Virginal Headlines: Love Between The Headlines

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Virginal Headlines: Love Between The Headlines Page 21

by Knoebel, Candace


  A waiter walked by with a tray of drinks. Quinn snatched one up, only to have it taken away by Harrison.

  Concern burned through the irritation settled on his lips. “We both know you’ve met your limit, Quinny.”

  “Stop calling me that,” she said with a gag. “Who’s the lucky gal? Shouldn’t you be attending to her?” She pointed to a younger blonde woman watching Harrison from the other side of the room. “What is she? Twenty?”

  “Twenty-eight, and she’s just a friend.”

  Quinn snorted. “A friend, my ass. Tell me, have you taken her to that super-secret dive bar of yours yet? Told her how alive she makes you feel?”

  I could have sworn there was a blush behind the reddish-brown scruff on his face, but it was too hard to tell.

  “Ahh…” Quinn’s finger clinked against her glass. “Still putting on the same moves, I see. At least I can have the dignity to say I was the first.” Something sad washed over her features, dimming the smile she struggled to keep.

  “Quinny…” Harrison’s voice softened as he reached out to her.

  But whatever moment had come over her, it was quickly gone. She tossed back the remains of her drink, then left us, calling out to a man just a few steps away.

  I watched as Harrison followed her retreat with something a lot like regret pooling in his eyes. Then, with a swift shake of his head, he plastered a smile onto his face.

  “It’s always interesting with her. Makes for a fun show, right?”

  My smile sloped into a pitiable frown.

  “Oh, don’t feel sorry for us. Everything always comes full circle. And if there’s one thing I know deep down, it’s that our story isn’t over. She just hasn’t realized it yet. If you’ll excuse me.”

  “Wow,” I said as Grayson put his arms around me.

  “Eh… that’s the usual when they’re in the same room.”

  “I’d almost say they should maybe bang it out.”

  His chuckle touched all the way to the bottom of my soul. “Bang it out?”

  “Yeah. You know. Have angry sex.”

  His hands grabbed my waist, pulling me flush against him. “I can’t wait for the day when we have angry sex.”

  Laughter pulled from my chest.

  “You know, I’ve always dreaded what she said.”

  A question formed in my eyes.

  “The player piece she was talking about. Back when I was going through my rough patch through the headlines—”

  “You mean, your serial dater days?” I said with a laugh.

  The look on his face plugged my laughter. “Yeah.” His voice dipped an octave. “I was always scared they were in it for the wrong reasons, you know? Looking to get some kind of inside scoop on me they could sell, or just to become famous. Love didn’t seem possible then.”

  My heart did a hard, swooping plummet, guilt fused in my blood.

  “There was this one woman. She was a journalist, but I hadn’t found out until after she had recorded a drunken rant I’d had one night about my dad and his new wife. She wrote a piece about it. Daddy Issues, I think it was called.

  It was. I remembered reading it, feeling my heart break for him.

  I felt like the worst kind of person standing there beside him. Knowing the truth of how things started between us. For even considering writing something as stupid and ridiculous as turning a real-life person with issues into a piece of meat for women.

  “Prim?” Brinley said as she came up beside us.

  I spun. “Hey, Brinley,” I said, hugging her to me.

  She seemed almost caught off guard by my action, her arms moving mechanically around me.

  “I wanted you to meet my date. You know… the one I was telling you about. This is Luke.”

  “Oh, yes.” I extended a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Luke. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

  “Same as well,” he said. He had a kind smile. Glasses that rimmed the whole of his face. Brinley glowed next to him.

  And Poppy said love didn’t happen to those who worked for Virago.

  “Now Poppy can stop saying he isn’t real.” She tipped her chin up in his direction, doting a loving gaze on him.

  “You should ignore her,” I said. “You know she just loves to mess with us.”

  “Do you know where she is?”

  I glanced past her shoulder. It wasn’t hard to spot Poppy. She wanted to be noticed. Found. She was in the middle of the floor dancing with two men, laughter cascading off her lips in an alluring song.

