Love in the Headlines: A Star-Crossed Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Love in the Headlines Series Book 1)

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Love in the Headlines: A Star-Crossed Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Love in the Headlines Series Book 1) Page 15

by Candace Knoebel


  “You did?” Grayson said, turning just a little so I could catch the tail end of his smirk.

  “This is insane,” Brian said as he headed over to where his friend sat, who’d yet to notice us.

  I faced Grayson with a sickeningly sweet smile. “I hope you had a great trip. It seemed very … lucrative for you.”

  He searched my gaze. “It went well.”

  “I saw.”

  I hadn’t meant to let that slip. Jealousy wasn’t my forte. But liquor had made my tongue loose. My reserve gummy.

  “I called you earlier. I thought we were going to meet up.”

  “Yeah, well … something came up,” I said, extending a hand to showcase the dance floor.

  “It’s Poppy, isn’t it?” His gaze drifted past my shoulders, no doubt landing on her.

  My arms crossed. “No.”

  He glanced back at me. Brushed his hand across my shoulder. “You look so …”

  “Different?”

  “I was going to say stunning. But even that word isn’t enough.”

  I caught sight of Finley behind the bar, watching us.

  “Are you okay, Prim? You seem … off.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “And this guy?”

  “Is my dance partner.”

  I met his gaze and instantly wished I hadn’t.

  “This isn’t you, Prim. What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”

  Brian returned a second later, his phone in hand. “Dude, can I get a pic with you real quick?” He glanced over at me and stared until I realized he wanted me to move out of the way.

  “Prim,” Grayson said, reaching for me.

  “It’s fine, Grayson. I’ll call you later.” I paused, the burn rising up my throat. “But don’t wait up.”

  Something clicked in his eyes. With a scowl, he bumped past Brian before Brian could snap a picture and disappeared down a dark hallway.

  Finley followed suit.

  “How do you know him?” Brian asked the moment I was free from Grayson’s pull.

  “I don’t,” I said with a frown. “I thought I did … but I was wrong.”

  “Want to take another shot?”

  “Please.”

  From that moment on, the night slipped through my fingers like sand. I danced until my thighs hurt. Until sweat coated my skin. I wanted to dance him out of my system. Dance the hurt I’d felt when seeing that article. The ridiculous notion that, for even a moment, he might have truly been into me. And I thought I was succeeding because I didn’t mind when Brian grabbed my waist and pulled me closer anymore. I let him dip me. Spin me. But when my eyes closed, it wasn’t Brian I was imagining dancing with.

  It was someone whose skin shone like gold and lips tasted like sin.

  When it was time to go, reality splashed over me like a bucket of ice.

  “Poppy!” I said when I found her clutching our purses between her arm.

  “Hey. Last call. Time to go.” She looked worn down.

  “I did what you said.”

  “I know.”

  “And he left. He left without explaining who she was to him.”

  “Maybe you wounded his pride. He’ll recover and contact you. Just wait and see.”

  I didn’t like the disappointment that spread like tar in the pit of my belly. A horrible mix that didn’t bode well with the liquor.

  “Hey you.” Brian grabbed my arm as we made our way toward the exit. “I liked tonight.”

  “It was fun,” I said, trying to pull away.

  His grip was firm.

  I searched for Poppy, but she was already ahead of me, being ushered forward by a small crowd.

  “I want you to come home with me,” Brian continued, pulling me toward him. “I know you want it. I felt it out there.”

  “You’re mistaken. Please let go.” I wiggled my arm free and started forward, but then his hand landed on my shoulder and spun me around.

  “Don’t tell me you’re a cocktease.”

  The glare in his eyes cut through me like a dull knife. Jagged and ripping.

  He pulled me against his hips. My eyes widened when I realized he was going to try to kiss me. When his lips puckered, his head moved toward me.

  But the kiss never came.

  One second, he had been leering down at me. The next, he was on the ground.

  A Fucking Delight

  Grayson

  RED, PULSING AND HOT.

