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

by Candace Knoebel

  He lifted me up. Sat me on the edge of the counter. Our foreheads came together, centered and warm. “I should have said no. He doesn’t deserve a single sentence from you.”

  I moved a wayward strand of hair from his face. “Because he’s your father. No matter his discretions, that will never change, Grayson.”

  “Unfortunately. The last thing she said to me was to forgive him. That was her dying wish. And up until you, I’d never thought I could honor it. Up until you, I’d never thought I’d find peace.”

  My hands found his cheeks. I placed a small kiss to his nose. To his chin. To his lips. There was so much raw emotion warring in his maple gaze. Deep and harrowing. If I could … if I could take an ounce of his pain away …

  “There’s this memory I have of him I can’t ever shake,” he said, fingers lacing through mine. “Once, when I was in sixth grade, I was going through a basketball phase. Thought I’d be the next Michael Jordan. It was finals, and Mom urged me to ask him to come. He’d yet to appear at any of my games, not that it mattered. I never expected him there. But she all but begged me to ask him. Assured me he’d come if only I showed I wanted him there. So, I asked. And I’m sure you can guess how the story ends.”

  “He didn’t show?”

  “Nope. And the kicker was, I wasn’t the one disappointed. It didn’t even faze me. Mom took it the hardest. That night, I found her crying in the kitchen. She tried to play it off, but I knew. I was so young, yet I still knew. That was when she first found out about the affair. Or at least, I believe she did. I didn’t know then that she had already been undergoing treatment.” His eyes darkened. “Moments like that aren’t just erased or forgiven because an old man finds himself in one too many pickles. If he means it—and I mean, truly means it—then he’s going to have to be the one to put in the work.”

  “Maybe that’s what he’s trying to do. It can’t be easy for a man like him to unravel the mess inside his soul. But maybe … maybe, this time, he’ll show up.”

  A quiet second ticked by.

  “I wish she could have met you, Prim. She would have loved you.”

  “I have a feeling, I would have loved her too.”

  He rested his forehead against my shoulder. Held me close. “You can change your mind, you know. You don’t have to do this.”

  “The thing is … I want to.”

  His hands gripped the counter next to my thighs. “Why?”

  “Because, sometimes, even the devil needs a shot at forgiveness.”

  His gaze caught mine.

  “He’ll have to rebrand his image,” I continued. “Publicly apologize. Put more focus into women’s foundations and such. He’ll realize that, though I agreed, it doesn’t mean he’ll be getting off easy. He needs to change, and it’s my hope to inspire that in him. For you,” I said, running my fingers over his cheek, “and for your mom.”

  A sly smirk spread across his lips. “Sleeping with the enemy has its perks, I suppose.”

  “Oh, so we’re enemies now?” I playfully brushed him aside and hopped off the counter. Moved to the tub, turning the water on. “Then, as established enemies, there must be a line between us. One neither can cross.” Slowly, teasingly, I dragged a toe across the tiles between us.

  He growled. Stepped right up to the edge of the line.

  “Uh-uh-uh.” I wagged a finger at him. “Stay there, on your side.”

  Desire marked his face. I started with the hem of my shirt. Slow tugs. Shallow breaths. A sweet torture he’d endure. Fabric fell to the floor. Skin shivering. His growl was guttural and primitive, and I felt it at my very center.

  I slid the satin strap of my bra over my shoulder. Then the other. Unclasped the back with one hand and watched it fall in a pink hue. I was bare and exposed. Open and ready. Waiting for him.

  Always waiting for him.

  “Prim,” he said through his teeth, his fists clenched by his sides.

  He took a step forward.

  “Stay.” I pushed my panties down, fingers skimming over hot flesh. Picked them up and handed them to him. “A token of peace,” I said with a wry smile.

  My body slipped into the warm water, the thrill of being watched driving every movement. Burning up my insides. I knew he wanted to take his time with me, but I was far past needing time. I’d given time twenty-three years of my life. And the truth was, I wanted him to see the only means of pleasure I had ever allowed myself before him. To let him in a little more.