  “Yep.” I gave a swift point. “She’s trying to decide who her next victim will be.”

  “I really meant it when I said I loved editing your article, Prim. I’m really glad you’re working with us. It’s nice to have someone fresh around.”

  My heart let out a huge smile. “Thank you, Brinley.”

  With a slight nod, she headed in Poppy’s direction, Luke’s hand clasped firmly with hers.

  “Oh, Poppysaurus Rex,” Grayson said with a subtle shake of his head. “One of these days someone will come along and tame that wildness.”

  “Doubtful.” I twisted in his arms, straightening the collar of his shirt. “Haven’t you realized a woman never wants to be tamed.”

  “No?” he said, playing into it. His lips drew closer.

  “Mm. Mm.” I gave a small shake of my head, eyes locked in on his mouth.

  I was just about to kiss him when I heard, “Grayson?”

  We turned in the direction of a woman who looked like she’d just stepped out of a Vanity Fair shoot and into our tiny little bubble of bloggers. She wore a red dress that seemed to adhere itself to every inch of her curves. Her black hair shined almost violet, perfectly straight and casting shadows across her face. Her skin. Lord, her skin. Could it be fairer? More pristine?

  “Monica?” The short notes of shock in his voice raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

  “Oh my God. It’s been what? A little over a year now?” She rushed into a hug with him, arms full encompassing him. “You look so… so good, Grayson.”

  I sort of stood aside, watching their body language. My eyes roamed every inch of her. From the perfect shiny hair to the ankles wrapped with satin straps from her heels. From the way her hands slid down his back, almost sensually, to the way her eyes seemed to kiss the features of his face.

  There was definitely a history between them. More than likely a sexual one. She was a touchy one. Her hands were on his chest and forearms, moving with every word as she leaned into him.

  And there I stood, like a bumbling idiot.

  “Monica, this is my girlfriend Prim.” Grayson distanced himself from her to pull me against him.

  I had to admit it felt good to watch the shift in her features when he not only acknowledged me, but also claimed me as his. I might have been a stranger to dating, but I was no stranger to women. The catty expression in her gaze as she sized me up. The wheels that spun in her head.

  It was sad how women had been pitted against one another for the sake of a man.

  I didn’t want to partake.

  “Oh, right. I saw that picture of you two. I thought she was your new assistant or something,” she said with a brisk wave. “Didn’t you get my messages?”

  “You know I didn’t. And you know why.”

  Laughter fluttered past her lips. “Oh, yes. That silly day you decided to block me.” Her hands fell to her hips as her lips puckered out. “But I’m not like that anymore, Grayson. I’ve… I’ve changed.”

  “Monica, please. Don’t do this.” The words squeezed through his clenched teeth.

  Her lips sloped into a frown. “It was special though, right? What we shared?”

  Grayson looked toward me, his smile strained. “Monica, this is the exact reason I blocked you. You’re being very disrespectful right now. I’m here with my girlfriend. Now if you’ll please excuse—”

  Her hand pressed against his chest, stilling him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I
didn’t realize you’d graduated into the monogamy department.”

  Oh, I didn’t like her. Not one stinking bit.

  And she was going to be made well aware of it.

  Placing my hand on his chest, I gazed up at him with the most syrupy smile I could muster. “That’s the thing about finding the right girl. Makes a guy realize how much he’s missing out on. Right, babe?”

  I caught the tail end of a knowing smirk in his eyes before he said, “Absolutely.” Then he sealed the recognition with the kiss she had interrupted.

  Monica cleared her throat, taking a step away from us. “Well, I just thought I’d say hi. It was… nice… seeing you again, Grayson. Next time, let’s not wait a year, yeah?” Her lips snaked a smile toward me, then she pivoted and headed into the crowd.

  “She was intense,” I admitted, watching her retreating form.

  “To say the least.”

  I didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know more of his past dalliances.

