Page 126 of PR Stunt

I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “Grayson…”

My muscles lock as he lifts his hand, hovering it just beside mine where it rests on the counter.

Close enough to feel the warmth of his skin.

“Tell me you feel nothing,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Say it didn’t mean anything, Charlie. Tell me, and I’ll leave.”

My throat is dry. I go to open my mouth, the words forming before I fully grasp them. Do it, Charlie. Tell him. Tell him it never meant anything. Never will.

He steps closer. So close that the air shifts between us, charged. The warmth of him seeps into my skin, and the scent of him wraps around me, making it impossible to think. My muscles lock as my pulse hammers so hard that I swear he can hear it.

“Say it,” he murmurs.

My breath shudders. I tilt my chin up instinctively, and God…his eyes. They burn into me, making my knees weak and my thoughts tangle. But when I look at him, really look at him, the words won’t come.

His gaze searches mine for one beat longer, and then something shifts in his face. Not anger. Not frustration. Something quieter. Acceptance, maybe.

A slow breath leaves him.

“Okay,” he says softly. He reaches for his tie and blazer, gathers them from the counter and stool, and then turns toward the back door.

For half a second, I stay frozen.

Then the sound of the latch hits something sharp inside me.

“Wait.”

The word escapes before I can pull it back.

He pauses. Bare feet against the floor, robe brushing my legs, I move after him and catch his wrist just as he turns back. His gaze drops to my hand and then lifts to my face.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit, my voice thinner than I want it to be. Honest in a way that makes my chest ache. “No one ever…” I shake my head, struggling for the words. “No one ever makes me want to stop thinking long enough to just feel it.”

Something in his expression softens completely now.

“I keep trying to say the right thing,” I whisper. “The smart thing. The version that keeps everything clean and controlled, and I can’t, because you’re standing here, and I…”

My breath catches.

“I don’t want you to leave. I hated that text because it mattered,” I say, gaze locked on his. “You matter. And I’m sorry.”

I hesitate. “But how do I know this is real for you? It’s not like you have the best history when it comes to…”

I gesture vaguely back and forth between us. “This.”

He lifts a hand, his fingers grazing my cheek before settling there. His thumb brushes over my skin. “Charlie,” he murmurs, his voice steady, unwavering. “I don’t care if there was a contract, or pr, or a schedule someone else wrote. None of it mattered. You did. You do.” His fingers tighten just slightly, like he needs me to hear this. Really hear it. “You are it for me. No one else. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”

My breath stutters, but he doesn’t stop.

His jaw clenches, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Do you know what it did to me when I heard you scream in terror today?” His voice is lower now, rougher. “Charlie…” He exhales sharply, his hand flexing against my cheek. “I have never been more scared in my life. I swear, my heart stopped. Nothing else existed. Only getting to you.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw, and his thumb brushes over my skin again. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” he says, voice raw and real. “And even if you decide you don’t want me, I will want you.” His grip tightens for half a second before he forces himself to let go, his hand falling to his side and giving me space I don’t want. His gaze searches mine. “I always will. I want everything with you, Charlie.” His voice is quieter now but no less steady. “I want to cook with you, even if you’d roll your eyes the entire time. I want to take you on a road trip on my bike, just to feel you holding onto me. I even had to subtly ask Anna how you like your coffee,” he adds with a dry laugh, shaking his head like he still can’t believe himself. “Because that kind of thing means something to me now.

“At first, it was all fun and games. Just me enjoying getting a rise out of you, the way you’d bite back with something sharp and clever. How you called me on my bullshit like no one else ever has. The way you never gave me the satisfaction of rattling you.” He swallows hard.

“Somewhere along the way, the game stopped being a game. You had me completely. And after that, it wasn’t about choosing to fall. It was about admitting I already had.”

My heart pounds, loud in my ears.