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My schedule started with the VIP photo ops. The four of us moved like an odd bird formation: Moses led the way with me slightly behind her and JJ and Nick flanked my rear at either side. The triangle shape was pretty effective for navigating through a crowd, but it was unnecessary at the moment.
We took the elevator that was designated for the con’s celebrity guests and made our way into the ballroom from a side entrance.
The lines were already hundreds deep and getting longer by the second.
Winding around the generic curtains, Meryl took a comfy position in the corner and immediately started scrolling through her phone, no doubt triple checking the schedule and catching up on emails.
But when I looked around the small square space, a petite blonde was sitting in the photographer’s chair.
And I knew her. Without thinking, my lips pulled at the corners from the sight of her.
“If we’re going to keep running into each other like this, perhaps I should know your name,” I offered. Taking a few steps towards her, I was acutely aware of Meryl’s eagle-eyes and even sharper hearing.
I waited for a response, but when it became evident that this beauty was tongue-tied, I couldn’t help but smile genuinely.
Whatever she was thinking played across her sun kissed face. Her nose scrunched up, creating three tiny lines across the bridge of it while she began chewing on her plump bottom lip.
Her eyes darted between my face and chest, then back to my face, settling on what I assumed was the area between my eyes.
I felt bad that she was flustered and a part of me wondered if it was because she was replaying the events of last night.
Another moment passed before she eventually answered. “Lucy. My name is Lucy.” It left her mouth in a rush. And it was really cute.
Before I could test her name on my tongue, she made her way off the chair. I took another step closer to meet her and shake her hand officially, though all of our encounters thus far had been nothing short of unconventional.
But her toe caught on a cord as she took her first step and her body lunged forward, colliding with mine.
Instinctually I caught her, grasping her by her upper arms. They felt small under my grip, and I knew for certain that my hand would be able to encircle her wrist if I tried.
It didn’t take a genius to feel the mortification rolling off her. Lucy’s face was smashed against my chest and I’d be lying if I didn’t like the way it felt, regardless of how ridiculous the situation was or how we looked.
And then she spoke. It was something close toJesusbut it came out muffled and more attuned toGee-thuth.
It took a lot of effort not to laugh—not at her, but how it came out. I was finding that in the little bursts of time that I had been around her, she was very animated and humorous.
I’d wager she’d be fantastic at any form of physical comedy like slapstick and expressive faces. But this was not the time to suggest that.
I felt a gentle rumble of a laugh escape me and said, “Not quite. It’s Jake, actually. Nice to meet you.”
And there it was. Girl meets boy. Boy meets girl. Not quite our first meet-cute, but a meet-cute nonetheless.
Lucy braced her hands on either side of my abs, pushing herself off of me. She righted her body and looked at me, her hands still securely placed under my ribs.
“Shit, sorry,” she swore, yanking her hands off my torso like I was the Human Torch and not just a man.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” I told her affably. Although I was sorry that we were no longer so close. “Did I smash your face?”
Lucy was discretely patting her cheek. “Huh? What? No,” she stammered. Dropping her hand, she made an effort to be grounded and stiff. Perhaps she thought nothing would happen if she emulated a wooden post. “I was checking for drool…not because you’re so hot—I mean, you are. Shit. That’s not what I meant. I was checking to see if—you know what? Never mind.” Her eyes cut to my chest again, raking it for any evidence of her non-existent saliva. “At least you made it out unscathed,” she joked.
But had I?I wondered.
We were interrupted by a staff member, who eyed us curiously. “Good morning, Jake. You ready?”
I refrained from sayingI was born ready, because, really, who says that? Liam did, actually. I settled for, “Ready when you are.”
In the meantime, Lucy had resumed her position on her perch, pouring her attention into the camera, checking different settings, and shooting a few test shots to see if the flashes were working properly.
The poor timing of things left me feeling remorse; nothing had been my fault or hers, but I couldn’t help feeling a little guilty.