  “Was that a note of territorialism I heard in your tone, Ms. Amberly?”

  My lips curved. “Perhaps.”

  He pulled me flush against him. Growled against my ear, a low, sensual sound. “You’re turning me on. Want to get out of here?”

  Did I ever.

  “Please,” I said as visions of his lips on my body ran in a torturous loop through my mind.

  Leveled Up

  “You really got it bad for this chick, don’t you?” Fin said as he dipped a spoon into his bowl of cereal he currently cradled.

  I rewound the cooking show on my iPad, trying to make sure I had all the right ingredients for the meal I was preparing for Prim. A meal that would surely soften her up for the confession I’d spent the past couple of days mulling over in great length.

  “If by bad you mean I’m in love, then yes. I have it pretty catastrophically.”

  “Damn, man,” he said through a crunching bite. “Does she have a sister?”

  “Four.”

  A lone, scheming eyebrow quirked up.

  “No. I know what you’re thinking, and it’s a solid no.”

  He snorted. “Don’t be so stingy.”

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I tried to mix the cake batter together without mashing the raspberries I’d just sprinkled in. I knew Prim liked pound cake because she’d talked about her mother’s as if it were the pinnacle of sugary concoctions. I only hoped I did the recipe justice, because baking was far out of my league.

  “Actually, no.” His spoon clinked against the bowl as he went for another bite. “Hey, did I tell you I signed up for this bachelor thing? I have an audition next week.”

  “Sounds fun.” I paused the video so I could add the batter to the buttered pan, thoughts pinging between the recipe and the night to come. Sliding the pan into the oven, I returned my attention to the iPad for the next part of the meal. Prim’s favorite—braised beef tacos.

  “Yeah. Hot chicks fighting for my affection. It’s a paradise of an idea if you ask me. I can just picture it now—hot babes lining down the block for a shot at this mangled, whiskey-soaked heart. You know chicks love trying to mend a broken man.”

  His words drifted somewhere in between the small crevice of space left for outside commentary. “Wait. Is this for the TV show?” I threw over my shoulder.

  “Nah. It’s for Virago. Some kind of new thing they’re trying. I saw an ad on my newsfeed. It’s like a local thing. New York’s bad-boy bachelors. I think my chances are high.”

  I spun around. “You don’t mean—”

  “That I’ll be in the crosshairs of Poppy if I snag the spot? Oh, yes. Yes, I do, dear old chap. Maybe this time she’ll realize she isn’t nowhere near over me.”

  My head swiveled. He was out of his ever-loving mind. There was no way in hell Poppy would be okay with what he proposed, and I didn’t want to be around when it blew up like a grenade in his face. “Let me get this straight,” I said, pointing a spatula at him. “You’re going to apply for this just so you can make her jealous enough to hopefully win her back?”

  His shit-eating grin was spread wide across his face, pompous and as arrogant as the word Live Free tattooed across his bare abdomen.

  My head shook. “You’re sick, you know that?”

  “Just your regular, everyday sadist.” Pushing his bowl away from him, he reclined on the stool. “What’s all this for anyway?” He nodded toward the counters littered with cooking supplies and the box of flowers I had delivered an hour ago. All yellow tulips. “You planning on proposing or something? Tell me now, so I can have you admitted before you take the plunge.”

  A throaty chuckle surfaced. “Nah. We’ve only been dating for a little over a month. I just… I want to make her feel as good as she does me.”

  He made a gagging motion. “Isn’t that about the sappiest shit I’ve ever heard? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

  I waved him off.

  After a considerate pause, he said, “No, really man. I’m happy for you. At least one of us gets to experience the big ‘ole L word.”

  I couldn’t explain the heat that brandished behind my rib cage, expanding out through my skin at the thought of telling Prim what my heart could no longer deny. Words that had been shelved long ago, left to collect dust.

  “It’s weird, you know. Feeling this happy. It almost doesn’t seem real.”

  “That’s because you’ve never met a good one before her.” He stood. Rinsed his bowl out in the sink, then put it in the dishwasher.

