Page 8 of GDL

Due to the lack of room in the back seat and the restraint of the seat belts, Kynan slides in front of me, pressing into my right shoulder. I lean against him, loving the closeness way more than a professional should. At least I'm keeping my hands to myself. I should earn some credit for that.

He's almost done taking the pics when the car screeches to a halt. The driver smashes down on the horn as Kynan and I get shoved forward. Instinctively, I reach my arm out to brace him from the impact.

"Sorry, guys," the driver hisses over his shoulder. "Some asshole just cut me off."

"It's fine," I tell him, my arm still covering Kynan's chest.

Kynan's fingers curl around my forearm, and I think he's going to move me away. But he keeps his hand on me, the touch flaring a warmth that runs the entire length of my arm.

Time seems to stop. We remain connected, neither of us seemingly willing to be the first one to break away. Kynan turns slowly so we're facing each other. Pulled by an invisible force, our mouths inch closer, closer,closer?—

"We're here," the driver announces, just as our lips are about to meet.

Damn the short drive.

Pull yourself together, Sawyer. This is business, not a date.

Unfortunately, my dick doesn't get the memo, and I bustle out of the car with a steel rod in my pants.

4

Kynan

"So, why me?" I ask once we're inside, sitting in a booth, facing each other.

"Excuse me?"

"My management team tells me you've been hounding them for access for months. Why me? Why not any of the countless other creators who are killing it right now?"

Sawyer pauses, looking like he's searching for the right words, and I take the opportunity to catch my breath. The ride over to the diner took a few majorly unexpected turns. I was already sweltering internally, being in such close proximity to him for the selfie, and when we jolted forward and he covered me with his arm, I liked the way he protected me. Like it was an automatic reflex. That tells me something about the kind of man he is.

And then we almost kissed.

It's confusing enough thatIwanted to kiss him, but it wasn't just a one-sided thing. He was right there with me, leaning in, parting his lips, ready for it.

Which means…

Fuck. I don't know whatanyof this means. Sawyer's here to work. We're only together for a story. That's it.

"I think you're fascinating." Sawyer's rich voice pulls me out of my thoughts. My eyes settle on his handsome face as he goes on. "You're authentic and relatable but somehow maintain an air of mystery. You're the quintessential guy next door and the ultimate unattainable bad boy rolled into one. That's intriguing to me."

Hang on a minute. My internal defense shields fly up. Is he trying to seduce me in order to get his story? Is this a tactic he uses to get his interviewees to open up to him?

I lift my chin. "I thought you said you weren't interested in doing an exposé."

"I stand by that. I have no interest in exploiting you or invading any boundaries you may have around your private life."

His mouth opens to say something else, but before he can, the waitress returns with our food. Once she's gone, he picks up his burger, but before taking a bite, says, "I've done my research. I've gone through all the publicly available information I can find about you. But I think there's more to you than what you've shown the world so far. That's what attracted me to you. And even though you have your own platform, I think I can help you tell your story."

He has no idea how much of a story I have. Ashton arrived in my life less than a month ago. No one knows about him, except for my assistant, Tharin, and the nanny I hired, Mischa.

I haven't told my family or the BBA crew yet because I'm still processing this all myself. It might sound strange, but I want some time alone with Ashon, for me to bond with him, before I share him with anyone else. And especially before I share him with the rest of the world.

Sawyer starts rattling off what information he's gathered about my life—where I grew up, being a triplet, studying business in college, my journey from one grainy, amateurish social media post filmed in my dorm room to where I am today.

"Your research skills are top notch. I'm impressed," I tell him. "You just left out one detail."

"Oh. What's that?"

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