CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Grayson
Easton: Dude, have you seen the membership numbers this morning?
Me: No, why?
Holden: Of course he hasn’t. His head has been between Jovana’s legs all morning ...
Me: Not a bad guess, asshole. But she’s been wedding dress shopping and I’ve been assigned the task of picking out the band for the reception. I’ve been listening to goddamn demos for the last two hours.
Easton: Pause the music and look at our numbers.
Me: Holy shit, we jumped THAT much in just a couple of days?
Easton: The ads are working, my man. They love seeing your face all over their feed.
Holden: No, they love seeing Jovana’s face all over their feed, let’s be honest.
Me: You’re absolutely right about that, motherfucker. It’s all her, not me.
Easton: You know this means that the marriage arm is now 28% over our objective. We’ve not only made up for all the lost revenue and memberships, but we’ve exceeded our original goal.
Me: What’s this we shit? I’ve made up the lost revenue while you two sat on your asses and ordered me around.
Holden: And you’ve loved every second of it.
Me: Oh yeah, getting bombarded on social media with endless notifications and comments is my fucking jam. I love nothing more in life than reading everyone’s opinion about me.
Easton: But look where it got you.
Holden: And look who it got you.
Easton: And look who it’s turned you into.
Holden: Did you see him at the office yesterday? He couldn’t stop smiling all day. And I know it wasn’t because Faceframe is offering us a settlement that’s going to make us even richer.
Me: Fuck them. I’ll happily take their money for the bullshit they pulled behind our backs.
Me: Regardless, you do know that I’m part of this text group ... don’t you? You’re talking like I’m not even in here.
Easton: You’re a man in love. It’s good to see, brother.
Me: That’s a big word.
Holden: Have you said it out loud yet?
Me: No.
Holden: You will. When you’re ready. But you will.
Easton: But you do feel it, don’t you?
Me: Fuck . . . yes.
Holden: My man, you’ve come a long way. How about you meet us for lunch? We have some celebrating to do.
Me: Jovana just walked through the door. Let me see what’s up for today and I’ll get back to you.
“Baby,” I growled, setting my phone on the couch as she walked into the living room, where I was sitting. I held my arms open, and she sat on my lap. “How’d it go?”
She kissed me.
Slowly.
I could taste the champagne on her tongue. It was as strong as the lavender and vanilla coming off her body.
Her arms stayed around my neck even after she pulled her mouth away. “I found a dress.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “And Mom really loved it on me, too, so they did a fitting today and they’ll do one more a week before the wedding to make sure it hugs me just right for the big day.” She traced my lips with the back of her thumb. “I can’t wait for you to see it on me.”
I’d never seen her in white.
Not a shirt, shorts, or jeans.
Not even a T-shirt or tank top.
It was a color she just didn’t wear.
I held her cheek, holding her face in front of mine. “You’re going to look fucking gorgeous.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you do right now and you’re barely wearing any makeup and your hair is in a nest on top of your head.” As she smiled, I added, “It’s not the dress or the makeup or the way you’re going to have them fix your hair, Jovana. It’s you. You’re gorgeous no matter what.”
She gave me another kiss, lingering against my lips. “Everything that comes out of your mouth is a ten on the sexy scale.”
I chuckled. “But it’s the truth.” With my palm cupping her cheek, my fingers diving into her hair, I pressed my mouth onto the vacant side of her face and took a long, deep inhale of her scent. “There isn’t a single woman I’ve ever seen who even comes close to comparing to you.”
“You’re sweet.” Her hand clasped mine. “And now I need to go for a walk because all those women you just spoke about ... they’re going to be seeing me in that beautiful dress and I need to look my absolute best.”
“You’re going for a walk now?”
“Yes, now, and every day up until the wedding.” She ran her hands down her sides. “It’s tight. Sheer in some places. It shows every part of me and—ugh. I need to up the miles. Big-time.”
“You need to do no such thing.” I lifted her off my lap and set her in the corner of the couch, moving on top of her. “Your body drives me fucking wild. You know that.” I moved in between her legs and kissed her before resting my chin on her chest. “The guys are meeting up for lunch today. I was hoping you’d come.”
Her lips spread over her teeth, her nose scrunching. “Would you hate me if I didn’t go?”
