She started for the door. Pulled it open, leaning her head against the frame.
I wouldn’t leave without calling her bluff. Without knowing for sure if she was into me. I stopped in front of her. Moved my lips a breath from hers, keeping my eyes fastened on them. To the irresistible slope my tongue wanted to ride down.
She didn’t move as her chest heaved up and down at a clipped pace. The current in the air on full blast.
With a smirk, I said, “You’re stubborn. I get it. But guess what. So am I.” Pulling away from her, I headed to the door. Tipping my proverbial hat, I added, “Until next time, Miss Amberly.”
The Most Fun
Grayson
Prim stands in front of me, her hand extended, but she can’t get past the mob of blurred faces blockading me. The soothing trill of her voice lifts above the crowd, shimmering like the brightest star, but I can’t make out what she’s trying to tell me. There’s a loud pop, and then the harsh strobes of camera lights flicker across her face.
She turns and runs.
I chase after her, only to find myself in the middle of a burning room. Flames lick the walls in angry spirals. Smoke rises from the ground with hazy fingers, swiping and clawing at my throat. I spot her Kindle on the ground, inches away. I know she’s there, trapped as I am, but I can’t leave the ring of flames closing in on me. They’re at my feet now, the heat so intense I can barely catch—
I AWOKE WITH A STARTLE, sweat slipping down the sides of my face and soaking my sheets. I felt it then, the past pushing from behind the door where I kept it—beating against the frail frame. All the lies and the heartache. The shame and the scandal.
I didn’t want any of that to touch Prim.
I sat up and reached for the glass of water. Chugged it and then breathed through the fading images. No matter what I’d protect her. If our worlds were to collide again, and I knew they would, then I’d do everything in my power to keep her safe from the claws of the paparazzi.
And especially from the likes of my father.
***
The next couple of days were uneventful. I kept my eye out for Prim everywhere I went but never ran into her. I didn’t like how my stomach would sink on my way home every night. Though the game of chase was fun, this wasn’t for the typical prize. In the short amount of time I’d known her, she’d somehow anchored herself to my every thought. I wanted to get into her mind. Find every dark crevice. Let her find all of mine.
The night of the event, I made my usual rounds, greeting colleagues and a few of the reporters given access. The art pieces made by various women from the shelter we supported were on display and ready for auction. The DJ was setting up the last of the equipment to the karaoke station that would be opened shortly after the wet bars were. All the proceeds raised for buying time to sing went to the charity.
The night started with the usual speeches, all circling around the importance of taking care of those in our city. After dessert was served—ice cream from the very shop that had put the charity on the map, Blackbird Creamery—everyone was encouraged to drink and dance. I sat near the back of the room, scrolling through various posts with the hashtag I’d created for the event. I tried to gain perspective on how well things were going when the last voice I’d expected to hear slid across my shoulder like a warm touch.
“Serendipity.”
I turned in my chair. “Prim?”
A whoosh of air rushed out of my lungs at the sight of her, as if all the built-up tension had been popped with a pin. She wore a dress the color of sun-kissed wheat that hugged and flowed around the sweet curves of her body, enhancing the bright blue of her summer eyes. Her dark hair was pinned up, a few wayward strands brushing against her long porcelain neck. A neck that dipped into the most exquisitely heart-shaped bustline.
My mouth watered, heart set to a pattering pace.
Her beauty was rare, coveted, like spotting a shooting star on a foggy night.
“Well, it’s not entirely serendipity,” she said with a hitched smile. A flush broke across the valley of her chest in light rosy splotches. “I was given a ticket to the event at work and thought maybe I’d bump into you.”
A warm flutter brushed behind the cage of my ribs. She was magnificent. A parting cloud on a gloomy day.
I couldn’t stop myself. I stood and leaned close, lips a breath away from her ear. “Who’s stalking who now?”
When her gaze caught mine, a quiet smile gently spread across red lips. “Touché.”
