Chapter 2
Chapter Two
GRIFFIN
“You’re gonna love her,” Declan shouted above the noise of the restaurant. I darted right, dodging a waiter, trying to keep up. “Julie is a phenomenal human being. No need to be intimidated.”
I grunted so he’d know I heard, but I couldn’t force any words past my vocal cords.
I felt like a poser even being at The Standard.
Yes, I’d landed a gig with Hollister four months ago—courtesy of forty extra pounds and a committed relationship with the squat rack.
Which meant I was a real model, I guess.
But I’d only taken that job so I could build some savings.
And for the petty but deeply satisfying thought of my traitorous brother Bowen and my cheating ex Maggie walking separately into Hollister someday to find me staring back at them from the wall.
Shirtless. Jacked. And completely over it.
I hadn’t meant for modeling to become a thing. Firefighting was my future. Not this.
Yet here I was.
And tomorrow, I’d be walking down an actual runway, modeling Declan’s latest line.
I felt stupid just thinking about it. When my dad heard, he laughed so hard I thought he might break a rib.
I’d only agreed because Declan’s best friend, my agent, had begged me to.
He said Declan had seen my headshot and thought I’d be perfect. Also, I was getting paid bank.
“Ah, there she is.” Declan gestured toward the table of gorgeous women directly ahead. Which one was she? He’d said she had red hair like me.
My stomach knotted as I took in their faces one by one. Did all models look like they’d been airbrushed? I’d never seen so many pretty women in one place.
Declan chuckled. “I mean, I know she’s the face of the brand at DayGlow and all, but…”
Nothing he said after that computed because my mind made the connection to his words at the same time that I saw her face.
I froze. Dead stop. Heart attacking my trachea.
My runway partner was Juliette Serrant?
My mouth parted. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen on TV or online.
But somehow, she was twice as stunning in person.
Red hair blown out, swept back off her face in big, bouncy curls.
The restaurant lights shimmered along her perfect cheekbones.
Blue eyes like a cloudless sky. Lashes so thick they cast shadows.
I forgot how to breathe.
I almost forgot how to stand.
All I could do was stare.
Had I staged extremely private daydreams about us? What man hadn’t? Daydreams were safe. But meeting her in real life should come with hazard pay, because apparently I was not, in fact, built for this.
During my moment of paralysis, she broke into a wide Julia Roberts smile and gave me a finger wave.
Uh.
Uh.
Smile back, moron!
But I was powerless. My face, meanwhile, decided to combust. Get yourself together. I looked away, desperate for a reset.
Instead, I found myself staring at a very generous chest… that belonged to…
Nessa Blackwell?
What was she doing here?
She grinned, slow and deliberate, her tongue tracing her bottom lip. Don’t squirm. Don’t squirm! But it was hard not to when she was giving me that look again—the one that always felt like a slow strip search.
I swore in my head. Seriously? Juliette Serrant was friends with Nessa?
Disappointment twisted in my stomach. Anyone who chose to keep Nessa Blackwell around was waving a red flag the size of Texas.
Nessa was beautiful, yes, but she’d knife someone emotionally—or otherwise—if it got her what she wanted.
And I was supposed to meet my dream woman for the first time in front of that serpent?
Oh, heck no.
I started to turn, but Declan was suddenly there, tugging on my elbow. “Griff, what’s wrong?”
“You didn’t tell me my runway partner was Juliette Serrant,” I hissed, hands flying out in frustration.
“I’m sure I did.” He tilted his head, thinking. “I know I did.”
“No. You said her name was Julie.”
“Julie. Juliette. What’s the big deal? She’s famous. You’re famous.” He threw his hands out. “Everybody’s famous.”
“I’m not famous,” I power-whispered, trying to get him to lower his voice. “Some people in my family are, but I’m not.”
His right eyebrow climbed into his hairline. “I think you’re in denial.”
“I’m not.”
He planted his hands on his hips. “What difference does it make?”
“Wh-what difference does it make?” I stuttered.
It makes all the difference, I wanted to say.
I could walk the runway with anyone and not care one way or the other.
It was just a job. Cash in my pocket. But walking it with Juliette Smoke Show Serrant?
It would take five seconds for everyone to spot the knockoff.
Okay. I couldn’t walk the runway with Nessa either. That woman was vile.
