I unlock the door and step back as it opens and Grant Whitney enters my house. It’s been at least a couple of weeks since I last saw him, and it almost doesn’t feel real. Not only is he one of the biggest attorneys in all of Los Angeles, but he’s also devastatingly handsome with a presence that’s almost overwhelming. He’s barely two steps into the living room and it’s already like my entire house belongs to him. But unlike his son, Reed, there’s not an ounce of falseness or arrogance in Grant’s mannerisms. I guess that’s the difference between a self-made man and a boy who’s had his entire life handed to him.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his voice soothing and calm like a warm caramel latte.
“I…” I clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
It’s a half-lie; I’m still pretty upset about what happened earlier, but I’m also not heartbroken, so it’s not the end of the world.
“I heard what happened.”
“You-you did?”
Grant nods and gestures to the couch. I sit, and he takes a seat beside me. “Reed’s version at least. But I’d like to hear your side of the story.”
The way he looks at me…I almost can’t describe it. I feel instantly as though I have someone in my corner, someone who actually cares about me. His eyes are filled with compassion, and I know in my heart that I can trust him. I instantly want to pour my soul out to him because I know he would never betray me.
“Well…” I take a deep breath and go over precisely what happened. And throughout my entire explanation, Grant simply looks and listens, never interrupting, never indicating anything but belief with his eyes. Once I’m finished, he shakes his head and sighs.
“I’m sorry, Nikki. Reed never should have behaved like that. I know it may not help, but I’d like to apologize to you. A girl like you never should have had to have gone through something like that.”
“It’s all right,” I reply. “To be honest, I wasn’t really that thrilled about dating him anyway.”
Grant smiles. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I was just sort of…well, to be honest, I don’t really even know why I was with him.”
He looks at me for a moment, almost as if examining me, as if he’s thinking about what to say next. I shift uncomfortably. Did I say something wrong?
“What did you say you were doing before he showed up?” Grant asks. “You were writing something?”
“Oh, yeah,” I laugh nervously. “That’s nothing. Just something I do as a…hobby.”
“May I see it?”
I freeze.
“See…my writing?”
He nods. “That’s right.”
“Oh, I…no one’s ever asked to see my writing before.” Panic starts to spread within me like I’ve been injected with an ice slushy. I wait for him to give me an out – say he’s just messing with me or something, but he doesn’t. He nods and smiles earnestly.
“Really? That’s terrible. I’d absolutely love to read your writing, Nikki.”
“Oh…well, okay. Yeah, I could e-mail you something—”
“No, no. I mean now.”
“Now?” My panic spreads, warming and filling my cheeks with blush.
“Yes, now!” he chuckles. “Come on, go get your laptop. Let me see this masterpiece you’re working on.”
Grant pats me gently on the knee, but my nerves are already on high alert, and that combined with his touch is enough to send me rocketing to my feet.
“Oh! Um, okay!” I stammer. “I-I can do that I guess!”
“Great.” Grant smiles as I turn and quickly pace back to my bedroom. I’m burning up. Every inch of my body is on fire, and as I pass the full-length mirror leaning against my wall, I realize I also look like an absolute train wreck. Like a tornado picked me up and threw me three states and I crawled back through the door just before Grant arrived.
As fast as possible, I finger-comb my hair and swap my beat-up sweatshirt for a slightly nicer sweater, grab my laptop, and head back to the living room where Grant is reclining on the couch looking like he just came back from a photoshoot.
“I have to warn you,” I say as I take my seat beside him. “It’s just a short story, it’s not edited, and it was never written for anyone else to see.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiles, taking the laptop from me. “I bet it’s great.”
He lifts the top, and it opens to my Word document. As his eyes begin to scan the page, I start to panic.
“It’s about a little girl whose dad died and how she has to move schools and how hard it is without him there,” I blurt out. “Do you want a drink? Because I’m going to get some water.”
“Sure.” Grant smiles. “Water would be fine. Thank you.”
My whole body buzzing, I scurry away to the kitchen and pour two glasses of water at the sink. Then I close my eyes and lean against the counter and take several deep breaths and try to calm myself.
Is this really happening?
That’s the question I keep repeating over and over in my mind as I stand there and picture Grant Whitney, the man I’ve been lusting over since I first saw him, sitting in my living room with my laptop, reading my latest short story.
“I bet it’s great.” That’s what he said. But what if it isn’t? What if he hates it? What if he finishes, closes my laptop, and tells me I should never write again? Tells me I have a better chance of winning the lottery while being struck by lightning and then leaves? I shrivel at the thought and nearly drop his glass of water as I pick it up and turn to go back to the living room.