My heart tripped over itself like a clumsy adolescent. I was drunk on the nearness of her scent. “So …” I tucked my wolfish hands into my pockets to keep from pulling her closer. “Work, huh? The job worked out for you?”
“Um … sort of. Yeah.” Her teeth toyed with her bottom lip, a daring glint in her eyes. “Is that a karaoke machine?” She peered past my shoulder, the delicate flesh of her neck lifting.
“Yeah. You sing?”
“Occasionally. I was classically trained by the radio.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Her head gave an earnest nod, the smile lingering on her lips mirroring my own. “I’ve been known to do solo performances in the shower. In the car. You know, all the best venues.”
“Well then, let me alert the DJ. I’m dying to hear your radio-trained voice. And,” I said with a finger pointed in the air, “you’ll be aiding the charity. My treat.”
There it was—the first full-bloomed blush of the night, rising like the sun behind each curved cheek. I was addicted to the bright crimson color. To making it ignite beneath her skin.
“How about this?” she said with a wicked grin. “I’ll sing if you sing.”
“I can’t hold a note to save my life. I’d be doing this entire room a favor by staying away from the mic.”
She giggled in buttery spurts, the lovely sound interrupted by the hand that fell on my shoulder, large and thick.
I turned, already knowing who it was.
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing a plus-one,” Harrison said as he opened our space into a circle. The loud din of chatter swam around us.
Already, a line had formed for the karaoke sign-ups. An older woman in a black gown was onstage, slurring her way through a Barbra Streisand song.
Harry focused his attention on Prim, offering a golden grin. “And who might you be?” He reached for her extended hand. Laid a kiss to it, full of old-school charm.
“Primrose Amberly,” she said, her face radiant and open.
“Primrose. What a beautiful name.”
“Thank you,” she said with a small dip of her head.
“I’m Harrison Cunningham.”
Her eyes widened ever so slightly, but then she perked up, fixing a smile to her lips. “Oh, yes. I’ve heard of you. You own Stud.”
“That I do.” He rocked back on his heels, hands clutching the lapels of his suit. “Are you a follower?”
“Of course. An avid one at that.”
“Ha!” he said, nudging my arm. “See, I told you Virago didn’t corner the market for women. Tell me,” he said, his attention placed back on Prim, “what is it you love about Stud? The inside look into the way men think? Or is it that our content is more streamlined and authentic?”
“Oh, jeez. Where do I even begin?” she said, her finger tapping against her lip. A playful sparkle in her eye. “I’d have to say, I come back solely for the pleasure of reading articles written by the one and only Harrison Cunningham. What was it you wrote? A man’s heart is both his greatest weapon and his greatest undoing? That was very … deep. Tell me, is it true?”
“Wherever did you find this peach?” Harrison said to me, chuckling.
I smiled down at her. “She found me.”
“I can smell a journalist in you.” His chuckle was as boisterous as his personality. “Where did you say you worked?”
“I didn’t.” Her smile was sickeningly sweet.
I thought I might have even picked up on a note of dis
dain and sarcasm in her words.
His eyes narrowed on her like the bloodhound he was. “You said she found you?”
“More like bumped into,” Prim quickly added. “At a bagel shop. It was quite the catastrophe. Ended up with a broken Kindle and a sore forehead.”
“Hmm …” Harrison said, eyeing her.
I liked this side of Prim. Feisty. Unpredictable. Most women fell at the feet of Harrison and his charisma, which compared to the best of them—like Robert Redford and Clint Eastwood. But she didn’t. She almost seemed … put off by him.
“Anyway, I came by because the journalist from The Times wants to chat with you. I told him I’d send you his way,” Harrison said. “Just watch what you say.”
My mouth went dry, tongue heavy and tangled. I hardly ever took interviews anymore. Not when my name sat like a torch in their hands, waiting to burn me at the stake. But I couldn’t say no to Harrison. Especially not when it was for a good cause.