“You know I wouldn’t hate you for that.”
She combed my beard with her nails. “Go have a good time with them. I’m going for a long, long walk. We’ll probably be back around the same time, and then we can plan something fun for dinner. Deal?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that works.”
She gave me one more quick kiss and wiggled out from underneath me, hurrying into the guest room, where I assumed she was going to change her clothes. Even though she was spending every night in my room, she hadn’t moved any of her things into my closet and I didn’t push her to.
Things were working just the way they were.
As I moved into a sitting position, I found the last few demos I hadn’t listened to and played them through the speaker of my phone. Once I finished, I attached my three favorites to a text and sent them over to Jovana.
Her phone dinged just as she walked into the kitchen. She glanced at her screen and said, “Looks like someone was busy while I was gone. So, these are your faves?”
I was no longer listening.
All I could focus on was her outfit, the workout clothes that clung to her body and the baseball hat she wore on her head and the long braid of hair that rested over her tit.
My dick started to fucking throb in my sweatpants.
“You’re sure you have to go for a walk? I can cancel lunch and spend the rest of the day with my face between your legs.”
Fucking Holden.
Regardless, it wouldn’t be out of the norm to spend today that way, considering I’d spent lots of days doing just that.
Jovana grabbed a water from the fridge, her profile showing me she was still smiling. “I’m sure.” And as she walked over to me, eye-fucking me the entire way, she continued, “But I’ll be back soon and so will you and you’re more than welcome to do that all evening if you’d like.”
“I plan to.”
“Mmm. I can’t wait.” She stopped in front of me. “See you in a little while.”
I reached around and held her ass. “Yes, you will.”
She leaned down and kissed me, and after she wiped off the ChapStick that she’d left on my lips, she headed for the door. Once I heard the lock click, I pulled up the group chat I had going with the fellas and typed a reply.
Me: Text me where and when. I can leave here in 20.
As soon as the message sent, I went into my room and changed my clothes, then headed for the en suite, where I gelled up my hair and brushed my beard and sprayed on some cologne. When I was walking out of my wing, a few texts came through, causing me to take out my phone. The first was from Holden, giving me the name of the restaurant they’d chosen. The second was from the front desk in the lobby of my building.
Front desk: Mr. Tanner, I’ve left your mail and packages by the front door.
A perk of living here that I fucking loved.
I opened the front door, and sitting in a small box on the floor were a package and about ten envelopes. I grabbed it all and set it on the kitchen counter, shuffling through the mail to see whether there was anything worth looking at.
A square envelope caught my attention. It was cream, made of semi-shiny paper with my name and Jovana’s, along with our address, written in calligraphy.
When I turned it around and saw the return address, I knew what I was holding.
It was our wedding invitation.
Jade had the invitation company send us one so we could see the finished product.
I slid my finger under the thick, glued flap, where there was more cream and a hint of charcoal on the inside, and I pulled out the invitation. Jovana loved the simplicity of the design, how the actual invite was wrapped in a piece of clear vellum paper with a gold wax seal securing it shut and our initials engraved in the middle of the wax.
I didn’t know why I didn’t wait for her.
Why I pulled the wax off, unwrapped the vellum, and held the invitation in my palms.
But something made me want to see it.
Feel it.
Read the words.
Assess the heaviness as it sat in my hands.
Each invite was slightly unique since the flowers that ran along the side of the rectangle were all hand-painted by a local artist. The paper was then run through a printer with gold ink, where all the details were outlined, like our names and the location and time of the event. A small return envelope was included that requested the guest’s response and choice of entrée, whether it be meat, fish, or vegan.
Only seventy-five people were invited.
A group that was just small and intimate enough, despite the fact that I could have asked colleagues and business associates and all my employees, having more than five hundred attend.
Neither of us wanted something large.
That wasn’t because we were under contract and what would happen after the twelve months was in question.
That was because we wanted to share the day with those closest to us.
To have time to spend with our friends and family rather than making small talk with so many extra guests.
To have the ability to spend the night dancing with my wife.
My wife.
Goddamn it.
That word didn’t feel natural, but it came out so easily as I stared at our names on the paper.
I’d told Jovana I cared about her.
That I wanted more.
That I wanted us.
And I’d informed the guys that there was love there.
