Page 75 of Baxter's Right-Hand Man

My heart did a somersault, a triple flip, and fluttered in my chest like a flock of hummingbirds. I raked my teeth over my bottom lip and did my best to play it cool, but this felt so…momentous. So boyfriend-y.

This was a declaration of heartfelt affection, boyfriend style.

“Same.” I laced our fingers together and squeezed.

We held hands for a while and listened to the waves crashing in the distance.

After a few minutes, Pierce kissed my hand and kicked sand on my shoes.

I furrowed my brow and growled, which he seemed to find hilarious. I shoved his arm, pushing him sideways. Pierce dragged me with him, rolling over till he was on top. The blanket tangled between us and did nothing to shield me from the cold sand. I didn’t care, and that was more shocking than I could ever communicate. But being in Pierce’s arms, under him, surrounded by him was the best kind of distraction.

He pinned my hands next to my head and grinned down at me, his blue eyes alight with mischief. I pushed at his muscular chest like a mouse swatting a lion. Pierce dove into the sand dramatically as if he were being catapulted out of a plane. He rolled over and over, and sprang to his feet near the shoreline, dusted his hands off, and adjusted an imaginary tie before striding toward mea laBaxter.

It was goofy and over-the-top, and I couldn’t stop laughing. Just when I sobered up, he dropped to his knees beside me, captured my face in his strong hands and kissed me till I saw stars. Not one or two, but a whole constellation.

We parted with sappy smiles, then folded the blanket, gathered the thermos and our helmets, and trudged hand in hand to his motorcycle.

Life was strange but good. And I knew better than to question this kind of luck.

13

PIERCE

“Pierce! Pierce! Look this way!”

“Over here, Pierce!”

Cameras flashed, flooding my vision with white lights that left a halo in my periphery. It was annoying, not to mention headache inducing, but I grinned like a champ. This was just part of the job.

“What are you wearing tonight, Pierce?”

Seriously?

I ignored that reporter and kept walking, my pace a few feet in front of my date. That was per Janet’s instruction. Daphne didn’t have red-carpet experience and tended to answer every question thrown our way, and this wasn’t the venue to feed gossip mongers. This was the big show, baby. A sophisticated, polished, and elegant affair with an impressive history.

I’d always loved this. Once upon a time, I’d lived for it.

When I was a kid, the Academy Awards were a huge TV highlight for my mom and me. The rest of our family had the Super Bowl, we had this.

I took my passion for movies a bit more seriously than she did, though. I’d made a point to watch every film nominated in as many categories as possible, so on the big day, those wins and losses meant something to me. The yearA Beautiful Mindwon, I’d wanted to study math. The yearGladiatorwon, I’d wanted to jump into battle.

Even if I didn’t agree with the results, I loved the spectacle, glitz, and grandeur. In the farthest reaches of my mind, I’d wondered what it would be like to be in the room where it happened. And now I was.

It blew me away to think there were kids out there watching me, dreaming of the day they’d get their shot.

I could guaran-fucking-tee you they didn’t care who made my tux. Which was good since I had no idea anyway.

“Pierce, are you filming soon?” someone called.

“I am.”

Good talk.

I waved to the crowd screaming my name as I moved on. An official-looking woman wearing a glittery silver evening gown and a headset motioned for me to join her near the entrance, but someone else pulled me toward a familiar face on the sideline. I couldn’t place her, but I was pretty sure she was an actress in a popular kids’ series when I was growing up. She was obviously one of the premier reporters tonight. No doubt her interview was being televised live and with any luck, she wouldn’t ask about my wardrobe.

“Pierce, it’s so good to see you again!” she gushed.

“Thanks, it’s good to be here,” I replied with a lopsided grin.