Beautifully Used (The Beaumont Brothers Book 2) by Susan Griscom Page A
Authors: Susan Griscom
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want to use you real name?”
“Huh?”
“For the book. Why don’t you want to use your real name?” I’d been so caught up in the beauty of her dress I had almost forgotten I’d even told her about my book.
“ Oh. I don’t know. It has some weird stuff in it, you know, like sex and some bad language. I’m not sure I want my mom to read it.” That explanation was only partly true. There were other things in the story that could be incriminating if a certain person were to read it.
“ I think you should use your real name. Who cares about a little bad language? A lot of books have the F word in them. Wow! I can’t believe you wrote a book. That is so utterly fantastic. I don’t think I could ever do that. What’s it about?”
“It’s about a college-age girl who finds a strange book in the dorm room she just moved into. Weird things begin to happen to her after she begins reading it. She’d grown up in a … troubled home, and the magic in the book helps her cope with things. It’s a little dark and edgy.”
“Sounds fun. I can’t wait to read it.”
It did sound fun the way I explained it. Using parts of my real-life experience hadn’t been fun, but the therapy it provided was tremendously helpful. I didn’t go into much more of the plot with Lena. Mainly because, even though I could write it, it didn’t mean I was ready to talk about it. I’d never told anyone about that time in my life. I didn’t think I ever would.
“What’s it called?”
“Giving Everything.”
“Well, we should celebrate. That’s fantastic!”
“Let’s wait a week. Until I decide whether or not I want people to know, okay?”
“Sure. Mum’s the word.”
Chapter 11
Brodie
I walked into my room having left the bar early. My head pounded from the heat as I walked over to open the window and allow some fresh air into my musty room. It was hot, but the night lit up as a crackling white light streaked across the sky followed a few seconds later by thunder booming through the air. I shut the window realizing it might start raining. It was the middle of June, and for some reason already scorching as if it were July or August. The thunderstorm wasn’t unusual though, and they frequently happened without any rain. It was nine o’clock at night, and my skin gleamed with sticky sweat from the unusual humidity.
The week had flown by, and I suddenly realized I hadn’t gotten laid the entire time. On top of that, I’d slept in my own bed … alone, all week long. Something was wrong with me. I’d taken my temperature, thinking maybe I had the flu, but I didn’t feel sick. Just, not in the mood for meaningless sex. That thought alone told me my mind needed a serious attitude adjustment.
I pulled my t-shirt over my head and unbuttoned my pants , letting them fall to the floor in the bathroom. As the tepid spray of water streamed down from the showerhead, I stepped in carefully, closing the glass door behind me. Closing my eyes, water spilled over my face, easing some of the pain behind my eyelids. Maybe the lack of sex was giving me a headache. I tried to imagine a girl I’d recently been with, just to see if it would get me in the mood, but the only female that came to mind was, shit … Gabrielle. Under normal circumstance, picturing Gabrielle was sure to get me excited, but knowing she would never have me left me with little more than a half hard-on and very frustrated.
After finishing m y cool down in the shower, I stepped out and dried myself off. Tugging on a pair of blue boxer shorts, I headed down the hall toward the kitchen. Towel drying my hair, I bumped smack into Gabrielle. She’d been sipping a freezing cold vanilla milkshake, and the entire contents were now all over my not-so-clean-anymore bare chest, as well as her own tank top.
“ Gah!” I shouted. “What the fuck?”
“Oh my God, Brodie . I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“Apparently not,” I said as she
“Huh?”
“For the book. Why don’t you want to use your real name?” I’d been so caught up in the beauty of her dress I had almost forgotten I’d even told her about my book.
“ Oh. I don’t know. It has some weird stuff in it, you know, like sex and some bad language. I’m not sure I want my mom to read it.” That explanation was only partly true. There were other things in the story that could be incriminating if a certain person were to read it.
“ I think you should use your real name. Who cares about a little bad language? A lot of books have the F word in them. Wow! I can’t believe you wrote a book. That is so utterly fantastic. I don’t think I could ever do that. What’s it about?”
“It’s about a college-age girl who finds a strange book in the dorm room she just moved into. Weird things begin to happen to her after she begins reading it. She’d grown up in a … troubled home, and the magic in the book helps her cope with things. It’s a little dark and edgy.”
“Sounds fun. I can’t wait to read it.”
It did sound fun the way I explained it. Using parts of my real-life experience hadn’t been fun, but the therapy it provided was tremendously helpful. I didn’t go into much more of the plot with Lena. Mainly because, even though I could write it, it didn’t mean I was ready to talk about it. I’d never told anyone about that time in my life. I didn’t think I ever would.
“What’s it called?”
“Giving Everything.”
“Well, we should celebrate. That’s fantastic!”
“Let’s wait a week. Until I decide whether or not I want people to know, okay?”
“Sure. Mum’s the word.”
Chapter 11
Brodie
I walked into my room having left the bar early. My head pounded from the heat as I walked over to open the window and allow some fresh air into my musty room. It was hot, but the night lit up as a crackling white light streaked across the sky followed a few seconds later by thunder booming through the air. I shut the window realizing it might start raining. It was the middle of June, and for some reason already scorching as if it were July or August. The thunderstorm wasn’t unusual though, and they frequently happened without any rain. It was nine o’clock at night, and my skin gleamed with sticky sweat from the unusual humidity.
The week had flown by, and I suddenly realized I hadn’t gotten laid the entire time. On top of that, I’d slept in my own bed … alone, all week long. Something was wrong with me. I’d taken my temperature, thinking maybe I had the flu, but I didn’t feel sick. Just, not in the mood for meaningless sex. That thought alone told me my mind needed a serious attitude adjustment.
I pulled my t-shirt over my head and unbuttoned my pants , letting them fall to the floor in the bathroom. As the tepid spray of water streamed down from the showerhead, I stepped in carefully, closing the glass door behind me. Closing my eyes, water spilled over my face, easing some of the pain behind my eyelids. Maybe the lack of sex was giving me a headache. I tried to imagine a girl I’d recently been with, just to see if it would get me in the mood, but the only female that came to mind was, shit … Gabrielle. Under normal circumstance, picturing Gabrielle was sure to get me excited, but knowing she would never have me left me with little more than a half hard-on and very frustrated.
After finishing m y cool down in the shower, I stepped out and dried myself off. Tugging on a pair of blue boxer shorts, I headed down the hall toward the kitchen. Towel drying my hair, I bumped smack into Gabrielle. She’d been sipping a freezing cold vanilla milkshake, and the entire contents were now all over my not-so-clean-anymore bare chest, as well as her own tank top.
“ Gah!” I shouted. “What the fuck?”
“Oh my God, Brodie . I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“Apparently not,” I said as she
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