  I blinked.

  A blurry mess of fists and shoving. Bone meeting bone.

  I blinked.

  Hands pulling me backward.

  I blinked.

  I was numb. Set on auto drive. Determined to make sure this guy would never—

  “Grayson, stop!”

  It wasn’t until I heard Prim’s voice that the world righted itself again. Fin’s arms were wrapped around my waist, my hands pinned to my sides.

  “Dude, you need to go now.”

  I looked up. Bright lights pierced my vision, dots dancing and weaving in front of me. It took me a solid second to realize I was being filmed by onlookers. Some focused on Brian. A few others pointed directly at me and the splotches of blood covering my fists.

  “You’re live, dude,” some guy said, aiming the camera at me. “I got Grayson Pierce live on my feed.”

  “Me too!” another stranger said.

  “Fin,” Sammy yelled from behind the bar, “some reporter’s on the phone for you.”

  Great.

  Brian was on the ground, his friend next to him, trying to help him.

  “We have to go, man,” the friend said. “Someone called the cops. You know you can’t be here when they show up.”

  Brian moaned on his way to his feet, holding the side of his cheek that had a gash across it. His friend shot me a dirty look and then pulled Brian’s arm over his shoulder, helping him toward the exit.

  “Grayson, man, snap out of it,” Fin said. “If you leave now, I can fix this. I’ll set it straight.”

  He was right. I didn’t want to be here when the cops showed up. And especially not the press.

  Adrenaline drove me forward. “Find Poppy. I’ve got Prim.”

  Fin took off with a swift nod. Prim stood back, her hand covering her mouth as she watched Brian make his way to the exit. I didn’t want to register the fear in her gaze, swirling with anger when I approached her. I wouldn’t. Not yet.

  “Let’s go.”

  “No.”

  “Prim, I’m serious. We have to go before the cops show up.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem,” she said, backing away when I reached for her. “Who was that, Grayson? Because that sure as hell wasn’t the Grayson I know. You … you hit him.”

  My teeth clenched together. “He was drunk and about to sexually assault you, Prim. There was no way around—”

  She took another step away from me.

  My stomach dropped. “You think … you think I’m the bad guy here?”

  She was still walking backward, slowly making her way toward the door. “No. I think you’re egotistical and just like every other caveman who thinks with his fists. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  She started for the door, but I knew what was waiting out there for her. A circus of cameras and reporters that wouldn’t give one shit about prodding her about the incident. And if they put it together just who she was, the woman from the aquarium photo …

  No. I wouldn’t let them do that to her.

  “Fine. Then, we’ll do this the hard way.” I scooped her up into my arms.

  “Put me down!” she shouted as I fast-tracked it toward the back door.

  “Not until we’re outside and I know you’re safe.”

  She wiggled furiously, but her small frame was no match for me. It was like carrying a sack full of feathers.

  After a few seconds, she finally relented. “You didn’t have to hit him. And where are you taking me?”

  “To my car and then to my place.” />
  I felt her stiffen.

  “Your place? So much better than being groped.”

  I stopped. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Who was the woman you were spotted with?”

  The woman?

  She must have understood my silence for confusion because she added, “Tight shirt. Dark hair. Your arm wrapped around her. You two made the headline. Congrats.”

  Laughter shot deep from my chest the moment it all clicked. “I take it, there was another article. What was it this time? ‘Serial Dater Back at It Again’?” Ignoring her grumbling, I continued, “It’s a friend of mine. Monica. She works over at Orb. She set up the interview I did with a friend of hers. She helps me out from time to time.”

  She grunted. “I’m sure she ‘helped you out.’ ” Her fingers wiggled in air quotes.

  It clicked then. The tone of her voice. “You’re totally jealous.”

  Another heavy grunt. “As if.”

  “That’s what this was all about, wasn’t it?” I chuckled. “Let me guess … you took pointers from Poppy?”

  She muttered a pathetic, “No.”

