Page 83 of Tell Me When It's Over

My eye twitches.

Harry grunts. “That’s right.” It’s a non-answer. Monotone. One I don’t like because that means he won’t push it. Questioning him, though, means telling him the reasons I don’t like the kid. He’ll want more than “he doesn’t sit well with me,” because, according to Harry, my instinct is shit. He informed me as much when I went solo and refused to work with him.

Katherine looks out the large windows that overlook the entire backyard. Leighton is sitting on the edge of the pool in a purple one piece that Mia bought her—instead of the tiny bikini she originally picked out that I vetoed in record time—with her feet swinging in the pool. Her friend is doing laps and talking to her, and Len seems to hang on to his every word.

She’s crushing. Hard. It’s obvious. The kid isn’t stupid enough not to know that, which makes me even more suspicious of his motives. I knew when she asked to go study with him, Nora, and one of his friends that she liked him. She never needed to study. She’s naturally smart and prefers working on assignments alone unless she wants to make sure something is perfect. Plus, she never invited Nora over before, which makes me wonder if Beckham found a way to sweet ta

lk his way here.

Mia says she’s old enough to date now that she’s almost fifteen, but I don’t agree. Her mother, however, does.

In fact, Katherine told Harry that they need to let Leighton ‘live her life’ instead of restricting her freedom. Something about reading a self-help book on parenting, which I’m not disagreeing she needs, and insisting the more locked down they keep Lenny, the more she’ll rebel.

Leighton. The same girl who watched me pick up a beer on my twenty-first birthday and stared at me like I was doing a line of shots. It was one beer. One. And I spent over an hour and a half nursing it. It’d been piss warm by the time the bottle was empty, but I couldn’t help taking my time when she looked at me with those damn gray eyes.

She’s not the type to rebel, and the sad thing is, I think Katherine is disappointed by that.

I can’t help but look out at the fourteen-year-old in question, wondering what happened to the shy girl who wouldn’t look anyone in the eyes right away. The one who always hesitated to join us like she was expecting us to tell her to leave. Two years have passed since she’s been here. Katherine has her own walk-in closet and a fucking diamond ring on her finger that proves they’re here for good, even if I still don’t like her mother. Our parents are engaged, but no wedding date is set despite the eldest Grier pushing Harry to start planning, and I hold onto that. It means Harry isn’t sure. It means he’s as doubtful of the woman as I am because there’s a lot to be doubtful of. She disappears for hours at a time still, treats her daughter like shit, and goes off over the strangest things. The fact I’m not the only one who has noticed tells me something isn’t right.

“Is he staying for dinner?” Katherine asks, wrapping an arm around Harry’s. He doesn’t move away like he used to with women who are overly handsy, something I’ve noticed that’s changed since the Grier girls walked into our lives. The bastard has softened, and it’s not because of the woman with the sharp claws currently sunk into his arm. It’s the raven-haired girl outside, giggling innocently as she splashes Beckham.

Harry looks at Lenny like she’s his last shot. I didn’t want to believe it at first, but I’ve seen on more than one occasion how his eyes brighten slightly whenever she makes conversation with him that would normally bore or annoy me. Hell, he keeps one of his guards on her every time she’s out without her knowing, and when I brought it up, he’d gruffed out, “Nobody needs to mess with her.” Which, for Harry, is as close to an “I love you” as anyone will get.

His dark eyes go out to the yard again, and Len must feel everyone looking because she glances over her shoulder. Her lips part when she locks on our watchful gazes, probably blushing if she were close enough for me to see.

She gives us an awkward wave.

Definitely blushing.

Beth breaks the watchful silence. “I made enough for everybody, sir.”

Harry grunts and peels himself away from Katherine and the rest of us, unbuttoning his suit jacket with one hand. “We already ate at the gala, but if the boy wants to stay he can.”

My jaw ticks when he disappears upstairs, leaving the rest of us behind. Seriously? He’s not happy with Beckham being here, it’s obvious, but he’ll let him stay for dinner?

“How is he with her?” Katherine asks me in a low tone, setting a palm on my arm. Her hand lingers, and I brush it off, eyeing her in disdain. Why does she care about how he treats her when she can’t even treat Leighton with any form of respect? “Don’t give me that look. I want what’s best for my daughter.”

Even Mia scoffs at that, but Katherine doesn’t seem to notice. “If you really gave a shit, you would have skipped the charity event and stayed here to meet him when she told you he was coming over. You would have made sure he’s good enough.”

One of her dark brows raises along with the corners of her lips. “Why would I need to do that when her guard dog is here? We both know you’re going to watch out for her regardless of who else is around.”

Teeth grinding, I glare at her.

She touches my arm again, but this time her overly done manicured nails dig in and don’t budge even when I try jerking my limb away. “I would suggest being nice to me, Kyler. Whether you like it or not, I’m going to marry your father. It would benefit the both of us if you accepted that now.” Her voice is low enough for only me to hear, and she knows it. “For Leighton’s sake, of course. I know how much you care about her.”

Is she shitting me right now? She lets go and pats my hand, sauntering off after Harry with an extra swivel to her step that makes my anger boil over.

It’s no wonder my mother brushed off the engagement news when I brought it up to her with a generic “better her than me” reply. She probably figured she’d been through hell long enough, so it was only fair that someone else has their turn.

Mia walks over to me. “What was that about? The woman looked like she wanted to eat you alive.”

Nostrils flaring, I shake my head. “I can’t figure out what the fuck is wrong with her. I mean, how could someone like her have a daughter like Lenny?”

My sister’s smile instantly warms. “That just proves what kind of girl Leighton is, little brother. She’s innocent.”

Sighing, my eyes travel back to the pool right as the girl in question lets out a shrill scream before being pulled into the water. Her laughter echoes into the house, pulling Beth and Mia’s attention over to her too. They’re both smiling.

My annoying, oftentimes right, older sibling has a point. Lele has the kind of outlook on life that I hope she never loses. With a mother like Katherine, she’ll need that positive perspective to survive. It’s her trust in people, the one she offers freely from the start, that worries me. It’s been drilled in my head over the years that trust is gained, earned through years of trial and error until you’re worthy of having it. When it breaks, it’s in seconds, and the person that once held it lets go of the broken shards before they get cut. And they always do. They’ll bleed for it.

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