I stop in the doorway and stare. Good God, he’s so fucking hot. He’s like an absolute vision of masculinity, sitting there in his suit like he owns the place, my laptop on his lap, his gorgeous eyes scanning the screen as he goes over my story. Just being this close to him has me on fire and my mind shuffling through countless filthy fantasies I could only dream this man would act out with me.
Or things he could teach me…
As quietly as possible, so as not to disturb his reading, I tiptoe over to the couch, set his water down in front of him, and take a seat beside him. He glances over at me and smiles but goes back to his reading. My heart is racing, but I do my best to remain calm as he finishes reading. It’s not a long story. Once he’s finished, he gently closes the laptop, takes a sip of his water, and turns to me.
I feel like I’m about to burst.
“You’re a wonderful writer, Nikki.”
The squeal of delight that comes out of my mouth must sound like a dying mouse. “Really? You think so!?”
Grant nods. “I do.”
“You’re not just saying that!?”
“I would never lie to you,” he replies. “Especially not about something that I know means so much to you. I can feel the passion in your words, Nikki. In the way you describe things, the way you have your characters speak. I think you have a real future here.”
“Oh my God…” I almost faint and have to lie back just to keep from falling onto the floor.
“May I ask why you haven’t pursued this?”
“My parents,” I sigh. “My mom is just lukewarm about the whole thing, and my dad…well, my dad…”
“Discouraging?”
I nod. “You could say that.”
“Well, Nikki,” Grant says, moving closer to me. “I really think you should. I think you have real talent here, and it’s a shame, a real shame no one’s been around to encourage you.”
Grant’s words go straight to my chest as our eyes meet. I see something there, but surely I’m imagining it, right? I see a look that he should not be giving me. A look that I’ve wanted him to give me since the day we first met, but a look that I never thought I would see from him. A look that says, “I want you, Nikki.”
“I…”
“Or if you don’t want to be a best-selling author, you could always just model.” He smiles, causing me to just melt inside. “This is Los Angeles, after all. I mean, just look at these cheekbones.” With the back of his middle finger, Grant gently traces a line across the right side of my face, a look of admiration in his eyes.
A heat blooms between my legs. I was wet before, but now I’m absolutely soaking.
“And this figure,” he says softly, letting his hand move down to my hips, tracing a line across the curve of my hips. “You’d drive all the men crazy, Nikki. Just like you’re doing to me now.”
God, I’m going to leave a spot on the couch cushion!
I shift my weight, lean onto my left thigh, and look down to hide my blush. He’s hitting on me. Grant Whitney is actually hitting on me. This is what I’ve wanted for so long. But even still, there’s something eating at me that I just can’t ignore.
“I…we shouldn’t,” I whisper.
“Why not?” Grant asks.
“Reed. He’s your son.”
Grant chuckles and lifts my face so I’m looking into his eyes. “Step-son. Barely. From my ex-wife, last marriage. I told her I’d look after him until he was out of college, so I’m still stuck with him for a couple more years.”
I light up inside. “Seriously? So he’s not your—”
“No.” Grant shakes his head. “No blood relation.”
Suddenly, I realize I’ve been extremely tense all over because as he says this to me, my entire body relaxes inch by inch from my eyebrows to my toes.
“That…that might be the greatest thing I’ve ever heard,” I whisper.
Grant smiles, leans in, and before I can even react, he kisses me.
I could swear a million fireworks go off above my house at that very moment. I could swear the whole world lights up all around me and a symphony begins playing a song never played before just for me.
Goosebumps break out all over my body as I accept his kiss because that’s all I can do. I can’t even kiss back because I’m in shock. Good shock, though. With that one single kiss, Grant manages to wipe away all the negativity from tonight and plant a golden seed in my heart.
He pulls back and looks at me, his eyes filled with passion and desire that make me feel so special, like I’m the only girl in Los Angeles tonight. I bite my lip nervously.
“Come home with me tonight, Nikki. Can you do that?” I nod. God, do I want that. Grant grins. “Leave your folks a note?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t need to. They won’t care. They’ll just assume I’m out with Reed.”
Grant stands and extends his hand to me, which I take. Like the world’s greatest gentleman, he lifts me to my feet. I feel like a princess. A smile breaks out over my face, and all I can hope is that I don’t look like a total ditz as I smile up at him.
“Well, you won’t be with Reed tonight, baby,” he tells me. “You’ll be with me. The only man in this city who truly knows how to appreciate you and just how beautiful and talented you are.”
I can’t breathe. It’s really happening. Grant Whitney is asking me on…a date? And I’m absolutely, one hundred percent, going to go with him.
