Page 36 of Grip Me Tight
Tanner looks away, towards the fireplace. “But how do you know?”
“I’ve met them, Tanner.” He turns to look at me. “Look, I know you think this is probably weird, but I do a lot of work with the American Transplant Foundation and Donate Life America and a number of other organizations. I’ve actually met my donor family.”
“You have?” He turns to me now, his face pale.
“I have and they’re lovely, amazing people. Look, I can tell this is freaking you out and you’ve known me forever, so can you imagine how it is for people who don’t know me? Illness freaks people out. Can we stop talking about it?” I pick up my tablet and open Instagram, turning it to show him. “I need to work.” I set up my stuff on the coffee table. “If security isn’t taking me back to my room any time soon, I’ll have some pizza and a spinach salad. Perrier with lime, but any sparkling water will do.”
I don’t hear any movement, so I glance up beneath my lashes. Tanner’s standing there, mouth open.
“Or you can order whatever and I’ll just head back to my room.”
Tanner walks over to the phone by the dining room table. “Yes, this is Mr. Ironwood.”
A snort escapes me, and Tanner sends me a withering look before turning to give the order to concierge. I get back to my work, opening the photos Emil sent to the shared portal. I’m putting together captions and blurbs when I get a notification on a tag for Ajax over onMidnight Blind.I head to the famous Instagram account and see a blind post from “Anon Please” which notes Ajax seeing a woman being abused in the audience of the show tonight and jumping off the stage to help. Vera’s fast.
I quickly put together some backstage pics of the guys heading down the corridor to the stage, including one that clearly shows the bottle of water in Ajax’s hand, and not a bottle of tequila. I send a quick text through to Vera who confirms that there’s no conflict with product deals if we use the shot with the label exposed and then send the photo to Emil to make it social-worthy.Maybe black and white?
“Food will be here soon.”
“Thanks, Mr.Ironwood.” I shake my head, smiling at his scowl.
“I don’t pick the names the rooms are under.”
“Uh-huh. Are they like code names?” I giggle. “Like navy seals?” I think about it for a minute. “Who’s Noah? Maverick or Goose?”
“Your weird obsession with eighties movies is showing. And those guys were fighter pilots, not navy seals.”
“Eighties movies were the best. Come on, I don’t believe Noah hasn’t used something from that movie.”
Tanner smirks and rubs the back of his neck. “He might have checked in under the name Pete Mitchell a time or two.”
“Of course. Tom Cruise’s character.” My breath catches as Tanner sits on the couch beside me. Way too close.
“What’s the game plan with Jax?” he asks, crowding me as he leans over to look at the tablet. Texts are coming in fast and furious from Vera as we go back and forth on the post mock-ups I’ve sent her. A text pops in from Emil.
Great work, New Girl. Need food. Want to come with?
Tanner picks up my phone. “What’s your passcode?”
“Tanner. Put my phone down.” I suck in my lips. “Now, please.”
He bumps his shoulder to mine. “Aren’t you going to respond to him?”
I edge away. “Yes, the point being thatIwill respond to him.” I aim a thumb at my chest. “Don’t you have something else to do? Groupies to chase or something?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t believe everything you hear about my activities.”
I toss him a look. “Oh, sure. You hole up in you room doing push-ups while Noah and the guys go party. You’re forgetting what I can do on social media. Noah might tell Dad you’re an old man, but there are so many pictures and stories of you with hot chicks everywhere.”
“Hot chicks?” He smirks. “I knew you were keeping tabs on me.”
I gather my things, moving them out of the way and stand, walking to the dining room table. I lift one of the glass domes and pick up some perfectly cubed cheese. Mmm. I am hungrier than I thought. I swipe my phone and re-read Emil’s text.
I should go hang out with him and the other people I’m working with and not isolate myself with the band. I glance up. Tanner’s gaze is on my phone. “Hey, it’s nice of you to stay in and order for me, but you don’t have to hang out with me. Can’t one of the guards escort me downstairs?”
“You want to go with Emil?” His voice is quiet.
There’s a tension following his question and I don’t know what’s driving it. Does he want me to stay? Why? My order won’t go to waste and he said himself there can be nothing between us after the other night.
