The Reunion by Kayla Olson(33)
Quiet, that is, until I hear the soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel path behind me. I startle at the sound like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t, like I’m somewhere off-limits—but it’s only Ransom.
“Hey,” he says, with a little half grin that tells me I am 100 percent, absolutely, no question about it in trouble, especially if he moves any closer.
He takes a step closer.
“Everything okay? You left Xan sort of abruptly back there.”
“You saw that?”
“I saw enough. Wanna talk?”
I grin. Wanna talk?, with that specific cadence and inflection—it’s a line straight out of so many episodes of Girl. Ransom stole it a long time ago for our real-life heart-to-hearts, just like the ones Duke and Honor had on the show except without as much stage makeup (most of the time). Hearing it, here and now, brings me back to so many moments, so many feelings, so many days where Ransom and I were inseparable on-screen and off-.
We lock eyes, and oh—this is new.
In all the times I’ve looked at him as more than just a friend, I’ve never seen those feelings reflected back at me with such sparkling clarity. I thought I had, years ago, on that flight to Shanghai during our world tour, when I was sure he was going to kiss me. Whatever I saw then, though, was only a shadow of what is unmistakably happening now. This is so startlingly more substantial than any look he’s given me, ever, and it nearly knocks the wind out of me.
Ransom and I have so much history: hundreds of mornings of laughter and Wanna talk? midnights, thousands of moments full of his smile, his moods, even his silence. Years of silence, gaping in the wake of all that happened in our final season. We’ve been embers and ashes for so long, but never entirely dead—from a distance, he kept up enough to know I’ve hardly given an interview in more than a decade. From a distance, I’ve watched his edges sharpen over the years, cheekbones and jawbone and the cut of muscle under his smooth bronze skin. There’s no distance between us now.
As it turns out, all it takes is a single spark to flare embers and ashes into something wild and blazing.
“I… don’t think I feel like talking right now.” My voice comes out quieter than I mean it to, not much more than a whisper.
He takes another step, and I close the gap between us, and before I know it his hands are resting on the dark denim at my hips, pulling me in close. I rest one hand on the strong stretch of muscle between his neck and his shoulder—his sweater is every bit as soft as it looks—and curl the other around the back of his neck. We’ve done this countless times as Duke and Honor. It’s as natural as breathing, being this close to him, but at the same time: it’s entirely new as Ransom and Liv.
He grins, biting his bottom lip in a way that says we are absolutely on the same page here, so close now I can smell the sweet scent of papaya lingering on his breath—
But then his phone starts vibrating in his pocket, startling us apart.
He stifles a curse. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “My agent keeps calling, and I’ve already sent her to voice mail three times. I should probably…”
“Oh, yeah, totally,” I say too quickly, my heart still racing, my mind still catching up to what almost happened just now. “I get it.” It’s part of the job, urgent phone calls at odd hours, a trade-off for all the perks we enjoy.
He gives a slow grin, trademark Ransom, and I melt a little. “See you at the table read?”
“Can’t wait,” I say. “See you Monday.”
He heads back to the din of the party.
I almost kissed Ransom Joel.
Ransom Joel almost kissed me.
I need to get out of here before it happens again—I need to be sure, sure we’re not making a huge mistake.
Gemma Gardner, Heartbreaker!
By Lila Lavender // Staff Writer, You Heard It Here First!
Psssssst… you’re gonna want to lean in close for this one, y’all! Are you ready for it? Are you sure? Get ready to see this bit of news blasted to even the darkest, dustiest corners of the interwebs: we hear from a trusted source, Gemma Gardner’s purported good friend Clare Holbrook, that press-shy Gemma has dumped everyone’s favorite first crush, Ransom Joel—and we have the receipts to prove it! Guess she’s not the soft-spoken sweetheart we all thought she was, yeah? Allow me to present Exhibit A: screenshots submitted by this so-called friend half an hour ago. (!!!) It just keeps getting better and better, amirite? We suspect “friend” is not the term Gemma will use for Clare Holbrook after this, if they were ever close at all—and after reading this exchange, I have my doubts.
June 15
Gemma
6:58 p.m.?Look, Clare, I’m sorry I can’t come…
I’m dealing with some big stuff right now Wait, big stuff? DID HE PROPOSE
6:59 p.m.
7:12 p.m.?Uh, no.
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[Editorial note, for those of you whose screen reader won’t describe that JPEG as well as I will: It’s a photo of Gemma holding her engagement-ring-less left hand in front of her face, which is undeniably hers and undeniably busted in a way that says I HAVEN’T STOPPED CRYING IN DAYSSSS. Former friend Clare, what were you thinking selling Gemma out like this? ]
GIRL
7:12 p.m.