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“Nice to meet you. I’m Lauren, your personal shopper.” She extends her hand, and we shake. "Please come with me. Mr. Moore is waiting in our VIP area.”
Mr. Moore.
A jolt of anticipation works its way through me.
She leads the way through a spotless, polished floor, and we enter the elevator.
“Preparing for an exciting trip?” she asks as the elevator goes up.
“Yes.”
She smiles. “I’ve heard.”
I wonder what else she’s heard. Did Grey tell her we’re not in a real relationship? I shake my head. Doubtfully. A man like him doesn't waste time with explanations, not that he owes any to salespeople. He doesn’t owe anyone shit—at least, that’s the vibe I get from him.
A thread of pride goes through me—fake pride, sure, but I’m still excited as a musical ping announces we’re on the VIP floor. This could be my life. One day. Going to meet my sexy man in some swanky store and making small talk with Gigi Hadid’s long-lost twin.
And one day… I’ll date a man as hot as Grey.
He doesn’t need to be as rich as Grey. Nope. I’m realistic.
The unreliable, horny part of me warns that I’d date a man who looked like Grey even if he had an atrocious credit report. Damn it.
She walks me through the hallway. This is a spacious floor, with only a few people on it. A couple of women are on the far side, one sitting as the other shows a long sparkling gown that belongs in an Oscar’s exclusive after-party.
I scan the area, and on the left side, I see him.
Grey.
Sitting on the leather couch, taking a drink from the attendant.
My heart does a pirouette in my chest, and I tell myself it's because of what being here means. I curl my toes inside my Converses and swallow the lump in my throat.
Holy shit—he’s so hot.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored dark gray suit with a blue shirt underneath, he’s the embodiment of big dick energy.
My throat feels tight, my lips dry, and I fidget with the hem of my shirt.
A man like Grey makes every part of me achingly alive, like I’ve been asleep before.
The other day, when we talked, I was drunk on the adrenaline of my crazy idea. But now, that novelty has passed somewhat, and I can focus on how gorgeous he is. A mistake—one that can land me in trouble. I can’t have my heart broken again.
For once, when it comes to my romantic life, I need to be smart.
His eyes meet mine, and this ball of heat rolls through my body, searing every part of me. I square my shoulders and try to keep my cool. Then, I shake my hands like I'm drying them off after washing them. Yeah, cool my ass.
“All good?” Gigi Hadid’s lookalike asks. I already forgot her name, but to be fair, when I look into his eyes, it’s hard to remember my own name.
“Oh, yes.”
She says something I can't comprehend because my heart stampedes in my chest like it's got an overdue errand to run. Grey stands like a well-bred southern gentleman when I join him.
My brain is going for extra credit, but my body has flunked the resisting Greyson Moore class.
“Hi, nice seeing you.” I extend my hand to him like we’re in a business meeting. “This is great!” I say, and my voice sounds squeaky at the end.
Gigi looks at me and says, “I’ll be back with our selection.”
