Initial Thoughts on Chenford in 6x07
All right... I'm feeling... a lot at the moment, so just sharing my initial reactions before seeing anyone else's. I'm sure my feelings will evolve. Also this turned into a GD essay and I'm sorry.
The Good
Grey acknowledging that Lucy was going through a lot ABOVE & BEYOND the break up. I just wish he'd mentioned the shooting, too. Lucy deserves to be more than her relationship with Tim and I need to actually see that in the future.
Lucy laying out 2 key things in her conversation with Grey - how easily Tim walked away and that he had no right to make that decision for her
Prior to the last scene (see The Ugly below), I thought Tim's interactions with the therapist were reasonably well done; if only therapy was that easy in real life lol
"You've always got a home with me" - I loved this final scene between Lucy and Tamara. I don't really have feelings either way about Tamara at this point, and this still hit me right in the heart.
Smitty's poll made me laugh, but also another solid indicator that these writers / producers do in fact really enjoy laughing at the expense of the fandom and shippers (which, whatever, I don't care that they do, I'd prob do the same; but it does irk me when people act like these writers should be worshipped because of all the things they "give" us)
The Tim
"I'm not depressed. I broke up with her."
"I was her TO." Not her friend, cuz god knows Tim has yet to deal with the fact that he started banging his former Rookie I suppose.
I dunno whether to put this in The Good or The Bad at this point; it depends on where they take it, so instead Tim gets a section all about why he's a dick.
To be clear, I do not like that Tim is a dick. But I actually do kind of like that it is very clear TO THE AUDIENCE that Tim is being kind of a dick. Do I still think people will bend over backwards to defend him? Of course they will.
From my perspective, I love Tim, I understand that he thinks he's doing the right thing, and has lots and lots of trauma. I've never seen Tim as a character that magically healed at some point between Seasons 1 & 5 (please see his storyline with his dad, his ongoing issues with UC work and unwillingness to confront or deal with them, his feelings about therapy historically, his inability to dump Ashley, etc. etc.). He's never been perfect and he doesn't need to be.
All of those things are true. None of those things give him a free pass to be kind of a dick. He still has to take accountability for how he treated Lucy (which, to be clear, was like sh*t).
The Bad
Lucy being petty AF with the invites to Tamara's dinner - let her be ANGRY, but give me villain Lucy over this dumb sh*t.
Lucy having no one other than Grey to talk to.
Others acting like Lucy is actually kind of pathetic (why do these writers love sh*tting on her so much? girl could not be down and kicked any harder at this point) -- Celina / Nolan and the double dumping crap, Lucy thinking Grey paid actors and him telling her she was out of her damn mind
The last interaction between Lucy and Tim. I am so angry for her. I needed to see that from her, but instead it felt kind of like her being dumped / a kicked puppy all over again. We got it, thanks. What's next? Lucy being incredibly happy with the hottest man on earth? I'm here for it tbh. Lucy plotting Tim's murder? Also here for it at this point. LOL.
The Ugly
I could not hate the implication of that final scene with Tim and the therapist and the door shutting more. There was ZERO reason they couldn't have had him show up during the day, and it actually disgusts me that they are pushing this line again, but especially with Tim. I am literally NEVER this dramatic, but in this case I really hope they did that to just get a reaction, because if anything were to actually happen between Tim and the therapist, I'd be 100% done with this ship and show as would a whole lot of the audience (I think). If I kept watching, it would only be to see Lucy be absurdly happy without Tim.
Well, what'd I miss? What did y'all think?
62 notes
·
View notes
secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1
max verstappen x perez!fem reader
genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy
cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything
word count: 3.1k
song: too sweet - hozier
sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3
♡♡♡♡
The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish.
It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you.
A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him.
Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate.
Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted.
You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a black over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.
Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth.
A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance.
“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”
With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption.
Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances.
As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel.
“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.
“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries.
“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.
“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room”
“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.
“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me”
Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it”
“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer.
Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”
“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around”
“You are really close with them, aren't you?”
“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them”
“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.
“Do you want something to drink” he offers
“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone.
“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”
Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.
“Is there something on my face?” You laugh
“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”
“Really? How so?” You question
“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck.
“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface”
“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms”
He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you.
You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan.
Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”.
He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible.
You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”.
“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more.
Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours”
You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this”
“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.
You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him.
“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”
That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.
You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive.
“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n”
You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”.
You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.
