Page 59 of PR Stunt

Chapter 20

Inside my trailer, the team is in full prep mode for the race. Sienna stands in front of the clothing rack, holding up two activewear sets and debating which will photograph best. Luca keeps the makeup light and natural. Juno’s sprawled on the couch, snorting at her phone. Anna sits across from her, glued to whatever crisis she’s handling.

Meanwhile, I’m mentally preparing for mud. And lots of it.

Luca leans back. “How’s this?”

A glance in the mirror. I nod. “Love it. But remind me… What’s the point if it’ll be washed away in 1.25 seconds?”

Luca grins. “Please. You’ll still be gorgeous. Some people could only dream of pulling off swamp chic.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re being nice because you plan to mock me later.”

Juno doesn’t look up. “One hundred percent.”

Luca clutches chest. “Me? Never.”

“Lies,” I mutter.

I turn to Juno. “Remind me why you’re here again?”

She grins. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Sienna strides over, holding activewear. “All black. It’s sleek, flattering, screams serious competitor.”

Luca steps back dramatically. “I can’t wait to watch this live. Especially later in glorious slow motion.” He pauses. “And by this, I mean Grayson.”

“Think he’ll go shirtless?” Juno asks.

Anna adds, “Miranda and I considered it. Decided it sent the wrong message.”

Shaking my head, I grab the clothes and head to the bathroom. As soon as the door clicks shut, Anna calls out, “Cameras are everywhere. Mics too. Full performance the second you step out.”

I pull on the leggings, wincing as a dull ache shoots through my calves. Right, the run earlier. Pilates might not have been my smartest move.

When I open the door, Anna’s already staring me down.

“I mean it,” she says. “No more lingering stare-downs and thinly veiled threats.”

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”

She lifts an eyebrow.

“I’ll be the loving girlfriend. I promise.” I flash a saccharine smile.

“Good. Now go convince the world. Make sure to add in some lingering touches.”

Juno whistles. “Damn, Char. It’s giving badass assassin energy.”

I snort, stretching. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I still have to survive this thing.”

A soft knock hits the trailer door.

The door swings open, and in walks Grayson, dressed in all black—a sleeveless muscle tee that does nothing to hide the years of training beneath it and athletic shorts that prove he definitely doesn’t skip leg day.

Juno visibly perks up, her head tilting as she takes him in. Luca mutters under his breath. I try not to look. Really, I do. But my traitorous gaze shifts anyway, catching the way the fabric stretches across his chest, the sharp cut of his arms exposed in a black muscle shirt. I feel it before I see it. His gaze. Roaming, slow and deliberate. A prickle of awareness rolls down my spine. I keep my posture relaxed, my expression neutral, but I can feel him taking me in. Cataloging the slick ponytail, the fitted leggings, the all-black outfit—basically twinning with him. Sizing up his teammate.

“Miss Grace,” he greets me.