My Lovely Jerk {Completed}

Chapter - 30

For the massive increase in reads, votes, comments and attention this story has gained in the past week ... I had to update!!! 

Here you go!

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“Why can’t I help?” I asked as I stood by Bryson who was standing right in front of the kitchen sink.

Scrubbing the skillet he used to fry our morning eggs, Bryson sighed. “I already told you, I made the mess, I will clean it up. In addition to that statement, there is really not enough room for you to help. Now, go to the bedroom and get your swimsuit on.”

I arched an eyebrow, “Swimsuit? I don’t have one, and if I did, why would I need one?”

“There is a small trail behind this cabin that leads to a secluded lake. Thought we would swim and lounge around on the shore today.”

I raised an eyebrow, “I thought you were afraid of sand.”

Bryson cut off the water and grabbed a dry dish towel that was on the counter next to him. He spoke to me as he dried the skillet. “It is a shore made up of rocks.” Glancing over at me, he grinned. “Worried about me?”

“When you like someone, you can’t help but worry about them,” I exclaimed right before I slipped out of the kitchen/living room and into the bedroom.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach at the mere replay of what I said to Bryson went off over and over in my mind. Trudging over to my suitcase, or the one I presumed was mine, I bent down. Upon unzipping it, I realized it was mine because it contained all my clothing.

I rummaged through the baggage in search for the swimsuit he was speaking of. Looking through it, I cursed Bryson for packing my bag because he just shoved the clothes in here. In return all my clothes are wrinkled, plus, nothing matches!

Growling, I immediately thought of taking the suitcase, marching into the kitchen and hitting him with the luggage bag.

Chuckling at the idea, I realized that was an immature thought. He probably didn’t know I had a pet peeve of wearing wrinkled clothes. Sighing, I knew I would have to deal.

Finally, my eyes settled sight on a neon orange bikini. Picking it up, I looked at the size to find that it was actually my size. "Wonder when he got this,” I mumbled to myself. I released a large exhale and was about to get up when my head started to pound. “Really? A memory? Now?”

My eyelids became heavy and before knew it, I was in memory land.

Four Years Earlier:

Elle’s P.O.V

“What are you going to do?” Kat asked as she leaped on my bed. Sitting next to me, she chomped down on some chips that she probably got from my kitchen.

I sighed, “I have very few opinions when it comes to my father. He is a very influential person. However, there is one person that he can’t influence.”

“Who?” Kat questioned with a mouth full.

“A guy named Frances Barkley. He is a reporter for ‘Gossip Magazine’ and loves to report dirty little secrets on my father.”

Kat looked at me with wide eyes, “What exactly are you planning?”

“To, like I said, destroy my father...”

Kat allowed the bag of chips to fall in her lap. With an exhale, she gave me a concerned expression. “Are you sure about this, Elle? I mean, you want to separate your parents. After that, you are going to split Peter up from his father. Followed by you self-destructing your father’s company. I mean, he is your father, Elle. You can’t cut the kind of ties you are saying you’re going to. I don’t think you quite understand all that you will lose in the process of this.”