Love in the Headlines: A Star-Crossed Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Love in the Headlines Series Book 1)

by Candace Knoebel

  “I don’t look like me.”

  Her face screwed up. “That’s the point. You look like a souped-up version of you. Prim 2.0.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the cashier, practically bouncing out of her boots. Whipped out her Mastercard before I had the chance to grab my wallet. “My treat,” she added with a nudge and a wink.

  She lived for this kind of stuff. That much was obvious.

  After paying, Poppy pulled me into a store I’d never think twice about entering. With mannequins dressed in next to nothing and loud, heavy-drummed music that threatened to burst my eardrums. She moved with purpose, weaving in and out of the racks with precision. Picked out a silver sequined dress that clung like a second skin. It didn’t have sleeves, and the bustline was so low, I feared my ladies would pop out if I merely sneezed.

  “Wait till he sees you in this. That woman he was with will be the last thing on his mind. Trust. You’ll rope him back in, write your piece, and fly off into the glittering sunset like the fucking unicorn that you are.” She stood behind me in front of a large, gilded mirror leaning against a back wall. “See?”

  I tried to see what she was seeing, but all I found was someone I didn’t recognize. I felt numb. Maybe even nervous. All my life, I’d prided myself on being true to me. I didn’t want to be this woman standing in front of the mirror. This woman who used sex appeal to strike back. Who used soft flesh instead of her strong mind.

  “But it isn’t me,” I said, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

  I could practically hear Poppy’s eyes rolling.

  “Says who?” She lifted my arm. “This is your arm, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And your feet and eyes and hair. It’s you, Prim. Your body inside those clothes. Your mind still inside your head.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. Glanced down at the silver sequins spreading dots of light across my skin.

  “Listen, you tried it your way. And, sure, it worked to an extent, but maybe you should give my way a try now. What do you have to lose?” Her long lashes batted in my direction, a look she knew I could never resist.

  “I guess it’s worth a shot …”

  Her lips widened with a winning smile. She grabbed my hands and then placed them on the sides of my boobs. “And here’s another piece of advice. You’ve got great hooters. Use them.” She imitated what she wanted me to do by pushing hers up for ample cleavage. “Like this. Put them on display. Lord knows there are women out there who’d kill for tatas like yours.”

  A flush tingled up the base of my neck, spreading across my cheeks.

  “Come on,” she said, pulling me back to the changing room. “Let’s go pay. We’ve got a man to catch.”

  ***

  I found myself pacing in her apartment a couple hours after we shopped, my stomach twisted in knots I feared would never come lose. A ding went off in my pocket, and the knots tightened even more.

  “He texted, Poppy,” I said as soon as I pulled my phone out and saw his name. “He wants to meet up. What do I say?”

  She took my phone from me. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  She handed it back to me. “You’re going to ghost him. And later, we’ll send him a text meant for a fictional someone else, talking about meeting up.”

  The waves in my stomach sloshed. “So, you want me to lie to make him jealous.”

  She grinned. “Now, you’re getting the hang of it.”

  She wasn’t kidding either.

  A few hours later, when it came time to send the bogus text, she took my phone and typed the fatal words. I knew she meant well, but even if Grayson really was playing games, it still felt wrong. Childish. And he’d see right through it.

  What did I get myself into?

  “How do you know he’ll even show?” I asked when she handed my phone back to me. I didn’t dare open the messages. Just the thought of the lie being on it made me want to toss it in the garbage. “He doesn’t like games. No one truly does.”

  “He’ll show. Trust me. Hook. Line. And sinker. You just wait.”

  The problem was, I had no other option than to wait.

  ***

  It had been nearly an hour since we left her place under the veil of the city lights. The night was unusually warm, like the breath from an opened oven door. It was a Friday, so the foot traffic was heavy, and I clung to Poppy’s side, wishing I’d had the gall to tell her no and just stay home.

  “Where are we headed?” I asked, stopping for a second to adjust the back of my heel. It dug into the sensitive flesh of my ankle like serrated teeth.

  “Risky Hearts. Finley’s bar.”

