Page 53 of PR Stunt

I sigh, reluctantly making my way to the sofa and settling beside Anna. Grayson takes the accent chair across from us, the piece of furniture practically swallowed by his frame, while Miranda claims the other couch.

Still avoiding his gaze, I focus on Anna instead. “Alright, what’s so important that it required everyone to be in my living room before I’ve even finished my first cup of coffee?”

Anna clasps her hands together, her expression blank. “Okay, so it’s good that you’re sitting down.”

I tense immediately. That is never a good sign.

Anna leans forward, eyes alight with something that immediately puts me on edge. “So, you know that fundraiser you went to?”

“Yes,” I respond cautiously. “The very one where you fed me to the wolves and sat me next to…” I gesture vaguely in Grayson’s direction without looking at him, searching for the right word. Nuisance. Thorn in my side. Before I settle on one, a quiet chuckle rumbles from him.

“I’m touched you think so highly of me.”

Still avoiding him, Anna barrels on. “Well, about that… Do you remember when you picked up Grayson’s bidding paddle, and he won the—”

“The Celebrity Mud Race Challenge,” I finish.

The memory slides into place, and satisfaction curls in my chest. Still pleased with myself, I lift my chin, a small smirk forming as I lightly flip my hair over my shoulder. “One of my finer moments,” I say, relishing it.

Grayson lets out another quiet laugh, and this time, I almost look at him.

Miranda, who’s been silent up until now, finally pipes up, her tone light but pointed. “Yes, well, your finer moment just so happens to have consequences.”

I falter. “What kind of consequences?”

She exhales, crossing one leg over the other. “The kind where Grayson is now officially signed up for the Celebrity Mud Race Challenge.”

My morning does a full 180. The exhaustion, the irritation, the lingering embarrassment from my stupid dream… All of it vanishes in an instant, replaced by pure, unfiltered delight. I finally look at Grayson, my lips curving into a slow, satisfied smile. I give him a look that says, Sucks to suck.

Oh, this is too good.

Grayson Cole. Hollywood’s notorious bad boy. Forced to crawl through mud and scurry around like a helpless little worm, on television no less. I can practically taste the victory.

I sigh happily. “Consequence? More like divine justice.”

Grayson, to his credit, doesn’t react, just watches me with that unreadable expression of his. I can feel the satisfaction rolling off me in waves.

“I can’t wait to watch,” I continue, stretching out my legs. “Might even throw a little viewing party. Big screen, popcorn, front-row seats to Grayson Cole eating shit in mud? Now that’s entertainment.”

In my mind, I’m already drafting the text to Juno. Live footage of Grayson suffering. The team would be all in. We’d make a whole night of it.

The satisfaction is short-lived because Anna clears her throat. “Well, that’s the thing…”

Grayson leans forward in his chair, forearms resting on his knees. His eyes are gleaming now. I blink, suddenly on edge. Where was that look earlier?

“Anna,” he drawls, tilting his head. “May I step in? I wouldn’t want to miss the look on Charlie’s face when she hears the news.”

“What are you talking about?” I frown.

Grayson’s smile is pure arrogance. “It’s teams of two.”

“Okay? So?”

Anna chimes in, ever so helpful. “It’s coed.”

I roll my eyes. “Again, so? It’s not like you don’t have an endless list of women who’d, shockingly, volunteer to roll around in the mud for you. I wouldn’t put it past them.” I cross my arms. “Still not seeing how any of this involves me.”

Grayson leans back in his chair, all ease, all confidence. Then he drops the bomb. “It’s you and me, sweetheart. Getting dirty.”