As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet.
Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.
That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.
Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.
The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod.
Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him.
You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity. You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room.
You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared.
You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way.
The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted.
Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that.
After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry.
Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant?
Simple. You won't.
28 notes
·
View notes
Before I tell you about my request, I have to acknowledge that you are so FREAKING amazing at writing!!
Don't know if you've already done these before, but Jameson's POV of when he first met Avery, during the will reading, when he first snuck into Avery's room, and when Avery was leaving Will Blake's ranch in tfg. It's probably a lot, but I've been wanting to read about these for a while and I also know a good writer who is capable of doing that. Also, just know that I'm probably going to request you many more things to write about.
first of all I'm HONOURED. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME. second of all, i really hope this satisfy you and is enough 😭😭I'm no jlb, this is completely of what I think jameson would have thought from my understanding. if you think otherwise please do let me know. again, it's completely from my understanding of jamie's character. also sorry it took so long.
NOTE: all four parts are here. pretty long. some copy pasted dialogues!!!!!! hope you enjoy.
Jameson meeting Avery for the first time.
It was not easy for the Hawthornes, everyone grieved in their own way. But for some reason the grievance was put aside today by everyone, Jameson would like to say he has put it aside as well but the bottle in his hand and the obvious intoxication would say otherwise. It is not a good idea to get drunk during an important time like the reading of the will of the great Tobias Hawthorne, and it's definitely not a good idea to leave your family hanging while one sits at the edge of the balcony, only supported by the railing. But that's exactly what Jameson Hawthorne did.
His mind was all over the place looking for something, something that would give him the thrill more than sitting at the edge of the balcony, drunk. He might have been wrong, but there was a two out of ten chance that he may be right. He refused to look away from the brown haired girl who was standing in the backyard, completely mesmerised by the Hawthorne backyard. As she took in the view he took in her features and movements. He finally decided to interact in the only way he knew to find out what she is.
“If yes is no and once is never , then how many sides does a triangle have?” His words slurred but it got her attention. She looked up to him, bending her neck backwards.
“You’re going to fall.” She told him.
He smirked. “An interesting proposition.”
“That wasn’t a proposition,” She said.
He offered her a lazy grin. “There’s no shame in propositioning a Hawthorne.” Jameson’s smirk grew a bit wider when she noticed that he was shirtless.
“You must be Mystery Girl,” he said.
“I’m Avery,” She corrected.
She looked at him like anyone who knew what recently happened in the Hawthorne family would look at him, wondering why his face was anything but filled with grief. He wouldn't blame her for being a little judgemental. He is very good at grieving in his own way and an expert at hiding it.
“Whatever you say, M.G.,” he retorted. “Can I call you M.G., Mystery Girl?” He was trying to taunt her at this point.
She crossed her arms. “No.”
He brought his feet up to the railing and stood. He wobbled, he could see her thinking about something with worry and panic when he put one foot in front.
“Don't!” But he didn't listen to her. He twisted and grabbed the railing with his hands, holding himself vertical, feet in the air and dropped. He landed right next to her.
“You shouldn’t be out here, M.G.” He told her.
“Neither should you.” He can tell that her heart is beating fast. It was so obvious. Janeson’s heart was racing too, he told himself that it was because of the stunt he just pulled.
“If I do what I should no more often than I say what I shouldn’t”—his lips twisted—“then what does that make me?”
She sighed like she just realised who he is. She was taking in his features to make sure, especially his eyes, and his abs.
“What,” he repeated intently, “does that make me?”
“Drunk,” She said. Jameson was about to say something else, he was ready with a comeback but she added two more words. “And two.”
“What?” Jameson Hawthorne said.
“The answer to your first riddle,” She told him. “If yes is no and once is never , then the number of sides a triangle has… is… two .” She didn't explain her answer, she didn't have to.
“Touché, M.G.” Jameson ambled past her, brushing his bare arm lightly over mine as he did. “Touché.” He was impressed and intrigued.
Two out of ten, this time the odds were in his favour. And now that Jameson Hawthorne got the answer he wanted from this Mystery Girl, he has no plan to leave her alone. That moment he knew she was special. And his grandfather brought her here for a reason. He will find out why.