  I glanced up.

  The devil lived in her grin. “What? I can’t very well let you have all the fun. Besides, it’s time he gets a taste of his own medicine. Maybe then he’ll stop coming around.”

  She was a stride ahead of me, walking in heels like she’d been doing it all her life. She wore a form-fitting black dress that clung just above the knees and boasted a thigh-high slit I’d never dare to wear.

  Red heels and red lips. “A woman’s kill shot,” she’d called the pair.

  I fiddled with my glasses out of habit, though I wasn’t wearing them. Tonight, it was contacts.

  “Well, look who it is,” Fin called as we approached, a cigarette dangling off the edge of his mouth. “If I wasn’t sober, I’d swear you were a mirage.”

  I didn’t miss the tension that coiled through Poppy’s shoulders despite her efforts to hide it. “Finley.” The word was calm and cool, not anything like how she’d acted around him at the Laundromat.

  Music pulsed hard and heavy behind the front doors, as if the place were filled to the brim, on the verge of exploding.

  She strode up to him, slipping sensually out of her jacket, an extra sway to her hips I envied. I could never walk like that. Confident and demanding.

  Grabbing the edges of his black leather jacket, she tugged. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Finley pulled the half-smoked cigarette from his lips, drinking her in with familiarity and longing. The naked light from the neon sign above bathed his skin in red, turning his features devilish. “Oh, baby, but you knew I’d be here. I own the place.”

  She pulled him close, her leg lifting a fraction behind her. Licked the side of his face up to his ear and then bit his earlobe with a hard tug. He growled as her lips moved, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I stood awkwardly to the side, trying not to pry. All I could guess was, it was something profane based on the way his eyes widened and his lips crooked with a smirk.

  “Come on,” she said a moment later. I guessed she was speaking to me, although her eyes never left his. “Drinks are on him.”

  The next second, he pulled the doors wide open, the music from inside crashing out onto the streets. Faces spread smiles at the sight of Poppy. Bodies jumped and danced and moved throughout the tight space, all in sync with the energy. With the music. Some called out her name. Others watched the sway to her hips, pulled in by the magic that seemed to radiate off her. Intoxicating and alluring. I felt like a kitten compared to a lioness. Out of my league. Out of my element.

  She wormed her way between a group of suited men, who eagerly parted the moment they saw her, and leaned against the bar.

  I stayed pinned to her side, eyes cast downward.

  “Hey, Sammy!”

  A young man with cropped blond hair and a sharp jawline turned from the vast wall of liquor, a shiny bottle in hand. “Poppy!” he said, all smiles. “Long time no see.”

  “Eh … you know how it goes. Listen, Fin said to take care of us tonight.”

  A wicked curve tilted Sammy’s smile as he leaned in. “Oh, I bet he did.”

  She giggled. Laid a hand on his arm. “How about your specialty for me and my girl Prim?”

  He tossed me a knowing smirk. “Don’t let her pull you down the rabbit hole, Prim. She’s crazy.”

  Before he co
uld retreat, Poppy leaned across the bar and punched him in the arm.

  “Ow,” Sammy said, chuckling. He reached for two glasses and began making drinks, eyeing me every so often in such a way that made me fidgety.

  “He thinks you’re cute,” Poppy said.

  My eyes dipped down, fastening on the many scrapes left behind on the lacquered wood. “Please.”

  “I’m serious. He’s sweet.” Her grin turned impish. “He’d be a good hook-up for you. Break you in, if you know what I mean.”

  She moved her hand through the air as if she were smacking an ass, and I practically leaped toward her, pulling her arm down just to get her to stop.

  Heat blazed up the sides of my neck, catching fire to my cheeks. “Poppy. Really?”

  “Sorry.” Her hands shot up. “What? You can’t tell me he isn’t cute.”

  “That’s beside the point.”

  A second later, our drinks slid across the bar.

  When I grabbed mine, Sammy’s pinkie brushed over my fingers. “Drink it slow, beautiful. It’s potent.”

  I froze for a moment, and then turned and walked away as fast as I could. “Oh my God.”