  My hand slid between my legs as he stood there, watching. My head tilted back as the waves of pleasure rose in the pit of my stomach.

  “Fuck, Prim.” Tension was coiled in his words.

  My eyes opened. He was touching himself, too, and the sight of his body sent a spiking current down my middle. He was glorious. Ripples of sinewy muscle. The braiding of his tendons moving while he worked his desire. As his hand increased in pace, mine followed, my legs beginning to tremble, sending ripples through the water.

  Within seconds, I was screaming out his name, eyes clenched shut as wave after magnificent wave crashed over me. I heard a shuffle and then felt the water rise around me as he got in with me. His hand moved between my thighs, fingers moving slowly inside me, in and out, until he lifted his fingers and then sucked on them.

  “You taste like heaven,” he said, pulling me to stand.

  I welcomed him as my hand encompassed his throbbing need. Up and down, tighter and tighter. I knew he was releasing everything he’d been holding in. And I wanted him to give it all to me. To use me as his purge. Tears swam in his eyes when his lips crushed mine. Hard, biting kisses that only made me want him more.

  Never had I ever felt passion as I did in that moment. And the torment that rested so close beside it. Hand in hand, like twins.

  When he came, he clasped on to me. His face was buried in my shoulder as an outpouring of emotion released in his cry.

  “It’s okay.” My fingers wove through his hair, catching his pain on my fingertips. “I promise it’ll be okay.”

  ***

  I wasn’t ready to leave him come Monday morning. He agreed to ride with me to work, so we found a spot near the back and each plugged in an earbud, sharing the music I’d been wanting to play for him. I was even able to point out the lady sitting outside her storage unit like clockwork.

  When I saw her, I knew everything would go the way I intended it to.

  And when it came time to get off, I took a deep breath, his hand in mine, and we headed toward Virago.

  The foot traffic was light, so we made it to the office in no time. Stood outside my building. His hands wrapped around my waist. Mine pressed to his chest. Doubt crept up the back of my throat, pushing hollow laughter out.

  His hands cupped my face, eyes twinkling with admiration, reading me like he so easily did. “Don’t worry. If anyone can sweet-talk the dragon, it’s you.”

  “I’m just not sure she’ll want this story. I mean … Quinn doesn’t step up to bat for men.”

  “No. But she does for women. And you, my love, will be the perfect reason for her to.”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “And your dad … we’re still on for tonight, right? If this works, then she’ll want the story as soon as possible.”

  He ran his hands down my arms, grinning. “I spoke with him this morning. Everything is set for us to meet later at his place. He needs your story, Prim, otherwise the tabloids will eat him alive.”

  “Okay.” Good, I thought. One hurdle down, one more to go.

  I kissed him good-bye. I was on such a high, I thought nothing could tamper with it. When I set my things down on my desk, Poppy stood in Brinley’s cubicle, laughing loud enough that it bounced off the walls.

  “Hey,” I said as I moved in. “How was your weekend?”

  “Brinley here had a taste of the D. And by taste, I mean …” Poppy lifted her hands in the air, bringing them in and out toward her mouth, mimicking the sacred act.

  “Poppy!” Br
inley was instantly red. Bright as an apple. She shuffled papers, a mindless movement, as I waited for more.

  “So … is he the one?” I asked.

  “It was only the second date.”

  “And you boinked him?” Poppy shouted. “Not that I’m saying that’s wrong because women can fuck whomever they please, but you? Brinley shacking up on the second date? Whatever would your mother think?”

  “Ha-ha, very funny.” Brinley pushed Poppy out of her cubicle. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to you.”

  “Don’t be boring,” Poppy said with a pout. She spun on me. “How about you, Little Miss No Call? I thought we were doing laundry yesterday.” She paused, and then her eyes bulged. “Tell me you didn’t shack up with Lover Boy.” Another searching pause. “Wait a minute. Did you …”

  “Maybe.” I smirked when her already-frowning lips deepened the curves.