And there was.
I felt it every morning when I looked at her, asleep in my bed. When I ran my hand down her bare back and kissed her shoulder. When I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent she’d left on my pillow.
I’d felt it when I’d reached around and grabbed her ass before she’d left for her walk. When she’d pressed her lips against mine. When she told me she’d see me after lunch.
When I knew I’d miss her while she was gone.
Like I did now.
I didn’t know what she had done to me. What type of sorcery was inside that woman to make a man like me completely fall for her.
But it had happened.
And now I was marrying her.
I released all the air I’d been holding in my lungs and set the invitation on the counter, grabbing the package that I’d placed next to the mail. The box was rectangular and somewhat heavy, and as I read the words that had been printed on the invite, too consumed by it to pull my stare away from it, I ripped off the top of the box. Once it was open, I pulled out a thick piece of wood, the same shape as the packaging, and saw that there was an envelope taped to the top.
Unsure of what I was really looking at, I unsealed the envelope and read the handwritten note inside.
Jovana,
Every year, the department gifts a plaque to the student who receives the most views on their newspaper articles. This year, that student is you by a landslide. Admittedly, we’ve never had an article go viral. When I first had this plaque made, the article had only been published for a week; therefore, the numbers were outdated rather quickly. But given how well your article has done and the amount of attention it gained for our department, I decided to have a new plaque made (which is why this gift is coming so late). Now it shows a much more appropriate number range, which is an increase of over five million views from the original number I’d had printed.
Millions! I can’t believe it!
Our little school newspaper reached such a vast audience and that’s all thanks to you. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, as you were a star student from the moment you entered our department. That was why I never understood why you didn’t want to take credit for any of the articles you wrote. Why you always published them anonymously. Now that I see the career you’ve built and your online presence, it certainly makes sense. Writing opinion pieces doesn’t always mesh well when you’re trying to gain popularity with brands as an influencer ... and given your recent engagement, I assume that article is a skeleton you’d prefer to stay buried.
Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.
If you have any extra time or desire to do any mentoring, the students of the department, especially those who aspire to reach your level of success and emulate you, would enjoy it tremendously.
Like I said, I always knew you’d be a star. I’m thrilled that the world agrees.
Best of luck with everything—including your upcoming nuptials.
Jonathan Myers
Newspaper Director
Boston College
I set down the note, my hand shaking as the paper left my fingers.
Anonymously.
A word that wouldn’t stop repeating in my goddamn head.
I didn’t understand.
I couldn’t make sense of anything.
Not the words that the man had written to Jovana.
Or the article that he had referenced many times throughout that note.
Or the plaque, which I assumed I was holding in my hands.
I glanced down at the front of the wood, realizing I had pulled it out backward, and I slowly turned it around.
My stomach tightened when I saw the name of the newspaper at the top of the plaque, the number of views the article had received.
The title of the article.
Hooked for Life or Marketing Ploy?
The byline.
Anonymous.
The first line that I remembered so fucking well.
If you’ve been online in the last twenty-four hours, then there’s a very good chance you saw the toast Grayson Tanner, Boston’s Biggest Bachelor and cofounder of Hooked, gave aboard the megayacht he’s currently on.
Jovana had graduated from Boston College? I knew she’d been accepted. I saw the letter in her childhood bedroom right before I asked Ernie’s permission to marry her. But at the time and because there had been so many acceptance letters, it hadn’t clicked that she’d gone there. I had just assumed she’d chosen one of the other colleges.
But why had I thought that?
And why had I never asked her?
Not that her answer would have mattered or sparked anything. I wouldn’t have ever thought, out of the thousands of students who went to that school, she would have authored the article.
But she had.
Anonymous was her.
She had aired my laundry as badly as the Celebrity Alert had.
She was one of the reasons why Hooked had hired Laura.
Why the guys had forced marriage upon me.
Why I was in this fucking situation in the first place.
All . . . because of her.
I set the plaque down, my eyes shifting to the invitation.
Where our names were written.
Where, in gold, it showed that Jovana was going to be my fucking wife.
No.
Hell fucking no.
I took my phone out of my pocket, and I opened the group chat I had going with the guys.
Me: Change of plans. Come to my place. Now. And hurry the fuck up.