"Money, Money, Money" [2] G. Hawthorne

27 - hot tub make-out and very intense poker

"What are you doing here?" Grayson asked me from the hot tub.

"What does it look like?" I replied, getting in with him.

He didn't move.

"What's been on your mind?" I asked him.

"You."

I was slightly taken aback but then said.

"You've been on my mind too."

"Kayla you need to let me explain, please."

I sighed.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You can trust this."

He pulled my face in to kiss me and I didn't resist.

We pulled away after a minute

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"The ring." He muttered.

The ring. Zara's ring. If Skye's compass was important so was the ring and we planned on seeing Zara to adress that matter.

"You?" He asked.

"Not the ring." I admitted, looking at his lips.

"Come here love."

He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me again. We kissed for longer this time, not bothering to come up for air.

"Gray..." I moaned.

"This isn't real," I murmured as his lips began to work their way down my neck, toward the surface of the water.

"Feels real to me." Grayson was smiling, but I didn't let it fool me.

"Nothing ever feels real to you," I whispered, but the magical thing was that I didn't care.

"Just this," Grayson whispered, and he pulled my body tight to his.

"Just this." It was better than riding on the back of a motorcycle going a thousand miles an hour or standing on a rooftop fifty stories tall. It wasn't just the rush or the thrill. I felt completely, utterly in control. I felt unstoppable.

Like we were unstoppable.

And then, without warning, Grayson froze. "Don't move," he whispered, his breath visible in the air between his lips and mine. "Isaac?" Grayson called.

I did the one thing he'd told me not to do. I moved, whirling around to face the forest, my back to him, so that I could see what he was seeing. A flash of movement. And eyes.

"I've got her," Oren yelled, and just like that, my head of security was pulling me from the hot tub. The freezing air hit me like a truck. Adrenaline shot through me as Isaac bit out an order. "Eli, go!"

The younger guard, positioned near the tree line, took off running toward the intruder. I tried to track his movements, like doing that might somehow make me safer. I'm fine. Isaac's here. I'm fine. So why couldn't I remember how to breathe?

Isaac ushered me inside.

"What was that?" I wheezed. "Who was that?" My brain clicked into gear. "Paparazzi? Did he take pictures?" The thought was horrifying.

Isaac didn't reply. Someone wrapped a towel around me. Not Isaac. Not Grayson.

It was a full five minutes before Eli came back. "I lost him." He was breathing hard.

"Paparazzi?" Isaac asked.

Eli's bright blue eyes narrowed until all I could see was the amber ring around the center. "No. This was a professional."