Page 52 of PR Stunt

She waves me off, still muttering to herself about box office potential. I grab my coffee, dump in a splash of cream, a swirl of honey, and a dash of cinnamon, and stir it like it holds the key to my sanity. My hands are still a little unsteady as I think about that nightmare. My skin still feels warm. Too warm.

Anna finally pauses, her brows pulling together. “Are you okay? You look…flushed. Are you getting sick?”

Panic spikes in my chest. I force a casual sip of coffee, willing my face to cool. “No. Just slept…badly.”

Her gaze sharpens. “Badly how?”

I shrug, gripping my mug tighter. “It was too hot in my room.”

I don’t know if she buys it, but she nods, tapping her nails against her phone again. “Alright, well, take some vitamin C in case. We have things to discuss, and if Miranda loves my idea, you’re going to need to start practicing your rom-com banter.”

I resist the urge to drop my head against the counter. “Anna, no. Please, for the love of all things, drop it. And why are you even here?”

“Just a few minor things we need to go over,” she says breezily and then glances at her watch. “Oh, and Miranda and Grayson will be here in—” a pause, a quick glance at the time “—a couple of minutes.”

My eyes widen. “As in…here, here?”

Anna barely acknowledges my surprise. “Yes, here, here. We’re having a team meeting. Something’s come up.”

I narrow my eyes. “Define ‘something.’”

“The kind that requires Miranda and Grayson.”

Did the universe decide today, of all days, to test my patience?

I press my fingers to my temples. “We need to set some ground rules. No more unexpected meetings. And especially not at my house.”

Anna gives me a quizzical look.

I gesture vaguely around the room. “It’s going to get tainted.” Then I glance at her, brows raised. “And while we’re at it, maybe stop sharing my location with Grayson. I don’t need him showing up every time I breathe outside my front door.”

Anna blinks. “Tainted?”

“With gross Grayson energy.”

Anna just raises a single, perfectly arched brow. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Yes,” I quip a little too quickly.

With impeccable timing, the doorbell rings.

Anna claps her hands together. “Oh, good! They’re here.”

She strides toward the door, leaving me standing there with my half-finished coffee and a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Miranda steps inside, greeting Anna with a quick hug, her energy poised and put together as always. Trailing behind her is Grayson.

He’s fresh from a workout, dark athletic clothes clinging to every cut of muscle. His shirt is damp at the collar, hugging the sharp lines of his chest and shoulders, and the sleeves strain slightly around his biceps. His gaze shifts immediately to me. I look away before our eyes can meet, focusing intently on my coffee. But it doesn’t matter. I can still feel it. The weight of his stare is heavy, as if he’s peeling back layers and seeing straight into my thoughts. I force my posture to remain casual, lifting my mug to my lips as if that will somehow shield me from the heat creeping up my neck.

Miranda and Anna are still chatting, already settling onto the couch, their conversation flowing with an easy rhythm. And Grayson… I don’t know what he’s doing, but I feel him. His presence, the way the air shifts with it. The quiet tension humming beneath the surface.

The silence stretches. “Quiet this morning, Miss Grace.”

Miranda’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Gray?”

He lingers a second longer and then turns toward the living room. I glance up just as he moves, presumably to sit with them. I exhale slowly, willing my pulse to settle. Get a grip, Charlie. But even as I tell myself that, my skin still tingles from his gaze.

Anna singsongs, “Charlie, anytime now!”