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Chapter 20
"All right, damage control."
Cory paced in front of us like a caged cat, back and forth in front of the couch where Brandon and I sat together, our knees touching and heads bent like derelict students. After being lugged out of bed at seven a.m. on a Sunday to listen to the guy berate us, I was really starting to hate that Cory knew the security code to our apartment.
"I guess we got sent to the principal's office," Brandon said with an impish smile at me.
I grinned back, and Brandon squeezed my hand just as Cory whirled around at us so fast his thick red tie hit him in the face.
"Oh, you got jokes," he said as he batted the fabric away. "It might seem funny right now, but your numbers just took a goddamn nose dive during the last twenty-four hours. Did you know there's a video? This isn't some fuckin' joke, man. You can't go assaulting members of the fuckin' press!"
"Come on, Cory, you weren't there," Brandon protested lightly. "He was tabloid paparazzi at best, not exactly the New York Times or anything. And I hardly assaulted him. If anything, he assaulted Skylar."
"You think that matters?" Cory exploded. "You and the Little fuckin' Mermaid over here were caught on tape pushing a paparazzo, and you think it matters which fuckin' publication he works for? You think it matters that he grabbed her? They're the ones with the cameras, Brandon, not you!"
I leaned back as a few droplets of spit launched through the air.
"Cory," Brandon barked.
"It's okay," I said. "I'm actually impressed he knows the Disney canon that well. You got a thing for Ariel, Cory?"
Brandon chuckled, and Cory shot me another death glare. I shrugged.
"Okay, okay, we get it," Brandon said. "But how does it not matter that the guy grabbed Skylar first? What was I supposed to do, sit back like a chump?"
"You're supposed to let the team of fuckin' gorillas you hired do their fuckin' jobs, not sit on their asses one-hundred-and-fifty fuckin' miles away from you!" Cory exploded. "Jesus Christ, Brandon! I swear to God, sometimes I really do think you're trying to sabotage this whole fuckin' operation!"
Then Cory turned on his heel and headed toward the foyer, blowing past the elevators and stopping at the stairwell door. "I'm going to cool the fuck off," he said when he got to the door.
"But you just got here," I said over the sofa.
Beside me, Brandon snickered. Apparently being treated like naughty high schoolers made both of us act like them.
"Yeah, get your giggles out now," Cory snapped. "Thirty minutes. And when I get back with Hope and Omar, we're going to strategize, goddammit. And you two are going to fuckin' listen." And with another long stream of profanity, Cory blew out of the room.
Brandon and I blinked at each other for a few seconds, then we both burst out into laughter together.
"Come here," he said in between chuckles. "I think we just gave Cory a heart attack."
"Oh my God, did you see how his eyes were bulging out of his head?" I said as I wiped tears out of my eyes.
Brandon's chest vibrated as he pulled me against him. Then he tipped my head up to his and pulled me close for a long, thorough kiss. When he was finished, no one was laughing anymore.
"I'm sorry," he said as he brushed his nose back and forth against mine. His thumb lightly stroked my cheek.
I pushed up to kiss him again. "It wasn't your fault."
"No," he agreed, "but I'm still sorry."
He stood up, pulling me with him, watching appreciatively as I adjusted the top of my leggings.
"Damn," he said regretfully. "Those...are really working for you."
I raised a playful brow and cocked a hip out. "You think so?"
He chewed his lip, then tore his gaze away from my legs. "Aaah, I really wish I could take advantage of you right now and make yesterday disappear."
"Stop," I said. "It wasn't all bad."
