High Risk (Point of No Return Book 1)

by Brenna Aubrey

  I didn’t pull back from her until I heard the doorknob rattle when Victoria reentered the room. My arms went slack, and Gray was breathing hard, looking at me wide-eyed. But she didn’t step away.

  The moment stretched between us, and when Victoria finally looked up from her phone, she frowned at us. “You okay in here? Anything wrong?”

  I drew back slightly, aware of the buzzing static of some other energy present in the room—gamma rays and dangerous radiation from my imaginary solar flare, no doubt. Through a fog, I blinked, stunned that no one could see it or sense it but me.

  Gray blinked heavily as if trying to pull herself together. She turned partly away from me, her thin shoulders hunching slightly with self-consciousness.

  I cleared my throat, aware that my own heartbeat was galloping and my body had begun reacting to that anything-but-ordinary kiss. “Oh, we were—ah—settling a disagreement, that’s all.” Victoria’s elegant eyebrows arched to ask the question she didn’t bother to voice. I flicked a look at Gray, who was staring at the ground, her face sunburn-red. “She was saying that there was no way I could pull off kissing for the cameras—”

  “I said it wasn’t necessary,” Gray protested.

  “You said it would be unconvincing,” I fired back. “So I was proving you wrong. I think I succeeded.”

  Victoria frowned and shook her head, likely choosing not to pursue the subject. She’d already begun fiddling with her phone again immediately.

  But for a slight flush of pink, Gray appeared unaffected, her features placid. When she took a step back, I instinctively grabbed her hand before realizing exactly what I was doing.

  She froze as I thought quickly. Almost as an afterthought, I brought her palm up and inspected it.

  She’d covered her cut with a large square bandage that I’d given her the night before.

  “I’d like to have a look at this,” I said. “So I can see how it’s healing.”

  She pulled back the bandage, and I bent over her hand, getting a good look at the pink-red wound that, fortunately, did not appear to be infective. Before replacing the bandage, I made sure to lean close, running my thumb over her palm. I must have hit a tender spot because she flinched, yanking her hand back.

  “Did that hurt? I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  She looked away with those same stained cheeks. So innocent and so damn sexy in her own way. Her eyes dropped to the floor, but she didn’t reply.

  Before I had a chance to follow up, Victoria poked her phone in my face, to show me how convincing our pseudokissing pictures were. But all I could think of was how good it had felt to do the real thing. There was something about that pink staining Gray’s cheeks. The way, in the photos, that she had her hands on my chest.

  And I remembered how she’d grasped onto my shirt while we were kissing, the cloth bunched up in her fists. Like she was holding on for dear life right up until the second before she’d pushed me away.

  It caused an unfamiliar tightness in the back of my throat and an all too familiar ache in my cock. Still, it was different from that typical surge of empty lust.

  There was something else I dare not question. An undiscovered territory fraught with peril.

  “See?” Victoria beamed. “If you can make a fake almost-kiss look this convincing on the fly with Gray, think about what you can do in front of the press with a real professional actress.” Victoria was grinning from ear to ear with glee, downright convinced that her scheme was going to work—and take the media by storm.

  But I knew that no kiss I’d share with a beautiful Hollywood starlet would compare to the one I’d shared with Gray right here in my living room. I’d kissed more than enough women before to know what the real deal was.

  What the…what the hell was that all about?

  And her…

  Gray had crossed the room, keeping her back to me, flipping idly through pages on a notepad. She hadn’t said a word, but the back of her neck was still flushed that becoming pink. My eyes drifted down her body again, wondering why, just why, this woman was ensnaring my thoughts and attention so thoroughly. She was the complete opposite of my usual. I wanted to pull that ill-fitting T-shirt off of her and touch her everywhere underneath, sure. I definitely wanted to know if her skin felt as soft as it looked.

  But there was something else. I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know why she was so interested in space yet had decided to study psychology instead. I wanted to know about her struggles—health struggles, among them—but also her triumphs.

