Page 10 of His Weekend Girl
“No 16-year-old needsthree fucking Lambos, Trixie,” Grant chuckled and she joined, “but his parents are going to give him whatever he wants. He’s a good kid, just spoiled as shit.”
“You weren’t?” She asked, ignoring his woodsy cologne that wafted in the air and filled her whole body. “I imagine you were?”
“I’m not saying I wasn’t.” Grant defended. He was the typical rich kid with too much money and very little supervision. His family was powerful. So, any charges against him vanished after they donated a lot. “But I didn’t want three fucking Lambos when I was 16, either.” He was silent for a moment. “I ended up getting the Beemer I wanted.”
“Oh, spare me,” Trixie rolled her eyes and Grant smiled. “I didn’t even get a car for my 16thbirthday. My parents wanted meto wait until I graduated from high school and even then there was an issue on whether I should get one.”
“What was the issue?” He glanced over at her.
Where do I start? Her siblings – a sister and two brothers – were so out of control, her parents were determined not to make the same mistake with her. Maybe it was because she was the youngest and a girl, but Trixie knew better.
If her parents could control at least one child, they were successful. Of course, Trixie ended up rebelling in other ways – she had one tattoo sleeve and was contemplating the other arm. She moved out to Los Angeles when the rest of her family was still in New Jersey.
Her body count was well into the double digits but not because Trixie was a whore, but because she loved sex. A lot of it. And she was rather irritated she didn’t have anyone worth spreading her legs to.
The more a balloon was suppressed, the more it fought to be free. “Control,” Trixie forced out a breath. “That was pretty much the gist of it. If my parents found a way to control me, they did.”
Grant nodded. “Subconsciously, which is why you drive so much now and you can control your schedule?”
Trixie considered. “Definitely.”
“Hopefully, you don’t have to do that anymore,” he glanced over at her, “hopefully, the gift can give you a break.”
“A small one, but not a major one.” Trixie immediately regretted her words. Grant didn’t have to give her anything if she wanted to keep it buck. She was grateful she met him when she did. Instead of driving up the coast to a palatial estate, she would be stuck in some parking lot waiting for an order. “I’m sorry about that. I do appreciate your help.”
“No offense taken.” Grant thought for a moment. “There is something I do need to tell you about this weekend.”
“Other than your insufferable family?” Trixie asked with a ‘let’s break this tension’ chuckle.
“About them,” Grant chewed his words, “I need to clarify some things about them.” He let out a breath. “They know you by your nickname, Princess, so I’ll call you that all weekend. Get used to answering to that.”
“Princess?” Before Trixie could even get used to the pet name and how sexy it sounded coming out of Grant’s mouth, she wondered what was going on. “You made up a girlfriend before we met?”
“I kinda had to,” Grant gave a small grimace, “it was the only way I could get by not seeing them.”
“Oh okay,” Trixie glanced over and licked her teeth, “what the hell is going on?”
Whatwasgoing on? It was a story full of betrayal, theft, and mind-fucking to the biggest level. Not even Hollywood or one of those many true crime documentaries could come close to what his family was. “Long story short, my family betrayed me and instead of apologizing, they want me to forgive and forget,” Grant explained, “and since it takes a while for me to do either, I made up a girlfriend so I wouldn’t see them.”
“You made up a girlfriend so you can avoid your family? And I just happen to come in at the right time?” Trixie blinked. Gone was the feeling that she was so charming and wonderful, Grant made a spur-of-the-moment decision and chose her. Instead, she was the missing variable in Grant’s messy-ass life equation. “Okay.”
The atmosphere in the car was colder than Grant’s AC. He didn’t want to keep explaining but he didn’t want to lead Trixie to a fire. “And you were sick for a while,” Grant explained another lie, “and you’ve always had events and what-not.”
“Events and what-not?” Trixie’s eyes widened. “So, your family officially hates me because they think I’m the reason why you couldn’t see them?”
Grant moved his head in a yes/no/kinda way that was completely understood. “You could say that.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Trixie steamed in her seat, “what else?”
“Yeah, there’s that other thing…” Grant began.
“What other thing?” Trixie turned to him. “What other thing, Grant?”
He motioned to the glove compartment. “Look in there. It’s in there.”
“What’s in there? A gun? You’re about to kill my ass?” Trixie freaked.
“No, I’m not going to kill you! Calm down!” This conversation was not going in the way Grant hoped it would, but he also lowkey knew. “Just go into the glove compartment, please?”