  “You could have just talked to me. The gossip blogs and tabloids don’t always get it right. It would have been much easier than all this tonight.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I already felt pounds lighter, knowing it had all been a show. A ploy out of the oldest of playbooks.

  The crazy thing was … it had worked.

  “This is kidnapping, you know.”

  “And here I thought, distressed damsels liked it when they were rescued.”

  She stopped fidgeting. Propped her elbows on my back. “Well, I’m not a damsel, and I didn’t need to be rescued.”

  “Right. Because you had it all under control.” I set her down. “There. Better?”

  She rubbed her stomach, her hair matted to her forehead as her eyes pinned me with a tragic attempt at irritation. When she paused for a moment, a flicker of panic stole her features. “Shit!”

  “What?”

  “I lost a contact!” She grabbed my arm. “I’m blind without my glasses, and Poppy has my purse. Can you call her?”

  “Sure. Where’s your phone?”

  She turned to me, a hand covering her eye. “In my purse.”

  Shit. “I’ll text Fin.”

  With her hand on my arm, we headed to my car and waited. It didn’t take long for Poppy to appear around the side of the building.

  “Where did you go? You had me scared to death!”

  “Poppy? Scared?” Prim said with a weak laugh. She was clutching her stomach.

  I knew that look. Regrets were climbing up the base of her throat.

  “Here.” Poppy gave me a half-assed glance as she handed me Prim’s purse. “Grayson.”

  “Poppy.”

  Prim took her purse and pulled out the container for her contacts, setting it on the hood of my car.

  “Where did you come from? I thought your wounded ego took you home.” Poppy’s arms were folded, her bitchy tone cocked and loaded.

  “And leave her to the likes of that guy? Did you see him, Poppy?”

  “Jealous?”

  I met her tone. “Concerned. Just like you should have been. But I guess when you’re too busy trying to rouse Fin, you seem to overlook potential dangers. And that guy … danger was written all over him.”

  Poppy’s finger came flying up. “Hey now. You listen—”

  “I can hear you,” Prim said, sliding on her glasses.

  There she was. The Prim I’d taken a liking to. Glasses suited her. They were a part of her. Not all that makeup on her face.

  “This was no one’s fault. Poppy was being shoved out by the crowd, and that douche bag would have gotten a swift kick to the nuts had he taken it any further.”

  I thought both Poppy’s and my mouth fell open at the same time when we heard her talk like that.

  “I told you, I’m not a damsel. I took self-defense classes before coming here. There was no way my dad would have let me go without doing so.”

  “Well then,” Poppy said with the swivel of her head, “I guess she’s safe to leave with you.” She glanced over at Prim. “Of course, that’s only if you want to.”

  It took her a second, but Prim finally nodded.

  “Okay then.” Poppy opened her purse and then pulled out a small bottle of mace. “Spray it in his eyes if he tries anything.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said with an eye roll.

  “Call me?”

  Prim nodded. “How are you getting home?”

  “Don’t you worry about me. I’m the apex predator in this concrete jungle.”

  “And so, on this dreary night, Poppysaurus Rex has returned,” I said with a small smirk.

  She flipped me off and then yanked the back door open and slipped inside.

  When Poppy was gone, I opened the passenger door for Prim and then got into the driver’s seat.

  The air was thick with tension. The truth swam around us. Taunting us to expand on it.

  “Do you want to go to my place?” I asked, fearing she’d say no.

  When her eyes met mine, I knew the answer.

  Putting the car in drive, I took off toward my apartment. Warm light blinked in and out of the dark cabin screaming with silence. I kept both hands on the wheel, although I wanted nothing more than to reach for her. To apologize. To assure her that I was still the Grayson she knew.

  Prim’s head rolled along the headrest to look at me.

  She shook my entire world when she said, “I believe you.”

  ***

  “The place suits you,” Prim said as she walked through the loft, fingers skimming over walls, over paintings, over tables and chairs and counters, leaving a trail of her for me to follow.

