The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(7)



It’s so far out of my comfort zone to even be thinking about such a life-changing decision.

“You’ll hurt yourself thinking that hard.”

I let my head roll to find Elliot’s gaze flicking between me and the road. His blond hair is styled perfectly tonight—gentlemanly, almost. Although that’s a ruse I don’t think he intends to give off.

Elliot Montgomery isn’t a gentleman. He would tell you that himself. He’s a self-proclaimed playboy and proud of it.

He’s also a beautiful human being. I know that. I see it. It’s in the way he cares for everyone he loves.

There are times in life when you meet a person, and they give off an aura so strong you’re immediately drawn to them. Their mood is uplifting and wholesome—it’s addicting, and in a moment of bizarre need, you become almost desperate to gain them as a friend. You want to know them and for them to notice you, to love you, for them to pull you into their lives and never let you leave, because when they do, you know you’ll benefit from having that person in your life.

That’s Elliot Montgomery.

An enigma, a beautiful friend, and a top-shelf playboy women trip over themselves to know.

“You’re wonderful, you know that, don’t you?” I tell him, still staring at the side of his head. I’m not the only one who feels this way. I see it time and time again with everyone he meets.

Men included.

“I do.” He gives me that panty-melting grin. “But what’s got you mushing up? You still upset over fuckface?”

With a deep sigh, I gaze back out through the windscreen. “No.”

I just don’t know what to do.

“You’re overthinking. You need to get drunk and go dancing. Or maybe you need to come.” He winces as if he knows it’s inappropriate, then grasps my bare knee, sending goose bumps fluttering under his large palm. “We’re nearly at the restaurant, hang in there, baby. The girls will know what to do.”

“Stop!” I chuckle, brushing his hand off. He has no idea what his words and touch do to me. I need to keep it that way. “I have so much in my head.”

“Then spill it.” He tightens his hands on the steering wheel, and my stomach clenches, making the balls knock and my eyes roll.

Mustn’t forget about them.

“I don’t know. It’s like I don’t even know myself. It’s lots of things.”

“You don’t know what you’re thinking?”

“No, I do.” I just don’t want to tell you. “I’m letting heavy thoughts settle, and it’s hard.”

“Because of Miller?”

“Because of life.” I dip my head, knowing he must be tired of this conversation by now. “I guess I’m scared I have to start all over again now.”

“No, Miller had to go, even if it took you over twelve months to realise it. This will be the best year of your life. Just you wait.” His hand glides across my chin, the soft tips of his fingers tipping up my face. I lift my head and look at him, catching his eyes before he darts them back to the road. “You know I meant what I said. Our pact.”

I dip my head to the side with a shake of the head. “You can’t promise me that, Elliot.”

“I can,” he snaps, making a smile fight its way onto my face. “It’s my life. I’ll do what I want with it.” He looks at me pointedly. “Because it’s my life, Luce, and I make the rules, for me, when I want to without worrying about what it might mean later.”

“You’re crazy, though.”

“Suppose it doesn’t count then, huh.” He taps his finger on the steering wheel, and I wait, knowing he has more. “What would fuckface do?”

“What?”

“Miller. What would he do?”

“You mean, would Miller offer up his… his…”

“I think spunk is pretty fitting.”

“God. I’m not having this conversation with you.” I shake my head and look out the window.

It’s like dealing with a child.

“Hey, I’m serious, talk to me. What would he do?”

I throw my hands up and let them flop to my lap in defeat. “Well, of course, he wouldn’t do that. He’s too… proper.”

“Exactly that. He is too proper—boring.”

“You’re mean.”

“But not wrong.” He pops a brow.

“He had his moments of fun.”

“Did he make you come?”

“Elliot!” I scold, tightening my lips to hold back the laugh that begs to join his free one. “You’re such an asshole!”

His smile doesn’t leave his lips as he says, “I’m just playing.”

“Well, it’s none of your business.” I peer out the window, shielding my heated face from him.

The car speeds up, and I’m forced back into the seat, my torturous body screaming out for more as my fingertips grasp the smooth leather under my thighs.

I sit straight, squirming a little when the balls roll. Chancing a look up at him, I find his blue eyes laughing with unspeakable promise.

“I know he didn’t.”





3



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