All that mattered was this, right here, in this moment when his arms were wrapped around me and the outside world was far from touching us.
When he rolled, I traced the letters scribed across the base of his neck. “Life is short. Break the rules.”
A gravelly, throaty noise sounded from his lips. “Adolescent stupidity,” he said as my lips pressed against the letters. “I was going through this rebel phase against my dad. Back when I made headlines for all the wrong reasons.”
“My very own bad boy.”
He rolled toward me, wearing a smile I felt all the way to my core. “Redeemed by his very own angel.” Reaching, he traced his hand across my cheek, letting it linger as love took on shapes in his eyes. “My father asked me to come with him to our old family vacation home next weekend to celebrate the start of the season.”
I nuzzled my nose against his. “He did? Are you going to go with him?”
“I’ve been thinking about it. Thinking about letting the past go and trying to move forward. It won’t be easy, but I’m tired of being angry. Tired of the past eating away at my future … with him anyway.”
There was a dash of hope in his eyes when he talked about reconciling with his father.
“I’ll miss you, but I think you should go.”
“I want you to come with me.” His sated smirk twisted at the corners. “You know, because you’re so good at keeping him on his toes.”
“Who knew little ole me could stand up against the big bad wolf?” I quirked my brow, trying hard not to grin like an idiot.
A slow, discerning smile sloped across his lips. He licked them and then ran a finger under my chin. “I’ve thought a lot about what you said. Maybe he really is trying this time. And maybe I can have a relationship with him.”
My lips smoothed over his. “I think that’s wonderful, Grayson.”
“And maybe,” he added, the love I felt for him centered in my chest, “maybe soon, you can take me to meet your parents.”
I let out a bright, bubbly giggle.
“What? You think I can’t handle them?”
“It’s not them.” My laughter squeezed through my fingers covering my mouth. “It’s my sisters. They’ll have you pinned like a bug under a microscope.”
“Well, that’s why I have you. My little buffer.” He paused. “So, will you come?”
I rolled on top of him. Felt his need already rising against my stomach again. “That depends on you, doesn’t it?”
His gaze shifted, darkening, the silver streaks brightening like a welcomed storm on a dry, summer afternoon. I was a twisted heap of nerves and skin waiting for him to put me back together.
Desire was a six-letter word I hadn’t understood before him. Before his lips and his skin and the roughness of his touch.
He slid a condom on and then, with one hard thrust, he was inside me, pulsing hard with pleasure.
“Grayson,” I called out, fingers digging into his chest.
With a hand tucked underneath me, he plunged deeper, pressing up into my spine so hard that I could split with desire. I felt every inch of him fill me as I begged for more. As his movements grew rapid and demanding.
I held on to him. On to us as he thrust all his love into me. Knowing I’d never get enough.
***
Come Monday, a permanent smile had been sewn to my lips as the subway carried me to work. Not even the bodies crammed around me could sway my mood.
I was in love.
So was he.
There weren’t enough words to describe how I felt. The happiness seemed overabundant. I leaned my head against the pole as we skittered along on the track, in a daydream. One filled with full lips curved with a smile and whispered words against my skin. When I realized we were close to the woman at the storage facility, I perked up, only to feel my smile slipping.
She wasn’t there. The facility was locked up with yellow Caution tape wrapped around it.
My gaze dropped. What had happened to her? Had they discovered she was secretly living there? Had she died? Had she moved on?
My heart shrank as a certain dread bubbled inside my blood. A foreboding that sat like hot acid in my gut.
I tried to push away the negative thoughts taking shots at my happiness. It wasn’t an omen. It wasn’t a sign. So then, why did I feel like the rug was about to be ripped out from under me?
The subway slid to a stop. A handful of bodies made their way into the station, leaving a seat free. I took it, pulling my phone out. There was a text from Grayson on the screen.
Miss you already.