  “Told you. You’re hot, Prim. Own it.”

  Own it. If only it were that easy.

  I followed her to the back of the bar to a corner booth lined with plush purple velvet. The lighting was dim, hues of purple and pink swaying across the walls. White neon lights with different sayings hung around the seating area, giving an ambience that fit well against the heady music.

  Once seated, Poppy lifted her drink. “Cheers to making Grayson Pierce look like a little bitch.” Her glass clinked against mine.

  “Cheers,” I added with heavy hesitation before taking a sip.

  Subtle notes of citrus and cream masked whatever alcohol was in the glass. Sammy was right; this drink was lethal. I took a large sip. I’d have to rely on its courage if I had a chance of getting through tonight.

  “Good, right?” Poppy said with a proud grin.

  “Better than good.” My voice fought to be heard over the loud music screaming notes of nineties nostalgia. I hid behind my drink. Warmth moved like a weight throughout my body, sinking into each of my limbs. “So, what now?”

  “We find you a guy.”

  For the next thirty minutes, we sat there, watching the front door. We tossed back fruity drinks that I was sure were more lethal than napalm. They stuck to my brain as I waited for Grayson’s smile to scramble my thoughts. I tried to mentally rehearse what I’d say to him if he showed. A few times, I came close to sneaking out before anything worse could happen, but it was as if Poppy could sense it because, every time, she’d grab my hand and tell me how fun it was to be out with me.

  And maybe after the first two drinks, I was starting to have a little fun too.

  Poppy scouted out two men to sit with us, who spent the better part of the next hour talking about themselves or trying to grope us. She swore we’d only need to use them to make Grayson think twice about his little post-interview outing. So, we laughed when we were supposed to laugh and found ways to finagle ourselves out of their grips whenever we needed to.

  As ridiculous as it felt, I didn’t care. I was numb, lulled by the sweet song of whatever spirits Sammy had put in my cup.

  When that horrid truth slammed against the back of my skull, I knew I needed to slow down.

  Somewhere in the midst of listening to football plays and how the size of a dick could be determined by the length of an index finger, I found my excuse to leave and made my way toward the bar in search of water. I felt lighter than normal as I worked through the crowd, turning down offers to dance along the way.

  “Hi.” I gave my attention to the bartender, who backtracked a step to greet me. “Can I get a water, please?”

  Within seconds, the water was passed across the bar, exchanged with a five-dollar bill. I didn’t hesitate to unscrew the lid and down it.

  “Hey,” a handsome man said beside me, a glass filled with amber liquid clutched in his hand. “That kind of night?”

  “Don’t even get me started.”

  His chuckle was warm, a slight smile forming on the side of his mouth.

  I caught sight of Poppy standing, eyes scanning the crowd for me while smacking one of the guy’s hands away. With a buoyant smile, I nodded at the man and made my way back to Dipshit One and Two. My feet felt like they were floating off the floor, as if my blood had been pumped full of helium.

  Jesus, what did Sammy put in those drinks?

  “Where’d you go?” she asked, but her words barely had time to sail my way when Dipshit One—the man assigned to me—decided to stand and grab me by the waist, pulling me against his side.

  “Hey. You’re sexy.” His breath reeked of liquor, souring my stomach.

  I leaned back with a wobbly smile and managed to break free from his grip while Dipshit Two made a move on Poppy.

  “Ew.” Poppy shoved the guy off with a palm to his forehead.

  Her eyes cast to where Finley stood behind the bar, watching her, as he had been all night. When they connected, Finley gave a shake of his head and then wandered off.

  “Why don’t you talk to him?” I said when I noticed her gaze drop.

  She turned her furrowed brows on me. “Because I don’t want to, okay?”

  “Poppy …”

  She held a hand up, shushing me. “We’re here for one reason and one reason only.”

  I glanced at the door. “And if he doesn’t show?”

  “He will.”

  A waitress stopped in front of Poppy with a tray of freshly made drinks.

  “Oh, thank God,” she said, grabbing them and handing me one. “Cheers,” she said, clanging her glass against mine before taking a healthy sip.