The Will Read
Jameson made his way to his wing and managed to find himself a shirt and suit jacket. He checked himself in the mirror once before heading to The Great Room. Once he was inside his eyes looked for a specific pair of brown eyes but he realised Avery hadn't arrived yet. He went further inside and stood with the rest of his family. Soon he watched Avery make her way inside and made eye contact with him. He immediately gave her a cheeky smile and a salute, he can also noticed Grayson stiffened at his action through the corner of his eyes.
Once the lawyers made sure everyone who is mentioned in the will was in the room they started. First, they handed an envelope to everyone in the family and to Avery as well. They were asked to open the letters after the will reading. Jameson is already curious about his letter and what the old man has to say to him and to Avery Grambs. His eyes were fixated on her envelope for a whole minute before focusing on the reading prudently.
“Mr. Hawthorne stipulated that all of the following individuals must be physically present for the reading of this will: Skye Hawthorne, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris, Nash Hawthorne, Grayson Hawthorne, Jameson Hawthorne, Alexander Hawthorne, and Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs of New Castle, Connecticut.”
Everyone's eyes including a pair of green ones were on her. Avery Kylie Grambs.
“...To my daughters, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris and Skye Hawthorne, I leave the funds necessary to pay off all debts accrued as of the date and time of my death.” Mr. Ortega paused before speaking, he looked directly at Zara and Skye then back to the will.
“Additionally, I leave to Skye my compass, may she always know true north, and to Zara, I leave my wedding ring, may she love as wholly and steadfastly as I loved her mother.” Another pause, more painful than the last.
“Go on.” That came from Zara’s husband.
“To each of my daughters,” Mr. Ortega read slowly, “beyond that already stated, I leave a one-time inheritance of fifty thousand dollars.”
Jameson wanted to smile but he knew better, just like how he knew that his mother and aunt won't be the one holding the old man's entire fortune. It's not a surprise, none of them should be surprised that the person who would be taking the fortune would be the heir apparent, his brother, Grayson Devenport Hawthorne.
There was a mini quarrel between Zara and Skye on how Jameson and his brothers became the old man's favourite, how Skye gave them to him so that her sons would have the inheritance.
“Now, if I may continue…” Mr. Ortega looked back down at the will in his hands. “To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave…”
“Everything,” Zara muttered bitterly.
Mr. Ortega spoke over her. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee.”
Everyone heard Alisa’s audible shock. Unlike his brother Grayson who was utterly shocked and threw knives for the word ‘what’ Jameson Hawthorne thought that this is getting interesting.
The old man didn't leave everything to Grayson like everyone thought the old man would because of the way he was groomed. Or to Nash, or to Xander, or to me. There is only one person left in the will. There could be two things happening right here, and if his guess is right…
“The remainder of my estate,” Mr. Ortega read, “including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs.”
And it was indeed right, if you're smart you would have seen this coming right after they read that Tobias Hawthorne didn't leave his fortune to his daughters or his grandsons. The only blood related heirs. But now? A new heiress. Not blood related as far as he knows. She is not a random girl. He knew his grandfather too well to know that he wouldn't randomly write his entire fortune to a stranger. This is something. He doesn't know what she is yet. But he will find out.
Everyone's demeanour changed, especially Skye and Gray's. Not surprised. Even Avery’s, she is in utter shock, he can only say that much.
“...I assure you, there is no mistake.” Mr. Ortega met my gaze, then turned his attention to the others. “And I assure the rest of you, Tobias Hawthorne’s last will and testament is utterly unbreakable. Since the majority of the remaining details concern only Avery, we’ll cease with the dramatics. But let me make one thing very clear: Per the terms of the will, any heir who challenges Avery’s inheritance will forfeit their share of the estate entirely.”
“No will is that ironclad,” Constantine said, his voice acidic.
“Not when there’s this kind of money at stake.” “Spoken,” Nash Hawthorne interjected, “like someone who didn’t really know the old man.”
“Traps upon traps,” Jameson murmured. Trying to look into the old man's mind about this context. Trying to look into her mind. “And riddles upon riddles.” He looked right into Avery's eyes looking for something.
“I think you should leave,” Grayson told me curtly. An order. Typical Grayson.
“Technically…” Alisa Ortega sounded like she’d just swallowed arsenic. “It’s her house.”
“I don’t understand,” She said.
“My daughter is correct.” Mr. Ortega kept his tone neutral. “You own it all, Ms. Grambs. Not just the fortune, but all of Mr. Hawthorne’s properties, including Hawthorne House. Per the terms of your inheritance, which I will gladly go over with you, the current occupants have been granted tenancy unless—and until—they give you cause for removal.” He let those words hang in the air. “Under no circumstances,” he continued gravely, his words rife with warning, “can those tenants attempt to remove you.”
