Page 68 of Forced Proximity

I polish off the rest of the green drink. ‘That day, how did you get me to drink the juice? I have very little memory.’

He wipes up a drop on the counter with a napkin, and I’m pretty sure he’s avoiding my eyes. ‘Um, liquid CPR? Is that a term?’

Is he blushing? ‘What does that mean?’

‘I, uh.’ He clears his throat. ‘I put it in my mouth, and then, ah … transferred it to your mouth.’

He what? All color is absolutely draining from my face.

‘I’m sorry, Doc, that sounds stupid invasive.’ He rubs the back of his neck. ‘I was going to say something, but didn’t know if I should, or if you’d feel weird about it … but … well, I kept trying to make you drink it and you were choking, and I panicked, and I didn’t have a straw, and—’

‘It’s totally fine.’ I stare at my laptop as a wave of emotion engulfs me. Part disappointment that I don’t remember his beautiful mouth on mine. Part mortified that I was that severely incapacitated. Part terrified that if he wasn’t there I could’ve died.

But the other, overpowering rush comes from being taken care of. By him. This emotion goes against everything I believe about myself as a person – the strong one, the tough one, the one who doesn’t want coddling. And yet, it feels … nice.

‘Thank you,’ I finally say. ‘That was really smart. I don’t know what to say.’

He grabs our glasses from the counter and brings them to the sink. ‘Don’t worry about saying anything. I would’ve done it for anyone.’

I cock an eyebrow. ‘Even sunglasses man?’

He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Nope, sorry, not him.’

Chapter 32

Lexi

By my third day back, everything settles into a routine. After Zane told me Ivy was fired for illegally obtaining a director’s address, I spend an extraordinary amount of time reviewing and re-reviewing our notes on her. So far, we’re coming up empty, but I’m not crossing her off the suspect list.

Today’s Sunday – game day – and Justin invited a group over to watch. Jack completed the initial guest vetting on Friday, and I finalized my secondary vetting yesterday. But this morning, I woke up early, uneasy with so many people at Justin’s house, and triple vetted every guest in the company database.

As of now, though, we’re still not any closer to finding out who the hell this stalker is, and the studio and Anthony are both refusing to bring in the feds. It doesn’t make sense. I pull up to the security gate in Justin’s neighborhood. ‘Morning,’ I say.

The security guard taps into his digital clipboard. ‘Morning, Doc.’

‘Just a reminder that Mr Greenwood is expecting thirty-four, not thirty-six guests this afternoon. Two people dropped off the list. I emailed it to you but wanted to double check that it arrived,’ I say, thumbing my sunglasses back up my nose. ‘I know you all are fantastic at your job but want to remind you that there are zero exceptions for anyone not passing the ID check.’

‘Yep, it’s under control.’ The guard nods. ‘We’ll call if any issues come up.’

I’m hearing his tone loud and clear, but I don’t care that they think I’m overbearing. Something’s in the air, and it’s making me itchy. I head up Justin’s long, circular driveway, mentally going through my checklist for the party tonight when I slam on the brakes. What the … I hop out of the Jeep for a closer look.

A dead bunny. Odd. No track marks like an animal brought it there, no indication that it was hit by a car. It looks placed there. I sweep my gaze across the lush green yard and down the driveway. It’s strange, for sure, but not out of the realm of possibility with all the coyotes in the area. I jot a note and continue to the house.

The moment I open the door, a mushroom cloud of fried food, garlic and bacon wafts to my nose. ‘Whoa, it smells good in here,’ I say as Justin saunters by wearing his Seattle Seahawks jersey. Caterers scatter the area, neatly displaying food on the massive dining table in the adjoining space. ‘There’s less than forty people on the list. You could feed an entire neighborhood with all this food.’

‘Trust me. They’ll eat it. Have you ever been to a party where half the guests are former football players? They’ll scarf this down and probably stop at In-N-Out Burger on the way home.’ His smile reaches his eyes, and he motions for me to join him at the table. ‘Look at this stuff. An entire fleet of chicken wings. Mini chicken and waffles. Potato skins that look like footballs. I mean, come on, am I right?’

‘Um, aren’t you part of the Hollywood elite?’ I say with a laugh, and drop my stuff at the table. ‘Don’t you have this on every movie set?’

‘You kidding me?’ He crunches into a potato skin. ‘We always have random shit like beluga or duck confit. Who likes that crap? But potato skins with prosciutto and blue cheese? Now that I can get behind.’

I really shouldn’t think of Justin as adorable. He’s a six-three, steel wall of muscles, man. But him and food, especially food like this, I’m not sure how else to describe him. He’s smiling so much while eating, I’m worried he’s gonna choke. ‘Hey, just real quick, I gave the updated guest list to the gate security. Remember, we’re not making any exceptions, even for you, no matter how much you beg.’

‘Yes, yes. It’s all good. Relax, okay?’

Ugh. I hate when he says that.

‘Oh, heads up, I changed my mind last night and am allowing alcohol here today.’ He snatches a chocolate-covered strawberry with vanilla drizzle off the plate and pops it in his mouth. ‘But you and Jack pre-vetted the list. Everyone’s on high alert, which means I don’t need to worry, you don’t need to worry and we both get to have some fun.’