  “Cheers.” I counted the four already-empty glasses on the table and, with a resigned sigh, sipped from my cup that coated all my cares in giggle juice.

  “You’re a trip, you know that?” Poppy said as she tried to pry me off her lap an hour later.

  I wrapped my arms around her neck and squeezed her to me, feeling like a cage door had been opened, setting me free to roam in all the truths I hid within.

  “And apparently, a very lovey drunk.”

  “I’m so glad I met you, Pop. Can I call you Pop?”

  She laughed and hugged me back. “I love you, Prim, but that’s gonna be a hard no.”

  “I’m sorry.” I covered my mouth and hiccuped. Laughed some more. “No. You know what? I’m not sorry.”

  Poppy’s brows dipped.

  “Grayson says I shouldn’t say sorry so much,” I said, waving my finger.

  “He’s right. You shouldn’t.”

  “I just feel so”—my hands shot into the air—“free!”

  Poppy pulled my hands down to my lap. “Okay, wildling.” Her giggle was contagious. “Why don’t we get some water and dance a little? Sweat some of that alcohol out.”

  “Water,” I said with a swoon. “Did you know it takes about twenty gallons to produce a pint of beer? Crazy, right?”

  “Just mad. Where’d you learn that?”

  “At a brewery I toured with my dad.”

  “Hmm … cool.” A second later, her eyes went wide enough to pop out. Her hand found me, tugging. Slapping. “He’s here! Look!”

  I followed the direction of her gaze. There Grayson was, making his way through the crowd, toward the bar. It was as if a pin had been taken to my buzz, popping it, the slow whizzing of air draining from my veins. He wore his classic denim jeans and white T-shirt that made any woman’s mouth water. He was a dream. A vision. A lip-biting—

  And then I remembered the whole reason I was there.

  Fire rose with a vengeance in my brain. My thoughts were almost too big, fuzzy, and dulled by all the alcohol.

  “Remember that vibe I told you about?” Poppy said, already pushing me and Dipshit One forward. “The I don’t need you vibe? It’s go time.”

 
I nodded as if I understood exactly what she meant. As if every fiber in my being wasn’t buzzing with electricity at the sight of him. As if my eyes weren’t trying to seek him out against my will.

  “Come on, baby,” Dipshit One said. He took me by the hand and had me on the floor before I could protest.

  He tried to pull me close, but I swatted at his hands, plastering the same smile I’d seen Poppy use earlier. When he tried again, laughing, I took his offered hand despite the chill to my skin. I knew he was already three sheets to the wind. The touchy-feely type. Every few seconds, I had to move his hand from my ass where it’d kept slithering like a snake to its prey.

  “You should give my way a try now. What do you have to lose?” I heard Poppy’s words swim through my mind. Found her encouraging gaze across the dance floor, urging me on. I succumbed to it. Drifted away.

  Closing my eyes, I imagined I was dancing alone in my room, like I enjoyed doing. My hands wove through my hair. Sweat beaded along my skin. For a moment, everything disappeared, and it was just the music and me. My hands and my body.

  And then his hand slid over my shoulder. The smallest of touches that had the impact of a grenade.

  I spun so quickly, I collided into his arms.

  “Hey,” Grayson said, side-eyeing Dipshit One, who was still trying to grope me. “Thought I’d bump into you here.”

  “I kind of made it easy for you with that text, didn’t I?”

  His lips parted, but before he could speak, I was pulled away.

  “Hey, can you not—” Grayson started to say but was quickly cut off.

  “Who’s this?” Dipshit One asked, wedging an arm between us.

  “Name’s Grayson.” Grayson offered a hand with a smile as tight as a tightrope. He had somehow moved between me and Dipshit One, completely shielding me from him. Keeping his groping hands far out of range. “And you are?”

  “Brian.”

  So, that’s his name.

  Brian stared at Grayson for a moment as the flash of a camera went off nearby, and then, with his finger in the air, he said, “Wait a minute. You’re Grayson Pierce. Dude!” He turned and waved his friend over. “You know, I did a little modeling myself.”