Jameson Hawthorne wasn't good at stopping. He never was, at least, before you came along. A random teenager, who soon turned into the richest teenager.

You had chosen him over Grayson, his brother, but he was still consumed over the feeling that you wished that he were his brother.

All it took was one simple word to know what you were thinking; Tahiti. A word that, once it is said, the other partner must tell the truth and only the truth.

He knew better. He trusted you. Still, he was worried, day and night. Grayson had always been the better one. Grayson had always been the champion. The heir apparent.

All because of his grandfather's games, it made him sickeningly frustrated. He avoided you.

He slipped out of bed every early morning before you awoke, hid around the mansion, and went literally anywhere but towards you until it was time to go to bed (he slept with you most nights).

One day, you caught him in the rock climbing room. Finally. At first, it was surprising that the Hawthorne House even had a rock climbing room, but with all the riddles and mysteries here... no one knew what to expect next.

"Heiress." He says, greeting you in an almost distant tone. Although he was out of sight so far up, you could hear his voice.

"And here I was, thinking you were spending all your days thinking about Grayson, hm?" He says sarcastically, another one of his stupid defense mechanisms to keep him from getting hurt.

He couldn't afford to be vulnerable, but he was slowly slipping and giving into you.