  It was an open-floor plan. The bathroom only concealed by plaster walls suspended from the ceiling. My bed rested on the floor in the corner, a glaring red sign blinking above that read, Addiction Lives Here. It had been given to me by an old flame before she discovered I wasn’t the commitment type. I kind of liked it, so I kept it up.

  Prim pointed to it and then shook her head with a perceptive smirk. I didn’t know why, but it felt personal, having her in my loft. Intimate in a way I’d yet to feel before. Though plenty of women had passed through the space, none had ever really taken it all in the way she was doing. Picking up random books. Looking at the pictures. Her touch could be found everywhere, fingerprints and heat redecorating the walls. I wanted to frame her in that moment. Capture the wonder that seemed to pour from her pores.

  “You read, and you collect art?” she asked, her head tilted a little to the side in thought.

  “Not all of it. Some of them were gifts.” I strolled toward the kitchen along the far wall. Pulled out two water bottles from the fridge and then carried one to her.

  She was admiring a painting I’d bought off a local artist starting out. It was dark, like many other paintings I kept. Dollar bills rained from the top, slowly morphing into fire that covered the city of New York that turned a putrid green within the flames.

  “Not a big fan of money?” she asked when I handed her the water, one slender arm wrapped around her midsection.

  “It’s a long story.” My hand slipped into my pocket, the answer stuck somewhere in the pit of tar deep down in my stomach.

  She twisted off the cap to the water and took a sip while idly walking away, the pads of her feet falling soft against the wood floor. Peered behind the walls to the bathroom. A claw-foot tub, a toilet, and a sink with a large, portrait-length mirror. She finally stopped in the living room where a big-screen TV hung from the wall.

  “Want to watch a movie?” I asked as she fiddled with the strap of her dress.

  “Sure. But … do you think I could maybe borrow some clothes and grab a shower first?” Her attention turned to the dress I’d imagined peeling slowly off her body. Inch by inch, soaking in the
sight of her milky-white skin. Skin that would surely shudder beneath my touch.

  “Oh, sorry. Of course. Come with me.”

  She followed me over to my dresser that had once been my mother’s. It was an heirloom. One of the only pieces of her I had left.

  “I have this,” I said, holding out a pair of gray sweatpants. “They might fit. They have the string to tighten them.”

  “I can make it work.” She pulled on the string. Smiled, lips full and distracting.

  Damn, her smile. It was like the perfect sunset, so beautiful that one prayed it would never leave. Never slip away.

  I scoured through a drawer full of shirts and found one that felt soft enough for her skin. “Here,” I said, handing it to her.

  She took it and then disappeared behind the bathroom wall. I headed to the kitchen, gripping the counter, welcoming the cool against my palms as I tried to find my sanity. I wanted her so fucking bad, it hurt. Ached. Pushing my crowded thoughts to the brink of insanity. But making a move on her felt like foreign territory.

  I found that I straddled the line between desire and the need to do right by her. The need to keep her whole while also claiming every inch of her soul. Branding myself into her skin. Into her essence.

  She believed in me. Enough so to be disappointed. No one … no one had ever given me their trust the way she had. With such a gentle openness. Such a thoughtless grace.

  I couldn’t mess it up with her.

  I wouldn’t.

  A little while later, I heard her say, “That was exactly what I needed.”

  When I glanced up, I got a boner. The makeup had been cleaned from her face, freshly scrubbed, pink from the heat. Her hair was wild and loose and dripping from the shower. The sight of her in my clothes … my shirt, bulky on her tiny frame. Those pants she nearly drowned in.

  Fuck. I wanted her.

  Badly.

  “Good.” I cleared my throat. Pointed to the couch. “You want to pick a movie?”

  She needed to go first because it was going to take me a minute to get control of my erection. Thankfully, she wandered ahead and plopped onto the couch, pulling a pillow against her lap. A second later, I made my way over and took a seat beside her. She scooted closer, fitting by my side. Easily. Just like the night at her place.

 

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