ABIGAIL CROWNE ELOPES WITH MYSTERY BODYGUARD.

“You let her fucking leave?” Gray said into one phone, then snapped into the other phone, “Don’t. They aren’t related.”

When the calls ended, Gray sat down on the edge of the bed, his tie undone. “What the fuck is she thinking?”

“She loved him.”

He lifted his head at my voice, staring out at the inky Roman morning. “I always thought he was a dog who wanted to use her. Who wanted her money.”

“People would probably think the same about me,” I said lightly.

He tensed.

“You were protecting her.”

He made a noise like yeah right. It was so hard for Grayson to admit he cared. So hard. Grayson Crowne, who said he hated his sisters, who pretended he couldn’t give a shit what happened to either one, so painfully obviously grieved the loss of her.

“Now?” I hedged. “What do you think about him now?”

He dragged two hands through his hair. “I don’t know. She’s gonna lose everything.”

“Can you help?”

“Are you trying to make me a good guy, Story Hale?”

“You already are a good guy.”

Another scoff, disbelief evident in the way he refused to look at me and simply stared out the window.

“I’ve decided you care about your family,” I said.

“Oh, you’ve decided.”

“Yep.”

He laughed, dark, unamused.

“You’re just doing that Gray thing where you care so much about something that instead of admit you care, you do the opposite. You’re cruel. Because if you lose it, it might not hurt as much.”

“That ‘Gray thing.’” He shook his head on another scoff, and for a minute I was certain he was going to push me away again, but then he looked over his shoulder, locking eyes. Voice too thick, eyes too raw, bleeding, cutting. “How do you know?”

Because maybe that’s what he does with me…

I chewed my lip, looking away.

“Just a guess,” I whispered.

For the rest of the trip home Gray didn’t look at me, nor I him.

Forty-Five

STORY

We weren’t even off the plane before Grayson was pulled in all directions. He was dragged from the steps by an army of people in suits as his mother orbited.

I slowly finished the descent alone. Grayson kept whipping his head from one person to the next. I wondered if his neck would ache.

Abigail Crowne had left Crowne Hall, left her fiancé, left her family. She’d chosen her love, but now she was excommunicated. It was like the universe knew I was starting to hope and dream, and they threw a meteor-sized reminder back at me.

Grayson Crowne was Atlas, and if he left, the world around him would shatter. The company would fall apart, people would lose their jobs, his family would crumble.

But for these few days it was nice to pretend.