Celeb Crush (13 page)

“Watch it!” I elbow an Amazon of a woman back when she jostles Megan to get to Luke. “She’s pregnant!”

Amazon lady’s eyes widen.  “Really?!” she exclaims.  “Is she his girlfriend?  Oh, my god!  Lucas’ girlfriend is pregnant!”

She says this so loud.  The news spreads like wildfire.  “Oh, no,” I mumble.

“What?” Luke says, sounding confused as hell when people start shouting congratulations at him.

I grab him and Megan, and hustle them both into the nearest store.  We duck into the  employees only in the back, and when the sales staff descends upon us I quickly explain the situation.  They agree to contact security for us, and help keep people away.  We’re safe for now.  Micah would be proud of me.

“Why do those people think Megan is having my baby?” Luke asks me while we’re hanging out in a storage room.

I avoid meeting his eyes.  “Um.”

Megan is sitting on a chair, arms crossed protectively over her stomach.  I’m slightly worried that she’s going to hyperventilate. “That was insane,” she says weakly, shaking her head.  

I bite my lip.  “Do you think we should call Ivan, or Jessica?”

Luke takes his cap off, threading his hands through his hair, then locking his hands behind his head.  He exhales softly.  “No,” he says finally.  “There are always rumors out there about someone having my lovechild.  If it gets out of hand and Megan gets identified, then Jessica will release a statement.”

Megan looks startled.  “People will think I’m your girlfriend,” she says in shocked tones. 

I don’t know why she’s looking at me so guiltily.  Then I remember that I’m supposed to be Luke’s girlfriend.  Oh, yeah.  I try to look depressed.

“Sorry about this, Megan.”  Luke looks at her, stricken. “I shouldn’t have come with you guys—I should have known better.”

“Oh—no!  It’s not your fault,” Megan is quick to say.  Her eyes widen with sincerity.  “You should be able to go wherever you want.”

“But he can’t,” I cut in.  Her obvious sympathy for the poor A-list actor annoys me.  I plop down on a stack of boxes, flailing a little when the top one caves in under my weight.  “Where the hell is security?  It’s been nearly fifteen minutes.”

“I just want to get out of here,” Megan murmurs.

“I could go back out there,” Luke offers with a shrug.  “If it gets bad, I can always make a run for it.”

He’s done it before.  He’s got some pretty rabid fans—especially in Japan.  God, some of those girls were like machines!  I know I can’t let him risk it.  I’m on his payroll, so I guess I should take one for the team.

“Wait here,” I tell them.

I talk to the employees lingering in the hallway just outside.  They let me borrow a blazer and a work badge, and a girl named Bebe walks with me out the back door.  There is a fair amount of fans waiting outside.  They stir excitedly when the door opens, and try to see past us through the opening.  Bebe quickly shuts it, and we pretend to talk casually with each other, ignoring the curious crowd.

“Is Lucas Greyson still in there?” a girl with bright pink braces asks, clutching her phone to her chest.

“No, he snuck out a side entrance a few minutes ago,” I say like I’m divulging a juicy secret.  I point vaguely to the building.  “I think he’s hiding out in that watch store next door.”

Girls start whispering to each other, wondering if they should believe me.  Apparently I’m a better actress than I thought.  Pink Braces Girl and her friends start running around the side of the building.  Others start to follow the girls, thinking they know something.

I quickly strip off the blazer and hand it back to Bebe.  “Thanks,” I say.  “We really appreciate your help.”

“No problem!” she replies in a way that say she’s going to share this moment with her two hundred and fifty Facebook friends.  “So, um, is that girl LG’s girlfriend?”

“He doesn’t even like her!” I snap.  Then I get ahold of myself and smile politely.  “She’s his cousin.”

“Oh, I see.  Well, good luck!”

Yeah.  I jog around to the front of the store, where the hordes are lying in wait.  I spot a fluttery teenager standing at the fringes with a bunch of her gum-chewing friends.  I make a beeline for her, and yank her arm to get attention.

“Oh, my god!” I scream in her face.  “I just saw him go into that store!”

I point at the shoe store across the way.  Fortunately, there’s a tall guy inside, visible through the glass front.  He looks nothing like Luke, even from a distance, but he’s wearing a baseball cap, and his back is turned.

“Oh, my gosh!” she shriek-whispers.  “Katie, Shannon!  He’s over there!”

Once again, the herd mentality works in my favor.   I step aside and watch the mob swarm towards the shoe store.  That poor guy in there, though.  And I do feel bad about tricking Luke’s fans.  I know what it’s like to have an obsessive personality.

I run back inside the store, grab the two, and drag them out the back entrance.  There are a few people still milling around outside.  They get super excited when they see Luke, but I keep towing him along.  He waves at them, and then puts a finger to his lips in a conspiratorial gesture.  His fans eat it up.

