Page 144 of Wild Eyes
I smile back. “Hell yeah.”
“Good luck, Miss Stone. I’ll be rooting for ya.”
I nod to him in thanks, grateful for that final vote of confidence, and step out into the chaos. The sun is bright, but the camera flashes are brighter.
My shoulders stiffen, and I steel myself to carry on.
I hate this.
And then…relief. Relief that I can finally admit I hate this circus. This show. This life.
I blink once and step up the gently sloped ramp with a natural smile on my face. It doesn’t hurt my cheeks, and I’m not faking it.
I intend to fully enjoy this walk down the red carpet.
After all, I intend for it to be my last.
“Skylar!”
“Miss Stone!”
“Skylar!”
People call my name from every direction, and I tune them out. What I hear in my head is the soft lapping of waves on a lakeshore and the call of a loon as it floats across the water. It centers me, but I start when a hand lands on my back.
I turn, expecting it to be Ford.
“Oh, there you?—”
I stop short when my gaze lands on baby blues I’d know anywhere.
“West,” I breathe as I soak in the sight of him as though he might be some sort of cruel mirage.
He’s here.
He looks fucking edible in a tuxedo. Hair styled. Stubble the perfect length so that he doesn’t look too put together.
He’s here.
He’s a sight for sore eyes. And yet…I can find no words to say to him.
He’s really here.
I’m shocked.
His hand wraps around my hip possessively as his head dips close to my ear. “Surprise?”
I can’t stop the shiver that races down my spine, and I don’t hesitate at all as my body turns in toward his. I want nothing more than to be close to him. To touch him.
“You’re here” are the only words my addled brain can string together.
His smile. It’s warm. It’s safe. It’s all for me. “I’m here.”
“What are you doing here?”
One cheek tugs up, a dimple forming in its wake. “Didn’t really think your number-one fan would miss his girl winning tonight, did you?”
“I haven’t won.”