  I’d been collecting facts about her for the past two days, and they’d only served to intrigue me enough to want more. She loved nerdy sci-fi and fantasy books. She knew a lot about space flight and the history of the space program. And those endearing things—carrying a towel for Towel Day, lining up pens and paper pads like soldiers in an army, or naming the growling in her stomach after a famous dragon.

  I pushed those confused thoughts of her away for the moment, frustrated. Turning to gaze out the window, I waited while Victoria emailed some of the photos to her assistant for “reference”—whatever that meant.

  Gray seemed to be avoiding me. Maybe this awkwardness would encourage her to run along after the meeting and not come back. I still hadn’t figured out how I’d get rid of her as my houseguest.

  And strangely, part of me felt like keeping her around.

  I hadn’t been staring out that window long before a sporty convertible Mini Cooper with the top down pulled in. It was painted bright pink, and two girls wearing gigantic designer shades sat in the front seat.

  I recognized the driver as she stepped out, miles of bare leg from her heels to the edge of her Daisy Dukes, as Keely, a fetchingly attractive redhead. Exactly my type.

  Victoria let out a little shriek and laid down her phone to go meet them outside. I turned to Gray, who continued to read her notes.

  “So,” I said, clearing my throat to get her attention. “Is everything okay?”

  She spun, almost startled. “What?” she croaked.

  I gestured to where we’d been standing when we’d kissed. “You’ve sufficiently recovered?”

  She shrugged—a very exaggerated gesture—and very obviously unnatural. As if she really wanted to make sure I knew she didn’t care about the whole thing. It wasn’t one-tenth as convincing as that kiss had been.

  She looked so fresh, young, innocent. I wondered how the hell she knew how to kiss like a siren.

  She sent me a glance out of the corner of her eye—probably to check and see if I was teasing her. Her back stiffened. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Our gazes met, and that warm feeling from the day before washed over me. I was going to hell already anyway, so why not take a few swipes at the pure little Saint Angharad Grace of the Holy Barretts?

  “I might need to go over the finer points of all that later.”

  Her dark brows furrowed. “The finer points of what?”

  “That kiss. I may need a few…” I gestured with my hand in a rolling motion. “Repeat performances. To practice nuance. Purely for research, of course.”

  A moment later, the three women walked through the front door, and Gray had no chance to reply.

  It was hard, really hard, not to laugh at the perplexed look on her face, her mouth slightly agape. But as much fun as it was to tease her, I wanted to kiss her again more.

  No contest whatsoever.

  Victoria was making introductions. Keely gave a high-pitched squeal as she turned to me. She trotted up, throwing her arms around my neck and kicking up a leg behind her as she kissed me on the cheek.

  “Commander Tyler! My favorite astronaut.”

  Did she know any others?

  “Hello, Ms. Dawson.”

  She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Call me Keely, please. We’re going to be kissing each other in front of cameras, after all.”

  I smiled but hid what I was thinking with my usual expertise. If only there were a way to
get that cute psychologist to play the part instead. This bizarre little project could take on whole new levels of interesting.

  “Then you should call me Ty like everyone else does.”

  “Deal,” Keely said with a grin.

  “Let’s get started, shall we?” Victoria said, plastering on her widest smile. “Commander Tyler, have you met Sharon, Keely’s best friend and assistant?”

  I turned to Keely’s plain and rather dour friend who ran her agenda like a drill sergeant. “We’ve met. Good to see you again.” The woman, unshockingly, did not respond.

  Victoria concluded by introducing the two women to Gray, who quietly but graciously shook their hands. Then at Victoria’s instruction, we all took seats and proceeded to go over her asinine outline.

  I tried hard to bite my tongue like a good little astronaut. I’d been through enough Monday morning Astronaut Office meetings at NASA to be an expert at it.

  “What’s this event?” Keely’s assistant asked, pointing at the calendar. “Next week—

  Make-A-Wish Foundation? Keely has an engagement then. Could we reschedule?”