I’m not sure if Megan should be hurrying in her condition, so we leave her hiding in another store.  Then Luke and I walk at a fast pace to the parking lot.  Once we find my car, Luke gets in the back and hunkers down.  I pull in front of the store Megan’s in and text her to come out.  She does so cautiously, looking around like she’s being hunted.  She hops into the passenger side, and we are off.

What an unproductive day.  Once we’re safely out of the parking lot, Luke straightens up, resting his hands on the sides of my seat.  “Damn, Tiger.  Those were some nice moves back there,” he says in an admiring voice.  “How’d you like to be my new head of security?”

I laugh, trying to picture myself ordering the shark-eyed and scarily efficient Micah around.  “Yeah, no thanks.”

“That was actually scary,” Megan says.  “Like, I never thought about what it’s like for the famous person on the other side of all that attention.  I’ve always been the girl freaking out in the crowd, trying to get a clear shot.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy, huh?”  Luke leans forward between our seats, rubbing his jaw.  “When I’m meeting a fan, I never know if they want to hug me—or kill and eat me.”

“Yeah, I bet you’re deeeee-licious,"  I joke, thinking of a line from that commercial with the raspberry twist drink with legs running from the thirsty kids chasing after it with straws.

His answering chuckle is low and sexy.  “Wanna find out?”

I walked right into that one.  To my horror, I realize I’m blushing.  I never blush.  I accidentally meet Luke’s eyes in the rearview mirror.  We hold each other’s gazes for several long and uncomfortably intense moments.

“Truck!” Megan suddenly shrieks, startling me badly.

I can’t believe I just pictured myself going down on Luke.  Why have I never fantasized about it before—it’s pretty fucking hot.  But also…inappropriate.  Does he know his method acting is messing with my head?  Next thing I know, I’ll be acting like one of his obsessed fangirls—except worse, ‘cause I’m way more aggressive and hardcore.  Damn, I hope Megan didn’t catch that little bit of foreplay. 

Luke moves back into his seat to do something on his phone, and I breathe a sigh of relief.  My entire body remains flushed, like I’ve been dipped in warm chocolate.  I’m fondue.  Why is Megan talking to me right now?  I can barely concentrate on the road as it is.

“—would freak out,” she’s saying.  “All those girls throwing themselves at him all the time.  Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Why?” I say blankly.  “Oh.  Right.  Yeah, I hate those bitches!”

“I don’t blame you!” Megan agrees with a giggle.  “When are you two going to go public with your relationship?  I mean, you’re not going to keep it a secret forever, are you?”

“Why not?” I ask with a shrug.  “Nobody has to know.”

Megan stares at me incredulously.  “Are you kidding?  If I were you, I’d be telling the whole world!  It’s Lucas Greyson!”  Embarrassed by her outburst, she quickly glances over her shoulder to make sure Luke is preoccupied on his phone.

“Uh-huh, and I’m
me
,” I say, and because she knows me, that should be explanation enough.  “And it’s better for his career if people think he’s single, or dating someone like Kat Vandevere.”

“Yeah, but…”  Megan fiddles with the delicate engagement ring on her finger.  “Don’t you get jealous?  Like, me—especially lately, with all my hormones going insane.  If any girl so much as smiles at Bran, I get so pissed!”

What is this?  Is this bonding time?  Are we supposed to renew severed relations commiserating over shared insecurities?  I turn a grim smile on her.  “Aww!” I say with fake sympathy.  “Are you worried that you’ll come home one day to find Bran having naked seizures on some other chick?”

She pales.  Was it the naked seizures comment—or the guilt?

I really want to vent at her for a while.  But what’s the point?  I think I made my feelings clear with the gasoline and the match two years ago…

“Ease down, Tiger,” Luke’s voice murmurs right in my ear. 

I glance at the speedometer.  Eighty-five and climbing.  I take my lead foot off the gas, staring straight ahead at the road.  How much of that did Luke hear?  I mean, did he hear the part about the naked seizures?  I sincerely hope not.

“I’m sorry.”

Megan’s voice comes out soft and stilted.  She turns her head so she’s looking out her window.  “I should never have asked you to do this.  I knew it was a bad idea,” I hear her mutter.

“Ha, I knew it!  Why did you, then?”

“Why do you think, Andi?!”  Megan whips her head back to look me in the eye.  “I did it for my mom.  And for Bran.  If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have even invited you!  You’re so—”

She bites her lip.  I see her eyes shift quickly towards the backseat, where Luke is politely trying to give us some privacy. She shakes her head, and turns away again.

I wonder what she was going to say.  I know she stopped herself because she didn’t want to sound like a bitch in front of her celebrity crush.  Fortunately I don’t have that problem.  Not that I want to air our dirty laundry in front of my boss/fake boyfriend—but I think a good fight would clear the air.  It used to take a lot to get Megan to stoop to my level when we were kids.  She used to be like, “you’re so immature!” then she would stomp away, and give me the silent treatment for a week.  The few screaming matches we did have brought us closer together, in my opinion.  Oh, wait—I forgot she’s not supposed to have any stress.  I guess I’ll have to wait until after the baby’s born to throw it down with her.

