“Will do,” she says.
“Ryder…” My voice drops lower. “Stay with Grayson. Make sure he’s all right.”
The musician winks at me, which I take as a sign of agreement.
“Masters, can you handle the paparazzi?”
He nods.
“Great.” I look around the bathroom and find every single person — with the exception of Helena — is staring at me. “What are you all looking at? We don’t have all night.Move.”
Grayson’s security team jolts into motion like I’ve fired a gun at the beginning of a race.
Harper smirks.
Masters flat-out grins at me.
It’s Ryder, who breaks the silence though.
“Called it the first time I met you, Kit-Kat.” His mismatched eyes gleam. “Badass.”
Nine
“This iswhy I have trust issues.”
- A girl realizing her shampoo will never make her look like the model in the advertisements.
With the helpof theLimbonight manager and kitchen staff, we manage to get Helena out of the club and into the car without any paparazzi taking notice. Grayson and Ryder pile in after her.
“There’s a wellness recovery center in Palm Springs.” Grayson’s eyes meet mine. “I’ll take her there, stay a while to make sure she gets settled in.”
I nod. “The press tour doesn’t start up again for a few more days, but if you need more time… just call. I’ll explain it to Sloan. Hell, I’ll do the interviews alone if I have to. I think I’m finally getting the hang of them — there’s a decent chance I might actually make it through one without saying something inappropriate or idiotic.”
“Kat…” Grayson’s throat works. “I don’t know what to say…”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I shrug.
“You hate me most of the time,” he murmurs. “And yet, you’re basically the best friend I have. Is that sad?”
“A little.” A hint of a grin tugs at my lips. “I don’t know… We tried being enemies. It didn’t really work out. Maybe that means we have to be friends.”
A strange look creeps into his eyes. “Maybe. Happy New Year, Kat.”
“You too, Grayson.”
“What am I, chopped liver?” a peeved voice calls from inside the car.
I roll my eyes. “Happy New Year, Ryder.”
“Back atcha, Kit-Kat.”
I close the car door with a click and watch them drive off. A wave of exhaustion hits me, hard.
Turning to Harper, I grimace. “Listen, I know you wanted to go dancing, but…”
She waves my words away, linking her arm with mine. “Let’s go back to your place. I’m thinking… we get into pjs, eat ice cream straight from the carton, and put on a rom-com we’ve seen a zillion times?”
“Sounds like perfection.”