11. Leslie The Media Frenzy
Leslie: The Media Frenzy
I stare at the picture on my phone, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. It’s beautiful, even magical, but it’s not meant for the world to see. Not like this. Not as a scandal splashed across a tabloid site.
The headline feels like a slap. My name isn’t in the article, but it won’t be long before they figure it out.
My career, my reputation, everything I’ve worked for—it could all be ruined. I look up at Kyle. His jaw is tight, his eyes fixed on the screen, but his face gives nothing away.
“They’re digging deeper,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “They’re not stopping.”
His shoulders tense, his fists clenching. “Then we fight back.”
I want to believe him. I want to believe that he can fix this, that he can protect me from the storm that’s already building. But the fear is too strong. “How?”
He’s silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know. Not yet.” He looks at me then, his eyes softening. “But you’re not facing this alone. I promise you that.”
I want to believe him. I want to trust him. But this is bigger than just the two of us. It’s about my career, his company, his kids. There’s too much at stake.
Kyle’s phone buzzes, pulling us back to reality. He checks the screen, his expression darkening. “Paparazzi are outside the building.”
My stomach drops. “Already?”
He nods, slipping his phone into his pocket. “They must’ve tracked the story to my place.”
He runs a hand through his hair, looking around like he’s searching for an escape route. “You can’t leave tonight. They’ll follow you.”
I open my mouth to argue but stop myself. He’s right. If they see me leaving his penthouse tonight, it’ll only fuel the rumors. Still, the idea of staying feels too intimate, too risky. “I can’t just . . . stay here.”
He steps closer, his eyes locking on mine. “You can’t go out there either. They’ll eat you alive.” His voice softens. “I won’t let that happen.”
His protectiveness is both comforting and terrifying. I’ve always handled things on my own. I’m not used to relying on anyone, least of all my boss. But looking at him now, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes, I feel my walls start to crack.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll stay.”
His shoulders relax a little. “I’ll take the guest room. You can have my room.”
I shake my head. “I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”
He hesitates, then nods. “Alright. I’ll get you some blankets.”
I follow him to the hallway closet, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. How did everything spiral so quickly? Just a few hours ago, we were laughing on the floor with his kids. Now we’re hiding from paparazzi.
He pulls out a stack of blankets and turns to face me. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say, even though part of me wants to blame him. If he weren’t so charming, so easy to fall for, none of this would be happening. But I can’t blame him for my own weakness.
I take the blankets from Kyle, our fingers brushing for a brief second before I pull back. “Thank you,” I murmur, my voice softer than I intended.
His eyes linger on me for a moment before he nods. “Come on. I’ll show you the guest room.”
I follow him down the hallway, my footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. My heart races in my chest, the reality of the situation sinking in.
I’m spending the night again at my boss’s house. The same boss who kissed me senseless and made my heart race in ways I didn’t think were possible.
He pushes open a door and gestures inside. “Here it is. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s quiet. You should be able to get some rest.”
I step inside, taking in the cozy room. A queen-sized bed sits against the far wall, flanked by two nightstands with soft lamps casting a warm glow. The window overlooks the city, the lights twinkling in the distance.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper, turning to face him. “Thank you . . . for everything.”
His jaw tightens, his eyes flickering with an emotion I can’t read. “You don’t have to thank me.” He hesitates, his shoulders tensing. “I wish I could do more . . . to protect you from all this.”
My heart clenches, the sincerity in his voice making my chest ache. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
His gaze softens, his posture relaxing just a fraction. “Yeah . . . together.”
Silence stretches between us, the air heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he clears his throat and steps back. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”
I nod, my throat suddenly tight. “Goodnight, Kyle.”
“Goodnight, Leslie.” His eyes linger on me for a heartbeat longer before he turns and walks away, his footsteps fading down the hall.
I close the door softly, leaning against it as I release a shaky breath. My mind is spinning, my heart still racing from his closeness, his words, his protectiveness. I try to push it all aside, to focus on getting some sleep, but it’s useless.