My lips smiled in response as I clutched the phone to me. It almost didn’t feel real. This airy warmth that circulated around my chest. These thoughts floating in pink clouds of happiness.
When my stop came, I tucked my phone into my purse and beelined for the office. I knew I’d be getting a new assignment from Quinn, and I already had a few ideas I wanted to pitch to her for the upcoming Fourth of July holiday blog special.
When I arrived at work, Quinn was sitting at my desk, wearing a dangerous smile. Lax in my seat with one high-heeled leg crossed over the other.
It isn’t a sign. It isn’t a sign, I chanted, although it didn’t aid the tension growing in my chest any.
“Good morning, Prim.” She stood, so I could sit. Resembling a shiny silver bullet in her gray pencil skirt and metallic blouse, aimed straight at me. “Did you have a good weekend?”
I set my purse down. “Yes,” I said, my voice leery.
Her grin was lethal. “That’s good.” She paused and then pointed to the bagel on my desk. “I took the liberty of having a bagel brought up for you from the shop downstairs. You’re a plain-Jane kind of bagel person, correct?”
“I, uh … yes.”
“Jesus, Quinn. You’re scaring her with the good-witch vibe of yours,” Poppy said, her back to us as her fingers moved across the keyboard.
“Scared? Of me?” A bawdy burst of laughter shot past her lips, unfitting in the small, enclosed space. “Don’t be silly. I wanted to have a chat with my number-one blogger.”
Poppy made a chortling noise.
“Jealousy got your tongue?” she fired at Poppy. “You could easily be number one if you put your focus in your writing rather than running around, breaking men’s hearts.”
“And bank accounts,” Poppy added with a smirk.
Quinn rolled her eyes. “I wanted to talk to you about an upcoming article,” she said to me.
“Alan approved me covering his next charity event. I was thinking maybe for the upcoming Fourth—”
“Not about that one,” she spoke over me. Leaning forward, she clicked my mouse. “About this one.”
My stomach did a cold swoop at the letters covering my screen.
How to Turn a Player into a Stayer
By Quinn Riley
An inside look into how Primrose Amberly came to steal the heart of New York’s notorious serial dater Grayson Pierce.
I read on, my heart settling somewhere in the middle of the earth as bile rose up my throat. The notes I’d taken, my unfinished words … they were all there and then some, formatted in a blog post ready for submittal. Pictures of us were strategically placed throughout the story. Some of him before I’d met him set next to certain rules.
“Beautiful piece, isn’t it? I had Brinley look it over and then asked an intern to put it all together. I’m telling you, Prim …” She leaned her hip against my desk. “You’re going to be famous.”
A fog settled over my eyes as I tore my gaze away from the screen. “This is … half of what’s in this post isn’t even the truth! You took my notes and twisted them!”
“And you think the nosy people who love gossip will care whether it’s true or not? What you had wasn’t enough, Prim. So … I improvised.” She strung her fingers together, flexing them until they cracked. “It’s been a while since these babies have been put into action.”
Anger did a dance with fear
inside my stomach, both vying for stage time. I closed the article, wishing it would vanish. “Quinn, we agreed that if I did the piece on Alan, this would get trashed.”
Her hand came up to her chest. “We did?”
My head gave a slow, wary nod.
She stood, her arms crossed like armor against her chest. “What I remember is asking you to hand over your material, which then made it Virago material. You did read the paperwork when you signed on, didn’t you? Whatever is turned into me is company property. This is how I saw fit to use it.”
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead. “Please, Quinn. You can’t post this. It’ll wreck him. Wreck what we have.”
“Not if what you have is real. What better way to test that theory? This is a numbers game, Prim. If we want to contend with Stud, we have to keep them on their toes. Love comes second to your career. This is a cutthroat business. If you want to rise above, then you have to step on some toes.”