“Sure thing.” I turned to Prim who’s smile had dimmed a little. The last thing I wanted to do was leave her side. I only hoped she could pick up on that. “You’ll be around, right?”
“Of course.”
I stilled, feeling my lips curve. “Good.” With a nod in Harrison’s direction, I added, “Don’t scare her away.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I spent the next half hour doing what I did best—charm. I talked about the women I’d met at the shelter, and how they’re bravery inspired me. About Stud’s desire to spread awareness. And, of course I talked Harrison up. The journalist turned out to be different from what I was used to. He kept his questions in line with the event, never once trying to goad me about my past.
When the interview was over, I wandered throughout the room. Stopped by a few tables to pay thanks to those who had donated. I was about to head out onto the pavilion to look for Prim, when I was stopped dead in my tracks by the most melodic voice I’d ever heard trilling through the speakers.
Prim was onstage, hand cupped around a microphone. Eyes squeezed shut as her hips swayed from side to side. Every note she crooned was a spell enchanting me. Locking me in place. Opening my heart. Her voice was the perfect contradiction of sultry and sweet, like woodsy cinnamon.
Glancing around the room, I noticed it wasn’t just me she had mesmerized. Everyone was focused on her. On the thrilling notes that seemed to crawl through my veins. She had downplayed her voice. I imagined she’d downplayed a lot of things about herself. That was something I’d change if I ever got the chance.
Prim needed to know how amazing she was. How unique.
When she was finished, I lost her to the clapping and whistling crowd, and a bout of panic released into my veins. Was she leaving? Had she met someone else? Surely, someone would have at least tried for her attention within all the time that had passed. And what if someone had caught her eye?
An odd, twisty feeling clenched in my gut. What is this fear that spreads like poison in my mind?
It took several minutes of bobbing and weaving through the clusters of crowds, but I finally found her at the shark exhibit. She stood in front of the thick, rounded glass with her back to me, the tranquil blue light casting shapes along her milky skin.
How does she do that—steal my breath with a glimpse?
I moved in, desperate to feel the shape of her inside my arms.
She stood a little straighter, as if aware someone was behind her.
“Go out with me. On a date.”
Her head dipped, but I caught the smile lingering on the corner of her mouth. “That isn’t how this works, remember?”
My lips rose to match hers. “Serendipity.”
“It’s more fun, don’t you think?”
I spun her around. Brushed my fingers under her chin and then lifted her face. The air shifted then, growing restless and warm. Electric currents pulled us closer and closer, and any attempt to resist her was long gone.
My gaze fell to her lips. “No. I think kissing you will be the most fun I’ve ever had.”
For a moment, a fraction of a second, her eyes closed, and I knew she wanted it as badly as I did. Wanted to taste. Wanted to sin.
But then she shook her head and moved away, a cloud of doubt filling her eyes. “I, um … I should go. I have to work tomorrow, and I have so much to catch up on.” She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth. “It was really nice seeing you again, Grayson. This was … it was fun.”
The tone in her voice sharpened my senses. She was retreating again. Afraid to take a step forward with me. I didn’t blame her, but I also couldn’t let her go.
“Dance with me?”
“What?”
“One dance, Prim. You’re here. I’m here. I don’t … I don’t want you to go. Not yet.” I grabbed her hand. “Please?”
I didn’t understand the war waging in her eyes. Was it me? My reputation? Was I fooling myself by thinking she was into me? No … I knew it wasn’t that. One thing I was good at was reading the opposite sex. But her …
She closed her eyes long enough to take in a breath and then said, “Okay.”
The word was fragile, like a brittle leaf one breeze away from breaking.
I couldn’t contain the smile that flourished at knowing she’d stay. It stretched across my entire face as I pulled her into the main room. Pride bowed my chest out. Prim was in my arms, dancing with me.
A slow song played through the speakers in between singers. There were only a few couples swaying on the dance floor, but I didn’t care. I wanted everyone to see her with me.