  She wasn’t going to pry anything from me. Some things needed to be private.

  “You two are no fun.” She plopped in her chair with her arms folded across her chest.

  After a few moments of silence, I faced her. I needed her if I was going to move forward. “Poppy … I found a solution.”

  Her face went blank.

  “I’ve got something better to write about. Something much, much bigger.”

  Her fingers wiggled together with delight. “Ooh. Do tell.”

  “Come with me.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward Quinn’s office, my heart drumming wildly against my chest. This could go one of many ways, and I wasn’t a fool to believe my way would actually be the outcome. But I had to try. For him.

  Quinn was on the phone when we appeared in her doorway.

  “Oh, yes. I heard. And we’re going to nail that bastard. How many wives has he had now?” she said into the receiver as she ran a nail file under her nails.

  My stomach did a hard, swooping plummet. I couldn’t let this story slip. It was my only way out.

  Laughter shot past her lips as a cold sweat pushed behind my skin. “One day, men will learn how to keep their dicks in their pants. Unfortunately for his reputation, today’s not the day.” She glanced up at us and then held up a finger. “Listen, I’ll call you later with an update on the article.” After hanging up, she peered up at us. “Yes?”

  “Don’t look at me,” Poppy said, her arms crossing over her chest, eyes on me.

  Quinn’s gaze moved to mine. “Do you have the article ready for publishing?” She glanced at the calendar suspended on her wall. “How many days are left?”

  “Seven.” I stepped into the office, barely able to hear my thoughts over my heartbeat. “But I don’t want to go forward with that story.”

  Slowly, almost lethally, her arms folded across the desk. “Come again?”

  I tried to swallow past the fear hoarding in my throat, but it was no use. “I have something better. Exclusive access to Mr. Pierce’s story.”

  Her eyes widened, mouth parting.

  “I was with Grayson when his father—”

  “Alan,” she said.

  “Yes. Alan. He came to Grayson’s apartment yesterday morning.”

  Her mouth parted even wider. Wide enough to conjure heat behind my cheeks. It was there, unspoken in the air.

  I had dipped my toes into the land of sex.

  “He asked for Grayson’s help.”

  She snorted. “Of course he did. The pig. And I’m sure he’ll go running to Harrison with all the details.”

  “Actually, Grayson refused. I was the one who offered to do the story.”

  “And that story is …”

  “The true story. One in which he makes up for his misgivings. Do you know how big it would be to cover his apology?”

  “Absolutely not.” Quinn slammed her hand down on the desk. “That goes against everything we stand for.”

  I took two steps forward, a fire lit within. “So, you’d rather give the story to Harrison then? Because that’s where he’ll take it if we don’t accept.”

  “Ooh,” I heard Poppy squeak behind me.

  The air froze. My heart bucked against my lungs, blood filling with lead.

  She stared me down, chewing on my words. I held her gaze, refusing to give in. If she wanted a fight, then I’d give her one.

  “Fine.”

  My breath whooshed out of me. “Thank you so—”

  “But I want what you’ve written so far about the player piece. And all your notes. And I want the exclusive turned in on my desk by the end of the week. This story isn’t waiting for anyone.”

  “I can do you one better. I’m set to meet up with Alan later tonight. I’ll have the story ready for Brinley no later than tomorrow.”

  Shock, or something like it, widened her eyes. She reached for a pen, twirling it in her hands, studying me for a moment. “I underestimated you. You’ve got gall, Cherry.”

  “I’m not a cherry anymore.”

  A shadow of a smirk peaked at the corner of her mouth. “Are you in love with him?”

  I hadn’t really thought about that part of it. I knew what I felt for Grayson was something I’d never experienced before. Something more real than any book I’d ever read.

