He keeps coming. “Da-dum-da-dum DA-DUM-DA-DUM—”
“Yes, okay! I get it, you’re utterly terrifying,” I exclaim, reeling backwards, but it’s too late.
His teeth bared in a toothy grin, he throws out his arms like a monster and attacks me — roaring and seizing me into his arms, thrashing my body back and forth like a helpless seal in the grip of a great white.
“Grayson!” I slap at his arms fruitlessly. “Let me go, you enormous idiot!”
His arms lurch me sideways again.
“I’m serious!” My words are choked with undeniable laughter as I struggle against his grip. He doesn’t listen — instead, he pretends to chomp on my neck. I feel the soft scrape of teeth against my flesh and scream again. “You’re a lunatic!”
“And you’re dead,” he whispers against the column of my throat, stilling suddenly. I freeze, barely daring to move, and my laughter disappears on a nervous exhale.
His back presses a shade closer, and abruptly there’s nothing playful about the way his arms feel around me. Nothing at all.
“Let me go,” I whisper in a very different tone.
My heart is thumping so loud, I’m sure he can hear it.
His nose grazes the pulse-point near my carotid. “Nervous?”
Reason returns in a swift instant. The joy fades from my bloodstream as common sense overtakes me.
“No.” I shrug out of his grip. “Come on. Let’s find Sloan.”
He doesn’t fight me. His arms fall to his sides and he follows me silently to the staircase at the end of the hall, which leads down to the basement studio. I don’t want to feel it, but it’s there; that magnetic charisma that first drew me to him, despite all my careful plans and well-rehearsed reasons to keep my distance.
Having fun with Grayson has never been the problem. The man wasmadefor fun. For dancing in the middle of the night and drinking rum straight from the bottle beneath the stars, telling story after story until you’re filled to the brim with belly-aching, eye-streaming hilarity.
The epitome of an extrovert, he’s always at his absolute best when things are playful and lighthearted.
It’s theseriousstuff he seems to have a problem with.
Still, after a month of terror and worry and gut-churning heartache, that stolen moment of joy was like a sip of cool water on a ninety-degree day. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until it bubbled up inside me and spilled out into the air. It’s a relief to know I can still experience those emotions. Hell, it’s almost enough to make me forget that Grayson is the reason for a large chunk of my sadness in the first place.
Almost.
Breathing deeply, I remind myself that it’s impossible for the person who broke you to be the one who puts you back together.
He cannot be both poison and antidote.
“There you two are!” Sloan calls, looking up when we walk into his sub-level studio. The sound-proof wall panels and slew of camera equipment littering the space are top of the line — he could film a whole movie, without ever leaving his house.
He pushes back his desk chair, causing his hovering PAs to jump out of the way, and crosses to meet us. “I was just going over the photos from today. They came out beautifully — I’ve already sent them off to the marketing team to work their magic. We should have the first promo poster mockups back shortly. Plus, they’re nearly finished with the sizzle reel.”
“By the end of the day,” Trey supplies, pecking furiously at his phone. “The full-length trailer will take a bit more time. Though we’ve finally finalized the official soundtrack, at least.”
“Tell me you got Woods on board?” Sloan asks.
Glancing up, Trey adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose and smiles fleetingly. “Of course I did.”
Sloan claps. “Trey, remind me to give you a raise.”
“Will do, sir.”
Not to be outdone, Annabelle leans toward her boss. “Sloan, you asked me to remind you that your personal trainer will be here in ninety minutes. Also, here’s your smoothie.”
“Right! No time to waste, then.” Our director claps his hands together and gestures at the massive black sectional on the other side of the room before grabbing the glass out of Annabelle’s hands. “Sit, sit! We’ve got a lot to discuss.”