A hot sting of betrayal pressed like knives against the backs of my eyelids as my heart slammed fists against my rib cage. The air swimming through my lungs was stilted and uneven. I could see it in her cold, calculating gaze—there was no getting around this. Love wasn’t a verb she understood—at least, not anymore. It was a roadblock to her. A moat she needed to cross to get to her castle of success. And we were all her stepping-stones.
And because of it, I would lose the first person I’d ever loved.
“Quinn …” The concern coating Poppy’s voice cut through the tumult pounding at the back of my head. “This is low, even for you. This is Prim’s life we’re talking about. I know somewhere inside that stone-cold heart of yours that you care.”
Quinn’s arms crossed as she turned away from us, a war waging in her eyes. She took one look at me and then let out a deep, harried sigh. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, her hands shifting to her hips. “Believe it or not, I do care, which is why this needs to happen, Prim. Despite what you might think, I am looking out for you. You think love will save you? I made that same mistake, and it nearly cost me my career. You have to ask yourself the hard questions. Remove the man from your life and see if you can still survive. If any part of you crumbles with his departure, then you’re doing it all wrong.
“Tell me this, Prim. What happens if it doesn’t work out and you don’t have a career to fall back on? You can’t put all your eggs in one basket. This article will catapult you even further.” With an inhale, the small bit of sincerity that poked through her gaze disappeared. “Now, I suggest you get your apologies in order because it went live thirty minutes ago.”
With that, she walked away, muttering under her breath, leaving a heaping mess in my chest I had no strength to sort through.
“Prim.”
I stood, panic clawing at my ribs. A deep-seated murkiness swarming my stomach. My trembling hands fumbled for my phone, thoughts scrambling in the streets of my mind. I had to get ahold of him. Prayed I did before he read the article.
Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I pulled up his number and pushed Call.
It went straight to voice mail.
My breath hitched in my throat, heart thundering so hard that I pressed my palm to it.
Maybe he’d forgotten to charge his phone. Maybe he’d dropped it in water.
Or maybe he’s avoiding you.
“Prim, wait,” Poppy said, the sincerity in her voice only deepening the dread.
I could barely see in front of me as I headed for the restroom. After I pushed the door open, a sob tore from my throat. I shoved open a stall and locked myself in. My head rested against the cold door as regret stained my cheeks.
I should have known. But how could I have? I had been so naive. So stupid.
And Grayson would pay the price.
“Prim?” I heard Poppy call a second later. “Prim, it’s going to be okay. You just have to talk to him.”
“He’s never going to trust me, Poppy. I … I fucked up.” Another harrowing cry ripped past my lips.
“Prim.” Her voice was outside the stall now. “Let me in.”
I did, and she welcomed me into her arms. Her hand rubbed the back of my head as she let me cry through the fear. Whispered every so often that it would be okay.
“I love him, Poppy. I don’t … I can’t lose him. Not like this.”
When she pulled back, her eyes were stretched with shock. “Love?”
A weak nod tilted my head.
“Shit. And here, you shocked me with dropping the F-bomb. Using the F-bomb and love in the same conversation? Damn, this is bad.”
“Exactly.” I sniveled.
She reached for the paper towels, and then she grabbed one and started dabbing beneath my eyes, thoughts stirring behind her violet gaze. “If he’s in love with you, then he’ll understand. Anyone who knows you knows your heart’s made of gold. That’s not going to change because Quinn’s going through some sort of menopausal rage directed toward Harrison.” Her hands cupped the sides of my face as she searched my gaze. “Grayson knows her. He loves you. You have to trust that, okay?”
All I could do was hope she was right as I nodded with her.
“I have to go to him.”
She moved to the side.
“Cover for me,” I said before hurrying to my cubicle to gather my things.
Heading toward a fate that didn’t look so good.
Black Hole
Grayson
I SAT AT THE KITCHEN bar, facing the door, a half-finished glass of vodka clutched tightly in my hand. A black hole had opened up inside me, sucking in everything I’d thought I knew. A deafening sound pulsed in my ears.