  “Should I find a place to crash tonight?”

  “Nah. Just stay away from the rooftop.”

  With a large hand clasped on my shoulder, he said, “Don’t fuck it up, buddy. You deserve this. She’s good for you.”

  She was. My heart had capitulated completely to her light. To her heart.

  And there was no turning back.

  My nerves drummed by the time eight rolled around.

  Prim would be there any moment.

  I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the tie I’d managed to change three times before settling on a gray one. “Prim, I’m in love with you,” I rehearsed to my reflection. “No.” I shook my head, adjusting my stance. “Prim, the way I feel for you… I’ve never felt it before. I’m in love with you.”

  You sound like an idiot. I adjusted my tie again, the fabric clinging a little too tightly around my neck. And you look like one, too.

  Pulling off my tie, I threw it on the counter and unbuttoned the top button of my shirt. Prim wouldn’t want all of this. It was too fabricated. Too formally informal. It had to be perfect when I told her. Every detail on point.

  The buzzer rang in the living room, and I swear my heart about leapt out of my throat.

  She had arrived.

  Jogging to the door, I unlocked it and pulled her rightfully into my arms. The place where I always wanted her to be.

  “Hey, you.” She laughed with her arms pinned to her side. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “You smell good.” My nose was in her hair, drawing in her scent. Rich like cream. Sweet like honey. What was it about her scent that made every negative thought dissipate? Every doubt. Every fear. She embodied hope. As if she were the very essence of calm.

  Standing back, I held her arms out so I could drink her in. She wore a yellow dress, tight along the bodice and flowing out at the hips with watercolor flowers along the hem. She looked like light. Pure and bright.

  “You’re stunning.”

  “And you’re handsome.” She planted a kiss to my cheek, then her nose drifted up. “Mmm. What is that glorious smell?”

  Taking her hand, I guided her to the stairs, then up to the deck I’d spent the past hour putting together.

  She gasped the moment I opened the door, hands cradling her mouth. “Grayson, this is… “

  “I told you I had a surprise.” I wrapped my arms around her waist as I pulled her against me. “What can I say? You bring out the rom
antic in me.”

  Yellow tulips swayed in small jars surrounding the seating area I’d created out of oversized pillows. Buttery light from candles flickered in the summer night breeze. In the middle was a makeshift table made from timeworn crates that held a plate full of tacos and the cake I’d made for her.

  She crouched and leaned toward the flowers, inhaling their scent. “Your mother’s favorite,” she remarked, a thoughtful gleam filling her cerulean eyes. “This is so beautiful, Grayson. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Just enjoy.” My heart expanded far past my chest, reaching out for her as I watched her take her time exploring the small haven I’d created for us. A cosmic pull charted between us, aligning in her presence. The whispered worry over confessing to her snuffed out by the blood pumping through my veins.

  She took a seat beside me, fanning out the hem of her dress. I served her a plate of tacos before making my own.

  “Did you make this?” she asked as she picked one up.

  A slow smirk tilted my lips.

  When she took a tentative bite, her eyes fell shut as a savory sound of enjoyment pushed up the delectable curve of her throat. “You’re amazing, you know that?” she said as she swallowed, then went for another bite. “My God.” The back of her hand covered her mouth. “I feel spoiled.”

  My smile grew. “Good.” When I was sure she was satisfied, I dug into my plate. We talked about our day. About her newfound fame. About the cameras that followed her around the city, and the endless phone calls from her sisters, who were all begging to meet me.

  When it came time for cake, we were leaned back, finding ways to touch each other. A slow finger dragged down her arm. A palm pressed against my chest. Exchanging heated glances as the kinetic energy between us expanded with need.

  “You know… the way to a woman’s heart is her man cooking her dinner.”

  “That so?”

  She tucked a hand between her legs, bunching up her dress in such a seductive way, then straddled my lap. With her other hand, she grabbed mine and placed it on her neck as her head dipped back.

 

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