“I know my reputation, Prim,” I said as I rested my hand against the small of her back.
Her hand held mine, the other curved around my shoulder.
“Grayson …” The way her lips formed around every letter of my name gave it a new meaning. A new depth.
“Just hear me out.” I swallowed. “The thing is … I meant it when I said I didn’t date.”
Her gaze on me was razor-sharp, searching my eyes as if she were waiting for me to tell her I was only kidding.
A fitting amount of skepticism.
“But you make me question that,” I quickly added before I lost her attention. The doubt in her eyes slowly fizzled into something deeper, more open. “I like how I feel when I’m around you. And I know it’s crazy. We’ve only seen each other a few times … but what if there’s something more here? Something that would surprise us both? Wouldn’t that be worth exploring?”
I saw the answer struggling to make its way to her mouth. She gazed past me, her eyebrows casting heavy shadows over her eyes. “You barely know me, Grayson. What if … what if you’ve got me all wrong? What if I’m bad for you?”
The absurdity of her words ripped a chuckle from me. “You? Bad for me?”
“There are things you—”
“Prim.” I slowed us to a stop. “You could never be bad for me. If anyone would know that, it’s me.”
Her gaze dropped, and it rattled rocks in my stomach.
Lifting her chin, I waited until her eyes met mine. “You’re exactly the kind of person I need in my life, Primrose Amberly. But if you need time to see that, well then, I can wait because there’s no doubt in my mind I’ll see you again.”
“Grayson, look over here,” someone shouted.
We both turned as a camera snapped off to the side of the dance floor. The moment the photo was taken, Prim grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the crowd with a speed that had me doubling my pace.
“Where are you going?” I asked with a chuckle.
Her lips shaped into a frown. I wondered what she was thinking. How it all stacked up to the sunflowers back in Kansas. Being here, with me.
“I have to go, Grayson. Truly. This was … I shouldn’t …” Her hands went to the sides of her head as she spun away from me, muttering something under her breath.
“Hey.” I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever it is, it’s okay, Prim.”
&nb
sp; She barely looked at me when she faced me. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
I didn’t chase after her as she ran for the entrance—because I knew I’d see her again.
One way or another, I’d find her.
Rule Number Two:
Hold out on that fireworks-worthy kiss. Make him work for it.
A-dork-able
Prim
“ALL RIGHT, GIRL. SPILL IT,” Poppy said as I plopped down on the inflatable chair she kept on her balcony. Her eyes were bright and hungry for gossip, the Saturday afternoon air thick with heat.
“I met He Who Shan’t Be Named.”
“Piece of work, isn’t he?”
“I think he might have suspected me.” I had been such a fool, toying with him.
“What do you mean?”
“I quoted him. And I might have been a little sarcastic.”
“Prim …”
“Okay … maybe a lot sarcastic.” I threw my hands in the air. “I couldn’t help it, Poppy. Everything I’d heard about him rushed forward. I was already a nervous wreck, being with Grayson. Toss in the inscrutable Harrison Cunningham into the mix … I was a stuttering mess. Mentally speaking.”
She waved me off. “Eh. You’re probably overthinking it. And don’t give him that much credit. You’re good.” Her smirk lifted. “Now, on to the good stuff.”
A strand of hair blew upward when I let out a tense breath. I placed my hand over my chest while my heart bounced around inside like a rubber ball. Tongue knotted and inhumanly dry. This always happened when I was asked to share personal stuff. It was a curse I desperately wanted to break.
“I think Grayson wanted to kiss me again.” I paused, every nerve ending in my body tingling with warmth at the memory of how close his lips had been and how easy it would have been to let him take what he wanted. At his words that seemed to etch themselves into my bones.
“You think?” Her lips pressed together into a thin line. “Don’t be bashful, Prim. Out with it.”
Love in the Headlines: A Star-Crossed Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Love in the Headlines Series Book 1) Page 8