I was, how he’d never heard anyone play like I did.
Red-faced and stuttering my words, I’d thanked him.
The next night he joined me, I gave the ivory keys all my lovin’, anything for Drake to relax and smile again. He preferred the more haunting type classical pieces, so I’d made it my goal to learn as many as possible regardless of what Mom thought of my practicing.
“What are you going to do after you graduate?” he asked, as the last notes from his favorite Bach piece faded into silence.
It was the weekend before our last year of school together. In ten months, Drake would hightail it back to Boston, never to return, and I would lose the only person who showed me a bit of attention. I’d hoped Mom’s marriage to Devlin would make her appreciate me like Drake’s dad did him, but no such luck. I still felt like a stain on Jacqueline’s resume.
Slowly releasing an exhale, I slouched on the piano bench and glanced out over the city lights against the night sky Drake had gotten somewhat used to. At least he no longer demanded we close the blinds the second he entered a different room.
My heart lay heavy in my chest, a sadness I wasn’t yet ready to face. “Not sure,” I said, my voice barely audible.
“Aren’t you going to work at Casswell Global? It’s all Jacqueline talks about.”
I shrugged, daring a quick glance at Drake, since I had to get my fill while I still could.
Eyes closed, he lay on the couch as usual, bare-chested, arms angled upward and hands clasped behind his head. Muscles rippled from his forearms down to where the dark hair on his lower abs disappeared into his sweats.
Clearing my throat, I tore my focus off him before he opened his eyes and caught me staring. The guy had the body of a god. Something I’d recently realized was sexy as hell. Life stirred in my groin, and I shifted, mindlessly playing a few scales in an attempt to distract my libido.
“I’m not really interested in the family company,” I finally voiced for the first time to one of the two people I could trust with that information.
Nancy had understood. I expected Drake would as well.
“Your mom will shit a brick if you don’t take over as CEO someday.”
She would, even though I’d never been good enough for anything in her eyes. Some part deep inside made me want to believe her annoyance with my existence was merely a front, a way to teach me how to be a “real man,” since she’d often spoken her hope for me.
Doubtful though.
Huffing, I dropped my hands to my lap, peeking once more at the guy who’d introduced me to wet dreams.
He studied me where I sat in sweats and a baggy T-shirt.
“What?” I asked, self-consciousness welling inside me as it always did whenever he looked my way.
A slow grin lit his bright blue eyes.
“What?” I repeated, my face growing hot.
“Make sure I’m around the day you tell her you’re going to head off and do your own thing. Please. Fuck, do I need to see her face when you drop that bomb.”
I snorted. “If I ever find the balls, I will. But you know me. I’ll be stuck behind my grandfather’s desk. Two PAs will be up my ass all day every day like they are hers, and I’ll shiver and shake like a leaf whenever I have to attend a board meeting. I’ll have an electronic leash by way of a cell phone, so my mom has twenty-four access to me to ensure I don’t mess something up if she can ever be talked into retiring—which I highly doubt.”