Proving my point, she curled a finger, beckoning me over, gaze ravenous. I winced, worried that even that tiny action might dislodge one of her breasts. I turned away just in case, my fingers locking behind my neck.
“Seriously, man,” Declan said behind me. “It’s not a big deal. Julie’s super down-to-earth. You’ll see if you’ll just…” His words died, and I was grateful. I needed quiet. Needed to think through what to do.
But then someone cleared their throat behind me. A female. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could disappear. Whoever it was tapped me on the shoulder. I didn’t want to—really, really didn’t want to—but I turned…
To see my dream woman… sans Declan… who’d abandoned me to flirt with the other ladies while I hovered on the verge of collapse.
Juliette Serrant stared at me with her big blue eyes, giving me a second, as if she eased everyone in this way. I knew she was five-eleven, but I was unprepared for how tall that really was. It wasn’t imposing, though. It was… perfect.
Seriously, she had to be the prettiest woman on the planet. No, pretty didn’t begin to describe her. She was breathtaking in a way that rearranged my sense of scale. Like every other woman I’d seen up to that point had been a rough draft and she was the final masterpiece.
Fantastic. I was ruined forever.
“Hi,” she said, smile soft, like she was reining it back because she knew I was already at max capacity.
Say something, noob. But my lungs had tapped out. They’d taken one look at her and decided their work here was done.
“I’m Juliette Serrant.” Her voice—warm and soft—wrapped around my heart and stole it straight from my chest. She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you…?”
“Griffin,” I miraculously managed. “Griffin Dupree,” I added, name-dropping my own self, trying to gain some street cred.
As I spoke, she closed her eyes, smiled, and took a deep breath, like she was soaking me in. Like I was the celebrity, and she’d waited years to meet me.
Okay, that was… odd. I’d been told I had a nice voice before, but I’d never gotten a reaction like that.
Not gonna lie, I didn’t hate it.
She shoved her outstretched hand even closer, insisting on the shake. Somehow, I got my hand to lift. When our palms slid together, it nearly took out my knees.
“I know who you are,” she said, letting her smile go a little wider. “You’re the Dupree who broke the mold and left home.” She winked, and I nearly went down. “You run into burning buildings when everyone else runs out. A firefighter,” she said with a hint of teasing in her voice.
Oh. Dang.
She actually knew who I was? Not just that I was Ford’s nephew or Cash or Liam’s cousin. And she got bonus points for not bringing up Bowen.
Weirdly, the longer we stood there, staring at each other, the calmer I felt. That’s when I noticed she still had my hand in hers, and her thumb was rubbing slow circles just below my wrist.
Okay. I didn’t hate that either.
“And you’re the face of DayGlow.” I gave her a crooked smile. Only because one side of my face was still paralyzed.
Her laugh was light, just like in her interviews. “Declan filled you in, I see.” She held my gaze like she wasn’t in any rush to look away.
Flashover.
“Actually…” I smiled with both cheeks, finally free. My heart was still pounding too hard, though. “He didn’t. But my sister is definitely a fan. She says your cream blushes are a cheat code.”
“A cheat code, huh?” She grinned, and it nearly undid all my progress. “That’s good. I’m going to pass that on to marketing.”
Just when I’d almost regained my footing, Nessa sauntered toward us, eyes locked on me.
Before I could stop it, a swear word slipped out.
I shifted sideways, using Juliette to block her view of me.
Sadly, Juliette thought that meant I was done holding her hand and she let go.
But Nessa kept coming, arms wide, which only made the chest situation more precarious.
“Grif-fin,” Nessa sang, stepping in front of Juliette.
Her fingers wrapped around my wrists like tentacles.
She jerked me forward, smashing her chest against me, fingers twining into the back of my hair, forcing me to look right into her eyes.
“I’ve missed you. Missed our time together in Monterey,” she said, as though we’d shared a bed instead of a wardrobe rack.
I could feel Juliette tracing every twitch in my expression.
I reached up and pried Nessa’s fingers loose. She gripped tight, pulling out a few strands of hair before letting go.
Ouch.
“Nice to see you again, Nessa.” I offered her a curt nod and stepped in front of Juliette again.
“It really is.” Nessa slid between us, boxing Juliette out completely, expression hard and determined.
Juliette glowered at the back of her head, her mouth parted in shock.
“You know what I was thinking?” Nessa asked, half purr, half growl. I tried to ease away, but her other hand was now on my hip. “I was thinking that we—”