Page 57 of Knot Just A Fan

“Good luck, Brie,” says Cami. She winks at me and lofts both fists in the air. “You got this. Say you what you need to say, and don’t leave until you hear what you need to hear. Whatever that ends up being.”

I smile tightly, and Ash takes my hand—actually puts it in his, which I want to bat him away and sayDo NOT touch me in any way unless you want me to drop you to the sand.I grimace and follow as the slick starts to slide down my inner thigh.

Oh, God. Timing.

CHAPTER 24

Briella

“This is Briella,she’s a friend of ours. Please treat her well, guys,” Ash says. He slips something to both the jacked dudes with sunglasses and earpieces standing in front of the steps up to the DJ booth, which is centered in the middle of the beach area outside the hotel. The crowd is swarming around it, except for a thin cordoned-off path from the steps back toward the path. There is a small police presence in case things get out of hand but otherwise, this looks like a sun-seeker’s paradise, with the sky a glaze of orange and pink, and the breeze enough to flutter hair and the dancing flames on tiki torches around the perimeter.

There’s a bar set up along the back and Ash gives me a squeeze on the shoulder as the slick continues to soak my underwear. I bite my lip which he no doubt takes as nerves but honestly I’m going to need a towel pretty soon. He disappears toward the bar and the security men are staring at me.

I can’t see Grayson from down there, but the Balearic tunes he’s pumping out are getting more insistent and danceable, putting me into a dreamy beach mood. But I never in a million years picturedbeingon a dreamy beach with a DJ—Grayson,of all people—choosing the tracks and about to get hit with something he’s definitely not ready for.

I look at them and nod my thanks. They close the little gate across the stairs behind me as I take them up to the booth. They’re metal and my off-brand sandals clack on them but no way can Grayson hear it. As I reach the top, probably only my head and shoulders visible from the crowd, he’s leaning over a laptop and some other tech stuff I couldn’t name if you put a gun to my head. That’s when I hear a shout from below.

“Get in, Phillips!”

Cami. Oh my God.

I start to shrink down, even though no one at this party will know she’s yelling at the woman who just entered the DJ booth, but of course, that’s enough to make Grayson look up, and around.

His nostrils are flaring as he does. Beside him on the decks is a drink with a little umbrella in it. It’s a creamy color, something coconutty, I imagine.

I swallow hard. “Hi.”

Grayson pulls his over-ear headphones down slowly, but I can’t see his eyes behind the aviators.

“Ash again,” he says slowly. Then he swallows visibly. “One sec.” He turns back to the laptop, clicks a few times on the mouse, scrolls around, clicks again, then removes the headphones. He turns to me, hands at his side but his index fingers twitching. “Hi.”

“Ash told me about this.” I hold up my hands and shake my head. “I’ve already vowed to not breathe a word. You can trust me. I hope you know that—after what happened the other night. That wasn’t about—about?—”

His divine cedar and cinnamon scent fills my head. Even though I can’t see his eyes, the stubble on his jaw is enough to pull my hand forward. I want to touch him so bad, in a way I’venever been allowed to, or invited to. I want to dive into him like the ocean.

And I feel like I’vebeenin the fucking ocean because my panties are drenched. Slick is freely running down my leg and my nipples press against my top like a neon sign.

“Jesus, you’re in heat,” he says. He steps closer. “Your scent—oh God. You’re here. You can’t be here.”

There’s only inches between him and I. I reach out a hand. His verbal acknowledgement of the situation is enough, but I can see the bulge in his tan trousers pressing against the fabric. He leans in and takes a whiff of my hair, and then pulls me into a hug.

“Let’s pretend we’re just hugging, Briella. Just hugging.”

His lips are by my ear, and mine by his. “Wearejust hugging, Grayson,” I whisper back.

“What are we going to do about this, hey?” he asks softly.

“I think it’s time I tell you—I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve never stopped, since I saw you at the Guild, that first day. I wanted to be polite, professional, never let anyone think I was there to do anything but learn and grow as an artist, to do my job.” I babbling but I can’t stop. “So I never told you. But I tried to. And now, I need to hear what you wanted to say to me in Nice. Because I—I?—”

I stop, my body keeling forward against him. Oh, shit. I’m going to go into full-blown heat right here in the middle of a crowd. People everywhere below us, nowhere to hide. Nowhere, except?—

Grayson pulls me to kneeling so we’re not visible to the crowd anymore.

“They’ll think I’ve slipped out to the bathroom.” He pulls off his aviators and chucks them aside, revealing wide, focused eyes.

“Unless people noticed me come up here.”

“They didn’t,” Grayson says, his voice hoarse. We’re both on our knees. I want him to touch me, to press his lips to my body, but I need to hear something first. I want to hear it. Before I can truly enjoy what’s about to happen.

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