Oren stood between us and her.
“Oren!” Zara sounded shocked. “You work for this family.”
“I worked for Mr. Hawthorne.” John Oren paused and held up a piece of paper. It took me a moment to realise that it was his letter.
“It was his last request that I continue in the employment of Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs.” He glanced at her “Security. You’ll need it.”
“And not just to protect you from us!” Xander added to her left.
“Take a step back, please,” Oren ordered.
Xander held his hands up. “Peace,” he declared. “I make dire predictions in peace!”
“Xan’s right.” Jameson smiled, he knew it and he knew that he is not wrong about this. A random girl picked out from a random place far from home to be The Hawthorne Heiress, this isn't something regular, this a game. One of the old man's games. “The entire world’s going to want a piece of you, Mystery Girl. This has story of the century written all over it.” He reminded her about the media and how the world is going to talk about her.
Avery didn't say anything, she walked outside. He wanted to follow her but instead he opened the envelope that was held by him.
Jameson going to Avery’s room through the secret passageway
Avery didn't stay at Hawthorne House that night, he assumed her bodyguard and lawyer took her to one of the hotel's that was owned by Tobias Hawthorne and now hers. He saw her later the next day solving the keys, yet another game that proved that she is special, she solved it faster than any Hawthorne to start with. That night Jameson read his letter again and again, it took him one read to realise it was a clue, he can't help but read it again to see what it says, where it leads. But he also knew this would be nothing without the major clue, a walking brown eyed clue.
If he was a normal person he would have knocked on her door. Jameson Hawthorne is anything but normal. He walked into her wing and moved a picture frame to solve a simple puzzle to release a handle that popped two inches away from the drawer nearby the picture frame, he pulled it and twisted it four times to make the drawer and the wall it was attached to open.
Secret passageway. It was everywhere in Hawthorne House.
He made his way inside and made his way to his grandfather’s room, now owned by Avery. Once he was close to the fireplace he heard nothing, almost thought she wasn't there. But he gave it a shot anyway.
“Pull the candlestick.”
He wasn't sure if she heard because it was dead silent. So he spoke again “Pull the candlestick on the fireplace, Heiress. Unless you want me stuck back here?” His tone was frisky.
“Pretty sure this qualifies as stalking.” His lips curved into a smile once she said that.
He can tell that she was just pulling it. “Don’t just pull forward. Angle it down.”
She did as he asked. Once he heard the click and saw the gap below, Jameson lifted the fireplace up to the mantle to go through the opening. Once he was in the room he positioned the candlestick back to it's original form.
“Secret passage,” he explained to know if it intrigues her. “The house is full of them.”
“Am I supposed to find that comforting?” She asked him. “Or terrifying?”
“You tell me, Mystery Girl. Are you comforted or terrified?” He let me sit with that for a moment. “Or is it possible that you’re intrigued?
She didn't say anything but he knew the answer. She didn't ask him what he expected her to ask.
“You’re not asking about the keys.” Jameson offered her a crooked little smile. “I expected you to ask about the keys.”
She held the keys up. “This was your doing.” Not a question, he noted.
“It’s a little bit of a family tradition.” He said with a motive. He has done nothing but think about the will reading and raise questions to himself, whys and hows.
“I’m not family.” She tried to make a statement but wasn't sure herself.
He tilted his head to one side. “Do you believe that?”
“I don’t know.” She thought before she spoke. Does she know something? That was Janesons first thought.
“It would be a shame,” Jameson commented, “if we were related.” He spared another smile for me, slow and sharp-edged. “Don’t you think?” Jameson is good at a lot of things, flirting is definitely one of them.
“I think that you already have more family than you can deal with.” She crossed my arms. “I also think you’re a lot less smooth than you think are. You want something.”
Points to Heiress. She's quick.
“Everyone is going to want something from you soon, Heiress.” Jameson smiled. “The question is: How many of us want something you’re willing to give?” He spoke in a way that would make her want to give into him. But her resistance was stronger than he thought.
“Stop calling me Heiress,” She shot back. “And if you turn answering my question into some kind of riddle, I’m calling security.”
“That’s the thing, Mystery Girl. I don’t think I’m turning anything into a riddle. I don’t think I have to. You are a riddle, a puzzle, a game—my grandfather’s last.” He spoke and looked at her very intently. He didn't care how it sounded to her, he was sure of what he believed to be true.
