Chapter Fifteen
Before:
Grady
He waited at the reception area with her name typed out on an iPad, trying to blend in with all the other hired drivers around him. One of the band's usual drivers, Quint, stood next to him, keeping an eye on the crowd. He doubled as a bodyguard in case someone recognized him. Which wasn't happening often.
A couple quizzical looks floated his way with only a few lit with recognition. Thankfully, no one approached. Most people were too busy getting where they needed to go to even notice anyone else around them. He liked those people the best. He was nervous enough about this visit.
Since the pre-article came out, the paps followed him around when they caught him, wanting a comment on Cate's interview. He kept walking when they swamped him, doing his best not to be reactionary and say something he'd later regret. He had to sneak out the back of the studio to get here tonight, not wanting anyone to know where he was going. Or who he was picking up.
"Her plane did land, right?"
Quint nodded. "Yes, sir."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, sir. They'll be here soon. Jerry texted they were in baggage claim a few minutes ago."
"Have I mentioned how much I hate baggage claim?"
"Yes, sir."
"Fantastic."
He didn't have to wait much longer.
Page appeared at the top of the escalator with Jerry right behind her. He had her luggage along with his own rolling suitcase. They made an interesting, unsuspecting pair.
Good. No one had harassed them.
Grady smiled.
The unneeded sunglasses he had on hid the vat of emotions boiling inside of him. He'd been in New York with the band for what felt like forever. They'd managed to score an extended amount of time with the studio so they were doing their best to get the selected tracks done. But he missed home and Emory was right. Not that he'd ever admit that.
She looked around, taking it all in, not seeing him yet.
Which was good because it gave him a chance to take a picture of her and appreciate how bright her outfit was against the doom and gloom of the New Yorkers around her.
February was cold in New York. Every inch of her was covered but her head.
Brightly colored leggings wrapped up her legs, the UGG boots he bought her for Christmas graced her feet, and her favorite college hoodie covered his favorite part of her anatomy.
Well, one of his favorite parts.
His smile turned into a grin.
He was so getting between those legs later tonight.
The second she spotted him her face lit up and the rest of her turned into languid grace as she stepped off the escalator in his direction. She wove through the crowd like an expert, clutching the strap of her carry-on in impatience. She didn't stop, not even when people moved into her way. A few times Jerry had to tug her out of the way before she trampled someone or vice versa.
Then Page Townsend stood before Grady Sinclair.
And the world stopped.
She opened her mouth to say something, about to tell him what he imagined would be an impressive hello. He didn't give her the chance though. He passed the iPad off to Quint, grabbed her by the back of the neck, and hauled her forward to seal his mouth over hers.
