Page 134 of When We Had Forever
“I think I might have to,” I say slowly. “It’ll only drive me crazy if I don’t.”
“Oh, thank god.” Her tone changes in an instant. “Because I’d never hear the end of it if Tanner caught me watching that garbage at home.”
She jabs a few buttons and brings upCelebrity Confessions. Within seconds, a familiar name pops up in the episode summary.
My heart bucks even before Kate hits Play. She tucks her legs underneath her and leans toward the screen, as if she’s forgotten everything else.
The moment Grayson appears, I forget, too.
God, he’s gorgeous. I hadn’t remembered just how much. He’s wearing his usual fitted T-shirt and leather jacket, and in the soft-focus lighting of the set, his hair throws its own gold-dark glow. It’s grown, too, just enough to notice. He lounges in an armchair with one ankle slung over the opposite knee, and the way his lashes fan across his cheeks when he looks down is nothing short of sultry. And...
I force back a whimper. He’s wearing the puka shell necklace.
“Hot damn.” Kate speaks my innermost thoughts aloud. “It’s like he somehow got even prettier. I can’t believe you slept withthat. I think I might actually hate you a little.”
“Don’t bother,” I murmur, though my idiotic brain insists on offering up delirious, rapturous memories of having him inside me. I shiver, then lock the images behind a closed door. “It was a one-time thing.”
Well, a two-time thing. In one night. But I don’t remind her.
The camera pans to the hostess, a naturally pretty, girl-next-door brunette named Desiree. She has a way of getting famous people to open up, disarming them as if she’s everyone’s best friend, until they end up confessing their deepest secrets and crying on camera. It’s practically a rite of passage for Hollywood’s elite—Oh, she went onCelebrity Confessionsand didn’t sob? She must be tough as nails.
“We’re here tonight with Grayson Drake, one of America’s most famous—or infamous, depending who you ask—photographers,” Desiree announces. “Many know him as the mountaineer who nearly died on Everest, or the host ofWorld Safari. But tonight, in what will be his first-ever televised interview, we’ll dig deeper, into the life and mind of a man who’s remained a mystery until now. Welcome to the confession booth, Grayson.”
He grins in a way that makes my stomach clamp around a kernel of heat. “Thanks. Glad to be here, Desiree.”
She starts mildly enough, leading him through questions about the avalanche and his eleven minutes spent buried in the snow. No surprise there, because she always starts gently. She boils her frogs slowly, heating the water by degrees, until it’s too late for them to jump out.
Soon enough, she steers the conversation toward a question that feels entirely natural, though I know she must have planned it long beforehand. “Tell us, Grayson. What would you consider your biggest regret in life?”
My entire body tenses. I know what his answer would’ve been three months ago, but by now, it might have changed.
“That,” he says, “is a very long story.”
“Which is exactly why we’re here,” Desiree croons.
His fingers come up to play with the puka shell, flicking it back and forth. “It has to do with a girl.”
“It always does, doesn’t it? Why don’t you tell us about her?”
Grayson casts Desiree a knowing look but doesn’t back away from the question. Not that I’d expect him to. Avoidance was always Michael’s forte, not his.
Still, I don’t quite expect what comes next. His eyes darken to emerald while his voice turns husky. And he tells the whole damn story. Just lays himself bare in front of the world.
He glides over some parts and embellishes others in such a way that no one will ever figure out who I am, but his massaging of the facts does nothing to obscure the underlying truth. He talks about me with reverence. With a tender adoration that nearly topples me.
It’s a story about a woman who swept him off his feet and shaped his life, about how she broke his heart and he deserved it. But he still wouldn’t trade that pain for anything, because it proves they’re still connected. That they always will be.
Halfway through, the unbelievable happens. Desiree reaches for the tissues universally reserved for her guests.
Grayson pauses, uncertain. He reaches over the tiny table between their chairs and pats her arm awkwardly. “Was it something I said?”
“It absolutely was,” she says with a tearful smile. “Although I think I speak for romantics everywhere when I say we all hope to be on the receiving end of thatsomething you said, someday. To be that precious to someone.”
His brows quirk. “That’s a good word, actually. Precious. That’s exactly what she is to me. No matter what went wrong, she’ll never be anything else.”
The feeling in my gut blossoms into an ache. I try to inhale against the pain, but I seem to have stopped breathing a long time ago.
“I have to ask, why now?” Desiree dabs at her somehow still-perfect makeup. “You’ve notoriously avoided interviews ever sinceNational Geographicfirst launched you into the public eye, so what’s changed?”