“Why do you think this house has so many secret passages? Why are there so many keys that don’t work in any of the locks? Every desk my grandfather ever bought has secret compartments. There’s an organ in the theater, and if you play a specific sequence of notes, it unlocks a hidden drawer. Every Saturday morning, from the time I was a kid until the night my grandfather died, he sat my brothers and me down and gave us a riddle, a puzzle, an impossible challenge—something to solve. And then he died. And then…” Jameson took a step toward her. “There was you.” He tried explaining to her how Hawthorne House is, how his grandmother was. Why his grandfather chose her wasn't random.
“Grayson thinks you’re some master manipulator. My aunt is convinced you must have Hawthorne blood. But I think you’re the old man’s final riddle—one last puzzle to be solved.” He took another step, bringing the two of them much closer. “He chose you for a reason, Avery. You’re special, and I think he wanted us—wanted me —to figure out why.”
This point he was convinced that she was a puzzle to be solved or a clue that would lead him to something. Something his grandfather wanted him to find, to know. Because the old man knew damn well that Jameson Hawthorne could never resist a game.
“I’m not a puzzle.” Her heart was beating faster because of their closeness or because of what he's saying.
“Sure you are,” Jameson said. “We all are. Don’t tell me that some part of you hasn’t been trying to figure us out. Grayson. Me. Maybe even Xander.”
“Is this all just a game to you?” She put her hand out to stop him from advancing farther. He took one last step, forcing her palm to his chest. That touch shouldn't have excited him, even if it did, he didn't concentrate on it.
“Everything’s a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win.” He reached up to brush the hair from her face, and she jerked back.
“Get out,” She said lowly. “Use the normal door this time.”
“You’re angry,” Jameson said. Making her angry isn't helpful, if she's angry with him she may not help. Or see that this is a game, and she is a piece of it.
“I told you—if you want something, ask. Don’t come in here talking about how I’m special. Don’t touch my face.”
“You are special.” Jameson kept his hands to himself, but the heady expression in his eyes never shifted.
“And what I want is to figure out why. Why you, Avery?” He took a step back, giving her space. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to know, too.”
She does, she wants to know. She must.
“I’m going to leave this here.” Jameson held up an envelope. He laid it carefully on the mantel. “Read it, and then tell me this isn’t a game to be won. Tell me this isn’t a riddle.” Jameson reached for the candelabra, and as the fireplace passage opened once more, he offered a targeted, parting shot. “He left you the fortune, Avery, and all he left us is you.”
Avery coming out of Vincent Blake’s mansion (tfg)
Jameson wouldn't forgive himself if something happened inside, if someone happened to either of them. Avery and Grayson. Especially Avery because he let her go inside, knowing the kind of man Vincent Blake is. His heart could pop out any second, it was beating that fast. He tried to keep it cool with all the paparazzi outside. He kept looking at the gate, waiting for her. For her to come out alive and bring his brother, maybe Toby even. Whatever is happening inside, he prays that she is winning. Somehow she must.
His heart skipped a beat once he saw Avery come out with Grayson and Toby. He wanted to run and hug her, he didn't care that they'd cause a scene. but he stopped himself because he saw Toby talking to her, he slowly made his way to them and the car. To let her know he was there. He also let her have her moment with Toby.
He didn't know what happened inside, but from the look of it he can tell that Avery won. Whatever game they played, however she played, she won. And she was safe along with Grayson. That's all that mattered to him at that moment.
When she made her way to him, he didn't ask her what happened. “The knight returns with the damsel in distress,” Jameson declared. He glanced toward Grayson. “You’re the damsel.”
“I figured,” Grayson deadpanned.
“What are you doing here?” She asked Jameson. He can see the victory in her eyes, she was more open with him now that the first time they met. It was getting easier to tell what she was thinking.
“I thought you could use a ride home,” Jameson told her. She looked past him, expecting to see a helicopter.
“Pretty sure you aren’t allowed to land a helicopter there,” Grayson told his brother.
“You know what they say about permission and forgiveness,” Jameson replied, then he focused back on her with a familiar look—equal parts I dare you and I’ll never let you go. “Want to learn to fly?”
Avery smiled and took his hand. He still didn't ask her what happened, he just enjoyed her victory in the air. Just Avery and Jameson.
24 notes
·
View notes