Michelle Madow - Diamonds in the Rough

“I’m definitely frustrated.” Brett stood and stepped closer so that he was right in front of her. He lifted his arm slowly and pushed her hair behind her ear, his finger brushing against her skin, leaving heat in its wake. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you. I meant everything I said to you. I know this is complicated, but I also know you care about me more than you’re saying. Be with me, Courtney. We’ll keep it secret for as long as we can, and then we’ll deal with any consequences together. I promise.”

Her heart pounded so hard she swore he could hear it. And he must have sensed that she wasn’t going to move away, because he stepped closer, his nose grazing hers. Every molecule in her body urged her to give in; this felt so right. But then images passed through her mind—the disappointment that would surely be in Rebecca’s, Adrian’s, Peyton’s and Savannah’s eyes when they found out she’d been lying to them—and with a will Courtney didn’t know she had, she pulled back.

“I can’t.” She shook her head, her cheeks hot, and she stumbled to the door. “I wish this wasn’t so complicated, but it’s about more than what you and I want. It’s about my family, and the family that we’re all about to become. If we were together in secret, I would have to lie to them. And as much as I care about you, I couldn’t live with the guilt of doing that.”

His hand dropped to his side, his eyes pained, as if she’d taken a knife to his heart. She turned away and hurried out into the hall, slamming the door shut behind her. Everything she’d said was true, but as she fumbled in her bag for her key, she wondered if she was making a huge mistake. Brett cared about her and wanted to be with her, and she cared about him, too.

But there were so many ways it could go wrong, and that positively terrified her.

Chapter 3: Peyton

As much as she hated to admit it—and she still hadn’t to Adrian and Rebecca—Goodman wasn’t as awful as Peyton had anticipated. Back at Fairfield High, each school day had been excruciating, having to sit still all day and listen to teachers drone on and on from the textbooks, talking down to the students when they asked questions. But at Goodman, instead of listening to lectures all day, they had discussions. The teachers treated the students like equals, most of them even going by their first names.

Her favorite teacher was her English teacher, Hunter Sterling. He was in his mid-twenties, and with his shaggy brown hair and dark eyes, he looked startlingly similar to Damon from The Vampire Diaries. His Australian accent only added to his hotness. To impress him, Peyton even tried reading the books for class instead of looking them up on SparkNotes.

She still wasn’t over Jackson, but her deliciously sexy bodyguard—who was also in his mid-twenties—had made it clear since the night they’d kissed in the elevator during the grand opening of the Diamond that they had to keep a professional distance. Peyton had tried to fight him on it—she knew she hadn’t imagined the connection between them—but he refused to budge. And as her bodyguard, he was around her nearly all the time, which made it impossible to not think about him. A distraction like Hunter was just what she needed—for her own sanity, and to maybe respark Jackson’s interest.

Which was why on a Saturday in late September, when she was walking through the Diamond after spending all day at the main pool, luck was on her side when she spotted Hunter sitting by himself at the bar. She reapplied her lip gloss and pulled down her sheer cover-up so that it showed off her cleavage. A glance behind her verified what she already knew—Jackson was on her tail. Perfect. This had to break his wall, or at least make a crack in it.

“Hi, Hunter,” Peyton said, sliding into the seat next to her teacher. Her skirt rose up her thighs, and she crossed her legs toward him, not bothering to pull it down.

“Peyton,” he said, clearing his throat. “I didn’t expect to run into one of my students here.”

“I live here,” she said, figuring he already knew that. Most everyone at Goodman had known who she was from day one, since Adrian Diamond was famous around this city. “I was just coming inside from doing some reading at the pool.” Strangely enough, it was the truth. If she had to do her reading, she might as well be outside instead of cooped up in her room. And sure, she’d only read for fifteen minutes before she’d gotten bored, but Hunter didn’t have to know that.

“For class or for fun?” he asked.

“For class.” Peyton never read for fun in her spare time—that was all Courtney.

“And how are you liking One Hundred Years of Solitude?”

“It’s okay,” she said. “There are parts that confuse me, but I’m doing my best.” Not having much else to say about the book, and hoping Hunter wouldn’t want to have some long, intellectual conversation about it, she was glad when Ramon, the bartender, came over to see if she wanted a drink.

“I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri,” Peyton said, wanting something refreshing after sitting out in the sun all day. Ramon knew she was underage and would give her a virgin daiquiri, but she was curious to see Hunter’s reaction. Was he cool, or would he call her out?

Hunter raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Ramon placed the drink in front of her.

“What brings you to the Diamond?” Peyton asked, sipping her drink.

“It’s slightly embarrassing, but I’ll tell you if you promise not to judge me,” he said in that ridiculously sexy accent of his.

“That’s only fair.” She smiled, trying not to bounce her legs in anticipation.

“I’m meeting someone from Match.com.”

“No way.” She laughed, but composed herself, since she’d promised not to judge him. “Why does someone like you have to use a dating website?”

“Someone like me?”

She gave him a once-over—tall, built, mysterious and a gorgeous Australian accent. “I would have thought you had a girlfriend, or at least would have no problem meeting girls at clubs and bars,” she said. “They probably can’t stay away from you.”

“It’s tough to meet people when you’re new to a country, know nobody and most of your colleagues are twenty years older than you,” Hunter said, taking a swig of his drink. “Plus, my best mate from home met his fiancée on Match, so he convinced me to give it a go.”

“And where’s your date now?”

“We’re not supposed to meet for another twenty minutes.” He glanced at his watch. “But it’s my first time here, and these hotels in Vegas are massive—I didn’t want to get lost. I’ve also never met someone from one of these sites before. I figured that grabbing a drink first might ease the nerves.”

“Cheers to that.” Peyton raised her glass, and he clinked it with hers. She smiled over the rim, her stomach flipping when he smiled back at her. “I hope you don’t mind if I stay here while I finish my drink?” she asked. “I’ll leave before your date gets here, of course.”

“She’s texting me when she gets to the entrance of the hotel, so you’re free to save her seat until she arrives.”

They chatted for the next fifteen minutes, and Peyton learned about life in Australia and how it was different from America. It sounded like the Australians were much more liberal and open-minded than Americans. Peyton thought she would like it there, and she told him so.

Then she spotted Madison Lockhart sitting across the bar with her short-haired blonde friend, Larissa. Peyton hadn’t liked Madison since she’d broken Savannah’s heart over the summer by kissing Damien—the guy Savannah had a crush on—in front of her, just to hurt her. It was cruel, and Peyton and her sisters had kept their distance from Madison ever since.