  Victoria’s penciled brows pinched together. “There is press involved in that one, but I can see—”

  “No,” Gray interrupted, and everyone’s heads turned in her direction. She straightened her spine and raised her chin. “That one is high priority. He can’t reschedule, nor can the sick little boy who is involved. It’s not some random event. It’s very important. He’s been waiting months to meet Commander Tyler.”

  “Okay,” said Keely, turning to Sharon. “Contact my publicist and get my event changed.”

  That perma-pink on Gray’s cheeks was now deepening to a more intense shade of red. At first, I was puzzled by why this event had stirred such passion. Then I remembered her own health challenges—very likely springing from a childhood illness. If I were a betting man, I’d say that scar had come from open heart surgery—a surgery that had come at the end of a sickly childhood.

  All the more reason she identified with a sick child on the Make-A-Wish Foundation list.

  “I agree,” I chimed in. “I’ve done a few Make-A-Wish events already, and the top priority is the child. This one has been scheduled for months. I make it work with my schedule where I can.” Even though—goddammit all—this one was in Houston, the last city I wanted to be in these days.

  Keely smiled. “I can go to the Make-A-Wish thingy with you and meet the little boy. It’s a good cause.”

  Victoria tore her sharp gaze from Gray to look at me. “Well, to be fair, he’s there to meet Commander Tyler, tour the Johnson Space Center with him, and then ride in the Zero Grav Experience.”

  Keely drew back. “What the heck is that? A simulator?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it simulates zero gravity, like in space.”

  “Fun! I bet he’ll love that.” Keely laughed and threw me a flirty look, batting her eyes.

  Uh oh. As gorgeous as Keely was, I did not want this girl to get the wrong idea that this might be anything more than exactly what we’d signed up for—fake playacting, photo ops and public drama. Nothing more. Certainly not anything real.

  I didn’t do real. Ever.

  My eyes drifted inexplicably to Gray, who was scribbling more notes on her legal pad with a pencil.

  I’d have to keep a handle on the Keely situation. Though it was strange how I didn’t even question why it was not okay to get with the hot and flirty actress, but it was more than okay to fantasize about the quiet but fetching girl next door.

  I studied her as Gray watched Keely over her notepad, chewing on her lip. The ridges above her top lip were prominent, her introspection half -hidden by the thick frames of her glasses.

  Gray was perky and a little tomboyish. With a heavy dash of college nerd. But damned if I didn’t find that combo sexy as hell. And surprising enough to me to cause me to marvel at it every time.

  It was a quiet, understated…unawakened sort of way. The way that made it crystal clear that I wanted to be the one to awaken her. All of her.

  Awaken her in ways she didn’t even realize had been sleeping.

  That thought made my blood burn, and I had to force myself to stop thinking about it and focus on this goddamn snooze of a meeting. But if I could deal with twelve-hour days filled with tedious sims or even isolation testing, then I could survive this. Hollywood farce and all.

  Chapter 10

  Gray

  The meeting broke up, and Victoria, Keely and her assistant eventually gathered their things. We aligned our calendars for the first photo op and public date when we would leak the “exciting new love story” in a few days.

  “Gray, Tolan said you’re staying here for the next little while?” Victoria asked, flicking a long look at Ty. I tried to act like I hadn’t been expecting her question. Victoria and I had already discussed the entire thing in texts the night before, so this conversation was for his benefit.

  For his part, he didn’t even react. No protest, no eye roll. Nada. Well, that was a good sign. I turned back to Victoria. “Yeah, I’m going to be Commander Tyler’s assistant and, you know, keep things running smoothly from here. I’ll be your point person too.” There was no reason to go into the details about the mess I’d found here yesterday—sex in the other room, vodka in the afternoon, and a belligerent jackass astronaut. I was willing to start off on a new foot today if he was.