  Her smirk deepened. “Here.” She slapped papers on the desk. “The job is yours. I’d say you’ve earned it. Look these over and then sign them. Bring them when you have my story.”

  I stilled.

  “Now, get out of my office.”

  The moment Quinn’s door closed behind us, I turned. “I got the job.”

  Poppy’s hands encased mine. “You got the job!” she said as we jumped in celebratory fashion. “You must have some kind of magic in that voice of yours,” Poppy said, “because there’s no way in hell Quinn would have ever backed down.”

  “It’s a good story. And she’d die before letting Harrison cover it.”

  Poppy grabbed my arm, halting me. “You did all this for him, didn’t you? You are in love with him.”

  I couldn’t meet her gaze. “I haven’t sorted through my feelings yet. All I know is, this is the first time I’ve been able to breathe since getting that assignment. There’s no way I could ever write a scoop on him. Use him like that. He’s a good person, Poppy.”

  Her lips curved. “Well … you deserve this. No one ever gets a happy ending around here.”

  I giggled, waving a hand at her.

  “I’m serious,” she said. “Look at me. Quinn. Brinley. It’s like this blog is cursed when it comes to love. We can write about it but never truly have it. If this actually works out, then I really am happy for you.”

  With that, she walked away, back to her cubicle, leaving a mound of thoughts piling up in my head.

  Daddy Issues

  Prim

  “WHERE’S LOVER BOY?” POPPY ASKED as she sidled up beside me at the bar.

  The soft notes of a piano trilled throughout the room, slightly shadowed by the din of ceremonious chatter. This was my first big event in New York. The night Quinn had stressed over and over not to, in her words, fuck up. All the big blogs were in attendance.

  Including Stud.

  “He’s mingling somewhere around here.” Just the mention of him roused a brilliant chiming song from my heart where he had found a place, quite possibly forever. Where his kisses and his words had branded a home.

  Falling into the relationship with Grayson felt a lot like diving into a pool on a warm summer day. Refreshing. Exciting. Invigorating. Everything clicked between us. An easiness I’d never felt with another human being before. I could talk to him about anything.

  Ever since I wrote the piece about his father, things had been different between us. Not in a bad way. No. It was quite the opposite. If he wasn’t staying at my place, then I was at his. We met for lunch. We shared pizza or tacos over movie nights.

  And we had grown closer physically too.

  Every waking minute we could spend together, we did. It was like I’d been starved my whole life, only to
just realize what food was. And it wasn’t just for his attention. My body craved him. Yearned to be underneath him, discovering and taking all he had to offer. A topic I found myself talking more and more about with Poppy and my sister Hazel.

  Both encouraged me to continue exploring.

  When I’d do laundry with Poppy, I’d find some of his clothes mixed in with mine. The notes he’d scribble down while on calls in various places inside my apartment. It was like little pieces of our lives were slowly coming together, like a puzzle.

  I found myself thinking about him constantly. Started doodling all over scraps of paper, seeing how our names fit together. Who would we be labeled as? Our names didn’t make for a fun mixing. Grayrose? No. Primson? A hard no.

  And lately, I’d catch him looking at me every once in a while with such intensity, it nearly robbed the breath from me.

  “Hmm. Trouble in paradise?” Poppy picked at the small umbrella doused in her drink before taking a sip of the fruity concoction.

  “Exactly the opposite. This is his job, Poppy. He can’t very well be up my ass all night and keep up appearances.”

  She scoffed. “Jesus, you don’t have to get so pissy about it.”

  “I’m sorry.” I let out a pent-up breath. “I’m just … nervous.”

  “About the article?”

  My head dipped with concession. It had gone viral yesterday. And by viral, I mean, it had already been viewed in the millions and shared in the high upper thousands. All my social media sites had blown up with followers. And to make matters even crazier than they already were, I was linked to dating Grayson from the photos taken when we were out and about. A feat my other sisters had been hounding me on when they found out through the media rather than me.

  It seemed nothing was secret when one went viral.