Torque by Gillian Archer (have you read this book .txt) 📗

if he had, there was no way his response would be to roll over and accept it. This had been Austin’s baby. First the shop, and then the show. He had a whole fucking dynasty planned out. Magazine covers. Interviews. Meet and greets. Austin had convinced us all that it was the path we needed to be on.

And now he couldn’t give a shit about anything.

That familiar roil of anger twisted in my gut. First Dylan pulled a runner—although that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary—and now Austin pulls this shit. What the fuck was happening to my family?

Of course Ryan—the peace keeper—wanted to go along with this shit.

It was going to be up to me, like usual, to save the day.

Everyone else was too busy sleepwalking through their lives.

I pulled out my cell and made a quick call to our lawyer, Evan Stanton. But since it was after three o’clock on a Friday, the bastard wasn’t in. After leaving a message with his receptionist—and no, the irony wasn’t lost on me—I left the office, casting a quick glance at Austin’s closed office door.

I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but I felt more separated from my family than ever before.

* * *

The next morning, I sat on my patio with a cup of coffee, staring grimly at the pool in front of me. To say I wasn’t a morning person was an understatement. It usually took three cups of coffee to get me to answer with anything more than a grunt. There was a reason I’d lived alone.

And it didn’t help that my whole family was avoiding me. Austin and Ryan had their little private meeting. Dylan was still MIA—his motorcycle suspiciously missing from the parking lot. And Sabrina was driving back after vising her boyfriends’ family a few hours south last night. She, at least, had the decency to return my text. Unlike my bastard brothers.

To say I wasn’t in a great mood would be an understatement. I went to bed pissed off at my brothers, the production company, and most of the world—and woke up the same way. If not worse.

Although the honey sunning at the side of the pool was a pleasant distraction.

Hello, hottie.

I couldn’t see her face—she was on her stomach with her head turned away from the building, but her body was banging—curvy and plump in that way that got me hard with just one look. Her dark chocolate hair was up in one of those messy buns girls liked to do to keep their hair out of their face. It was easy to imagine it coming down her back in a luscious curtain. And me holding it in a fist as I knelt behind her…

Fuck.

I hadn’t met whoever had moved into the end unit, but it was past time that I introduce myself.

Ducking inside, I stripped down, pulled on board shorts and my favorite pair of flip flops. After grabbing a towel, some book Sabrina had been nagging me to read, and a pair of sunglasses, I shut and locked my door behind me and made for the pool.

I didn’t have any kind of a plan. Didn’t know what I was going to say. Or do. I figured I’d just wing it.

Reaching the condo’s pool, I tossed my stuff on a lounger. Ms. Hottie was in the same place, only now her head was turned the other way, so I still couldn’t see her face. From all appearances, and despite the book next to her, she was sleeping.

I didn’t want to look like the creeper I was clearly being, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I jumped in.

Diving into the deep end, I started swimming laps. My arms and legs moving in a comfortable rhythm. Soothing. After the second lap, I forgot about the beautiful girl I wanted to talk to. After about the fifth lap, I forgot my anger with my brothers. After the tenth, I forgot about my rage against our producer, James. After my twentieth lap, my stomach started growling.

Damn, I was hungry.

Resting my arms against the edge, I panted a little and took a break. My stomach growled again. Or maybe I was done. I needed breakfast.

“I didn’t know you kept up with your swimming,” Maddie’s voice sounded from my left.

I turned my head and because of the quick glimpse of her I got, I lost my grip. I plunged back into the pool with a splash, water invading my lungs.

Ms. Hottie was Maddie.

Maddie.

As in my little sister’s best friend, Maddie.

The revelation looped in my brain as I fought back to the surface. Breaking through, I coughed as I tried to breathe again. I pulled myself up onto deck, splayed out on my belly. But I didn’t stay there long.

Hands pulled against torso, urging me to my side. I blinked, and Maddie’s face came into focus as she hovered worriedly above me.

“Oh my god. Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?”

I tried to scoff, but it came out a rough cough and forced more liquid outta me.

“Let’s get you into the recovery position. Hand under your head and this leg bent.”

My eyes crossed as Maddie leaned over me, her plump breasts straining against her itty-bitty bikini and only centimeters from my mouth.

When the hell did little Maddie Roberts get a body like that?

Christ, how had I missed all of this?

“Nathan? Nathan, are you okay? Oh god. I’m just gonna run in and grab Hope. She’s taken some first aid classes for the Boys and Girls Club. She’ll know what to do.”

The panic in her voice snapped me out of my haze. “Maddie, I’m fine.”

My wheezing breaths belied my words, but I’d stopped her from racing away.

Although, given the way her tits bounced with only a few steps, I was kinda sad when she stopped moving.

Fuck, what was wrong with me? This was my little sister’s best friend. Maddie firmly belonged in the friend zone. No matter how little her bikini was