  Victoria nodded and smiled. “Gotcha. Thank you. I have so much going on with this launch at Vandenberg and then the XPAC announcement event that I can barely squeeze this in. So, I might be the mastermind, but you’re the one getting it all done.”

  I smiled and tried hard not to look at Ty, whose stare I could feel irradiating my skin at 1,000 degrees Celsius. I was steel. I was frost.

  However, when Victoria and Keely left, I immediately fled to the bathroom down the hall from the room I’d slept in the night before.

  And no, not because I had to go.

  I closed my eyes, splashing cold water on my face and patting it dry with my trusty towel. Then I stared at myself in the mirror, noting that my cheeks were still flushed from that encounter in the living room with Ty an hour before.

  I hadn’t stopped thinking about it.

  My mind spun, caught in a whirlpool—no, a maelstrom—a swirling current of overpowering force centering around one locus.

  That kiss. That goddamn kiss.

  If thunder had a taste and a texture, they would be that kiss.

  He’d pulled me against him, and I’d felt that hard body—so unyielding and yet, ultimately responsive to mine. Or maybe I’d imagined that tremor—like he was holding back from unleashing its full power. Like a rocket pinned against the launchpad before blowing its bolts and pounding its thrust against the ground in order to propel it skyward at a speed faster than that of a bullet leaving a gun.

  Ty’s body had felt like that as he kissed me. Like he was holding himself back. And the only thing I could think of right now was—if that was holding back, what would the real thing have felt like? The thought of it left my throat dry.

  A rocket burns at 3,000 degrees Celsius, and I was certain his kiss could have equaled that temperature. Easily.

  My eyes drifted half closed, and I was scorched by the memory of each detail. With every movement of his lips and the tip of his tongue, which had extended just enough as if he was tasting me before being pulled back under that intense hold of control. But that flicker, that taste had permanently changed something inside of me. As if it had caused a chemical reaction—much like that of rocket fuel when it propelled a rocket upward.

  And chemical reactions could not be reversed. The change they wrought was permanent.

  And the way my stomach had bottomed out the moment his tongue had slipped through his lips to touch mine on a clandestine spy mission of its own. As if I might not detect what he was doing. Let me take you to the Moon, baby girl, he’d whispered in that deep, sexy voice of his. The line had been
cheesy and he’d clearly been joking, but with that kiss, he’d practically done just that.

  And then that look in his eyes when he’d pulled away. It had flashed in an instant and vanished—raw hunger.

  It had kept me from speaking—or even breathing—for the minutes afterward. I’d had to turn away to hide the shock that was all over my face.

  And minutes later, I’d been rankling in the corner while Keely flirted with him. Ugh. Him and his stupid gorgeous looks. He was a magnet for the male-loving gaze. And not only mine.

  But I reminded myself of the importance of this situation. I needed to keep this professional for so many reasons. For the most important reasons. Wrangle him. Keep him on the straight and narrow and get him to make the XPAC look good, exciting, squeaky clean, and yeah—maybe a little sexy.

  In recent years, NASA had made going to space look anything but sexy. But we needed a little of that appeal. I hadn’t been as willing to admit it in the meeting yesterday in front of my dad, but we needed Tyler badly for this. And damn, but we needed him to cooperate.

  Which probably meant I’d have to start fighting off the women who’d gravitate toward him. But alas, not Keely. If something flared up there, then I’d have to stand back and let it happen, and hope it didn’t end badly.

  Did every one of them want to jump his bones—even if they didn’t particularly like him? I certainly wasn’t that type, but he was having a seriously profound effect on me. My head felt light, and there was a buzzing near my ears, bowled over as I was by this realization. I am steel. I am stone.

  After talking myself down, I resolved to make a quick trip home to get my things. I lived about forty-five minutes away in Long Beach, in my own little one-bedroom condo not far from the university there. It would take me several hours to get there, get my stuff packed up and loaded in my car, and return. Hopefully, I’d be able to trust him alone for those few hours.