Grant and I catch up on a few other things as we walk to the elevators. He’s heading back to his hotel, where Sophia has joined him for the weekend. They’re using this quick trip as an engagement celebration. I still can’t believe that he actually got down on one knee on the Oscars red carpet to propose to her just last month. After all the drama they went through in getting together last year, I’m happy it all worked out for them.
“Where you headed?” The voice behind me is like nailson a chalkboard. While familiar, it’s incredibly irritating and impossible to ignore.
I turn to find Jess following me, her expression a mix of curiosity and determination. It’s annoying how good she always looks. Only she could pull off a bare stomach under a blazer and still look professional.
“Why are you so interested in where I’m going, Jess? Are you stalking me?” I raise an eyebrow.
“You wish.” She matches my expression perfectly.
A low chuckle escapes, but not because I think she’s funny. I know she smells blood in the water. This woman knows everything about everyone in town. It’s a sickness. As annoying as it is, it’s also pretty damn impressive.
“I don’t have any information to share with you yet. I haven’t even heard the story myself.”
“Great. I’ll join you for the call.” She steps closer to the elevator, making it clear she’s not going anywhere.
I turn toward her and slide my hands in my pockets, sizing her up. “If you want to come up to my room, you just have to ask, Jessica.”
“Jess,” she corrects, her eyes narrowing. “And puh-lease. If I wanted a disappointing two minutes of bouncing up and down, followed by nausea and regret, I’d ride the Screaming Eagle at Six Flags, Luke.”
“Lucas,” I counter automatically, my lips twitching. “And that’s…oddly specific.”
The elevator dings.
I want to be surprised when she follows me in, but of course I’m not. She’s relentless. She has been since the day we met at USC eight years ago. Back then, she had anotebook and a mission. Now she has an audience and a platform, but the effect is the same. She’s always chasing the story. And somehow, it’s usually mine.
I step in first and pull out my phone, already scrolling through the email from legal, trying to figure out what kind of storm I’m about to walk into.
Jess steps in right behind me, moving uncomfortably close—like, on-purpose close. I catch her leaning just slightly, trying to peek at my screen like she’s trying to sneak a look at the answers during a final.
“Seriously?” I say, tilting my phone toward my chest. “Ever heard of boundaries?”
She shrugs, unbothered. “Ever heard of transparency?”
I slide my phone back into my pocket and glance down at her. She’s grinning and completely unrepentant, looking way too pleased with herself.
The elevator doors close, sealing us into a mirrored box of tension and too little air. Her scent trails behind her: a hint of honeysuckle with a touch of ocean. Floral and sun. She’s standing so close that I can feel the heat radiating off her skin, the brush of her arm every time the elevator shifts. I’m one second away from leaning toward her, just to confirm if it’s her perfume or her hair that smells so good.
Then I catch our reflection in the elevator’s chrome interior and see her with that smug little smirk, while I look like I’m five seconds away from doing something stupid. I take a tiny step to the right, just enough to clear my head.
She watches the movement with a glint in her eye, like she knows exactly what I’m doing. And maybe she does. That’s the thing about Jess Lexington: she’s always twosteps ahead, which is exactly what makes her so damn dangerous.
And so hard to ignore.
“So, what happened? It was Levi’s car that crashed, right?” she asks as the elevator begins its ascent.
“I’m not sure.” I keep my voice neutral and stare straight ahead at the mirrored doors.
“Was he hurt? Or was he driving? Was anyone with him?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you know anything?” Impatience creeps into her voice.
“I know that there’s nothing to share with you right now.”
She rolls her eyes and slumps against the wall, her thumbs flying across her phone like she’s trying to summon national security secrets from thin air. I’m pretty sure she’s already texting three sources, digging for details I haven’t even confirmed yet.
The elevator dings again.
