Rory Jess Novels & Stories

she faced me with a devious glare. “I need a drink,” I reasoned. Jace tilted his head to the side. I pursed my lips, realizing that I blew up my cover. “Hm,” Gail looked unconvinced. What’s with people not believing everything I say today? Well, technically, I’m lying to them. “Oh, this is my cousin, Jace. Jace, this is Rory, a good friend of mine.” “Ah, we already met,” Jace answered. “She fell for me that day.”

Kairos like them competitive and independent while I am as Rory Spencer am not, especially myself. Rory is a nepo baby. She does runway shows for some luxurious brands and that's it though she graduated with a business degree from Harvard she never used it. It's more of a decoration than a tool because who needs to work when your parents own the biggest chains of hotels in the country? No one, not even me would bother to lift my finger.

"It's from Roy, Lyn." The smile that had been on Jess's lips disappeared.

They're both hotheads, but they both care about each other deeply. Rory has been coming to the gym with me every day. I was happy to be training with someone I trusted completely. She has been in a funk mostly because Josh wasn't getting any better. At least he wasn't getting any worse. Slick has been helping us with shooting whenever he could. He's been busy trying to find where Matteo had been hiding out. I'd only really seen him three times in the past couple weeks. Rory would push Slick whenever she could for information- much to my surprise he never let anything slip.

How did things end up with Kiran? After his failed attempt at a kiss, "I told him about the divorce." "WHAT! He exclaims, " Do I have to go kick this guy's rear, or what?"" Tyson Fury is no challenge; he understands the deal, and I made him straighten up. Rory moves in with a grin and presses his lips to mine. He grins and says, "I can't blame the guy, I suppose." The dust has caked his face, and his clothing no longer resembles the ones he wore to leave my apartment this morning. Rory isn't afraid to get his hands filthy, and to be honest, I find that kind of gritty roughness in a man really appealing.

“Yes.” “What’s your name?” Theo asked again, voice neutral. “You must’ve forgotten it,” Rory said with a soft giggle. “Back when I saved you, you didn’t ask for my name.” Theo’s expression didn’t change, but inside, something itched. The girl who saved him didn’t flirt. She hadn’t even spoken a word. “I asked you your name,” he repeated—flat, cold. “Rory. Rory Brown. The eldest.” Her voice was soft now, rehearsed.

Not after watching the Moon Goddess stitch him to Nora while I stood there smiling like I wasn’t cracking down the middle. A sharp knock snapped me out of it. “Go away,” I called, sharper than I meant. The door opened anyway—because apparently consent and boundaries weren’t in the Caine dictionary. Rory strolled in, smirk already in place, a tray balanced in his hands like this was some lazy Sunday brunch instead of my personal crisis. Freshly showered, black slacks hanging easy on his hips, dark green Henley clinging to lean muscle. He wore charm the way Callum wore command—effortless, dangerous.

Oh, God so help her. Suddenly, Axel was pushed away by a strong force. “Get your f u cking hands off of her!” Rory screeched, pulling her behind her as she glared at Axel who was only a few inches taller than her, a six-foot-tall XL woman. Rory was was clearly intimidating, with a body full of tattoos, heavy dark makeup, and a boyish pixie cut. But, Axel being Axel, merely frowned at her with his group of muscular Upsilons behind him. Truth be told, only his presence alone can match Rory but with his muscular Upsilons, Rory just appeared like a street-gangster. No offense meant.

Snap out of it, Rory. "Yep." . . . ______________________________