There was no way she would have helped Quinn. Not Prim.
Yet there were the secrets I’d shared with her about my father and the fire.
I’d turned my phone off shortly after learning the article was out there for the world to see. I didn’t want to take any calls. Didn’t want to hear Harrison’s I told you so. No, I wanted to gather my thoughts. Wait for her to come because I knew she would, and I would hear her out.
I would … and I prayed she had some sort of answer that would remedy the darkness swirling inside me. I’d told her I’d always listen, and I would. But this …
When the buzzer sounded at my door, I stood and set the glass on the counter. All my emotions locked tight.
She was at the front door, her eyes puffy. A swatch of red swarming the base of her throat as she chewed on her fingernails. Just the sight of her wore down the shield I’d crafted. Brought forth the need to pull her into my arms and kiss away the hurt leaking from her eyes.
Holding the button down, I rested my forehead against the screen.
“Grayson, I can explain.” Her words were full of desperation and dread as she peered up to the camera. “Please … just please let me explain.”
After buzzing her in, I left the door open. Returned to my seat at the bar, downing the rest of the glass, steadying the rage that beat against my chest.
She appeared in the doorway, an angel who had lost her halo. Her lips quivered with secrets I was afraid to hear.
“Why?” It was all I could manage. A lightless, enervated word.
Her hands fumbled in front of her. “It was never supposed to be written. You have to believe me. I love you.”
My eyebrows dropped into a sharp angle. “The details, Prim. Those details could have only come from you.” I stood. Turned. Pressed my palms flat against the countertop. A dangerous concoction of anger and hurt brewed inside my cracked heart. “How long, Prim? How long have you known about this? How long have you been plotting—” I choked on the words, a seething, slithering feeling snaking up the base of my throat. With my eyes clenched, I finished, “How long have you been plotting to write it?”
There was a brief moment of silence so thick, it nearly robbed the room of air.
“Grayson, please,” she said through a stain of tears.
“Tell me.”
&
nbsp; “The day I met you … at the bagel shop … you gave me your card.”
My heart was a hammer taken to my ribs. Air peeled from my lungs in hard gasps. This couldn’t be real. She’d never do this to me. She wasn’t like them. She was good.
“It was also my first day at Virago,” she continued, her words breaking in half. “What I never told you was, Quinn didn’t want to hire me. She said I was too innocent to work there.” Her voice grew closer. “I was desperate, Grayson.”
Slowly, the pieces came together, forming a picture I didn’t want to see. “So, you offered me.”
I was sinking, falling, slipping into a storm I didn’t think I could survive. Stepping into a nightmare I’d thought we had vanquished together.
“Please, Grayson. You have to understand. I didn’t know you then.” Her voice was clunky. “I didn’t know that my heart would find a home in yours. That you’d surprise me in such a way that it shifted everything around me.”
I felt like I was standing in a fun house surrounded by mirrors. Looking at distorted images of her. Not knowing which Prim was the real one.
I spun, the anger spilling out of my pores. “You didn’t know because you believed the tabloids. Because, like everyone else, you only wanted a piece of me. The piece that could further your career.”
The sob she released tore straight through my gut. “I was acting on borrowed time, Grayson. I never intended to write it. I told Quinn I wouldn’t. I only wanted a shot. A chance to truly make something of myself. I thought if I could get my foot in the door, then maybe I could convince Quinn to put me on something else.”
My hands crushed through my hair. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me about the article in the first place?”
Her arms held her frail frame. “I didn’t … I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to lose you. And why tell you about something I had no plans on writing? Why hurt you that way? I thought … I thought everything was resolved when I did the piece on Alan. She was supposed to trash the notes I’d taken.” Her gaze dropped, lips curling in disgust. “I never thought Quinn would use me like that.”
Love in the Headlines: A Star-Crossed Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Love in the Headlines Series Book 1) Page 25