I change into an oversized T-shirt I find in the dresser—it’s soft and smells faintly of laundry detergent, probably meant for guests. I crawl into the bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around me. But no matter how I toss and turn, sleep refuses to come.
My mind replays every moment from the scandal, the paparazzi to the way Kyle looked at me with such raw intensity.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but they only grow louder, more persistent.
After what feels like hours of restless turning, I give up. I push the blanket off and slip out of bed, the cool floor sending a shiver up my spine. I open the door quietly, tiptoeing down the hall, needing something . . . anything to quiet my mind.
I find myself in the living room, the city lights casting a faint glow through the large windows. And then I see him.
Kyle is sitting on the couch, his head resting against the back, his eyes closed. But his posture is tense, his shoulders rigid, his jaw clenched as if he’s fighting his own demons.
I take a step back, not wanting to intrude, but his eyes open, locking on mine. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, his voice low, rough from exhaustion.
I shake my head, hugging myself as I stand awkwardly in the doorway. “No . . . too much on my mind.”
He sits up, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah . . . same here.” He pats the empty space beside him. “Want some company?”
I hesitate, my heart fluttering at the thought. But the look in his eyes is so open, so vulnerable, that I can’t say no. I walk over and sit beside him, leaving a careful distance between us.
We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound is the faint hum of the city outside. Finally, he speaks, his voice soft, thoughtful. “I hate that you’re involved in this mess. You don’t deserve it.”
I look at him, surprised by the frustration in his tone. “It’s not your fault.”
His jaw tightens. “If I hadn’t . . . If we hadn’t . . .” He trails off, his eyes dropping to his hands. “I should’ve been more careful.”
A lump forms in my throat. “I don’t regret it,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Not a single moment.”
His head snaps up, his eyes searching mine. For a moment, neither of us speaks, the air heavy with tension. Then his shoulders relax, his expression softening. “I don’t either.”
A shiver runs down my spine, my heart racing painfully in my chest. We’re both in too deep. And despite everything . . . I don’t want to get out.
We fall into another silence, more comfortable this time. I lean back, my head resting against the couch, my eyes growing heavy. I feel his arm wrap around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I stiffen, but his touch is gentle, protective, and I find myself relaxing against him.
His heartbeat is steady, rhythmic, and before I realize it, my eyes slip shut, my body sinking into his warmth.
***
I wake up slowly, blinking against the soft morning light streaming through the window. I stretch, my body sinking into the mattress . . . Wait. The mattress?
I sit up quickly, my heart racing as I take in my surroundings. I’m in the guest room. In bed. I glance down, realizing I’m still in the oversized T-shirt, but the blanket is tucked snugly around me.
My pulse quickens as the door creaks open. Kyle stands there, leaning against the frame, his arms crossed as he watches me. A soft smile tugs at his lips. “Morning.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. Finally, I manage, “I . . . I fell asleep on the couch.”
His smile widens, a playful glint in his eyes. “You did. And I wasn’t about to leave you there all night.”
“You carried me?” My voice is a whisper, embarrassment heating my cheeks.
“You were out cold,” he teases, his eyes softening. “Didn’t even stir when I picked you up.”
I want to hide under the blankets. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” His expression shifts, his gaze locking on mine. “But I wanted to.”
My breath catches, my heart pounding in my chest. He takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “You looked so peaceful . . . so beautiful.” His voice drops, his tone turning raw, vulnerable. “I couldn’t stop staring at you.”
I can’t move. His words wrap around me, making my heart race.
His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re driving me crazy, Leslie. I can’t get you out of my head.”
My pulse quickens, my thoughts spinning out of control. He’s too close, too intense, too . . . everything.
“Kyle . . .” I start, but his phone buzzes, cutting through the moment. His jaw tightens, his eyes flashing with frustration.
“It’s Daniel. I have to take this.” He hesitates, his eyes lingering on me, filled with longing. “Stay here. Promise me.”
I nod, my voice lost. “I promise.”
He stares at me for another heartbeat before turning and walking out, the door closing softly behind him.
I fall back against the pillows, my heart racing, my mind reeling. This is more than just a scandal.
This is the beginning of something I’m not sure either of us can control.