Well, at least all this hostility and resentment has eviscerated the sexual tension in here.  I meet Luke’s eyes in the mirror again, and the corners of his mouth tug up into a sympathetic smile.  I look away.

I think I liked the sexual tension better.

Chapter 11

Luke calls some girl named Sherry from his lengthy list of contacts, and he puts me on the phone with her.  She asks me personal questions about my measurements and Megan's wedding.  I give her the information before I realize what I’m doing.  He grabs his phone back before I can tell her to forget it.

Megan mumbles a hasty goodbye and rushes into the house.  I want to just drive off, but Talon is in the driveway, listlessly bouncing a basketball against the garage door.  The kid looks like someone just killed his puppy.  I ask Luke if he minds visiting for a bit.  He doesn’t.  He goes inside to talk to my aunt and be molested by Connie while I go talk to the kid.

“What’s going on?”  I lean against Aunt Susan’s minivan, keeping my expression casually neutral.

Talon scowls down at the ball.  “Nothing,” he says, heaving it against the garage door.  “It’s so boring here.”

I don’t believe in babying anyone—even babies.  “Is that why you’ve been in such a shitty mood lately?”

He gives a sullen shrug.  “I hate it here!” he blurts out at the ground.  “We don’t go anywhere anymore!  I can’t have my friends over, I can’t be too loud—I can’t do anything!”

He launches the ball at the garage again.  It goes wild, and I snatch it out of the air before it can smash into the van’s passenger side window.

Talon’s big blue eyes are full of confused anger as he glares up at me.  “Did you know that we were supposed to go camping, Andi?  Dalton was gonna come, and he was gonna bring Devo.  But now we can’t.  Mom is too sick, and Dad can’t leave her.  Then Bran and Megan were gonna take us, but then stupid Megan got pregnant, and Bran broke his stupid leg.  It’s not fair!  I got a new fishing pole for Christmas last year, and I’m never gonna get to use it.”

I wrack my brain for something comforting to say to him.  Nothing comes to mind.  He’s right, and it sucks.  His mom is sick, and stupid Megan got pregnant, and stupid Bran broke his stupid leg.  What can you do?

Talon is looking at me, waiting for me to make him feel better.  Because that’s what adults are supposed to do, right?  What do I do?  I wonder how much cash I have on me.  I know money would make me feel better in a situation like this, but not everyone’s as easy to please.

“You’re still going camping, dummy,” my mouth says before my brain can catch up.  “No one told you?  I’m taking you.  Yeah, so you better get ready to fish your ass off this weekend.”

Talon’s mouth drops open—then a huge grin starts to form on his face.  “Seriously?!  No, Mom didn’t tell me!  Were you guys trying to trick me, or something?” he demands to know, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah, we faked you out big time, huh?”  I laugh weakly, dribbling the ball for something to do.  “Sucker.”

He actually starts jumping up and down in excitement.  “Shit, yeah!  And Dalton can come, too, right?  And Devo?!”

“Yeah, sure.  Is Devo a dog or a person?”

“It’s a dog!  I gotta go call Dalton.  And pack!  Yippee!”  Talon starts to turn, stops, then looks at me hopefully.  “Is Lucas coming?”

I often wonder that very same…no.  “Who do you think is gonna go fishing with you guys?” I reply matter-of-factly.

Talon emits a strange whooping sound that doesn’t stop until he almost smashes into Luke coming out the front door.

Talon pokes him in the chest.  “You’re taking us fishing!” he crows excitedly.

“I am?”  Luke gazes down at him with an amused expression.  He glances up at me with raised eyebrows.  I shrug.

Talon starts whooping again, softer this time since he’s in the house.  Luke watches him go then closes the door after him.  His long-legged stride carries him over to me much too soon. 

“What was that about?” Luke asks, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his Cargos, and squinting down at me.

“Um, I’ll tell you later.”  I check the time on my phone.  “We have to go back to Ellen’s so you can pack.  I gotta get you to the airport.”

“Oh, shit.  That’s today, huh?”  He lets his head fall back, staring up at the sky.  “Alright, let’s go.”

“So, we’re going camping this weekend?”

“Not real camping,” I say, adjusting my seat a little.  “It has to be at a campground with showers and bathrooms.  Dalton’s mom said so.  But you don’t have to go.  I can cover for you.”

“Do you even know how to fish?”  Luke chuckles and shakes his head.  “Forget it.  I’m in.  When am I scheduled to fly back?”

“Saturday morning.  Jessica wants you to go to a few promotional events while you’re in town.”

“Awesome,” he replies with a resigned look.  “Hey, you sure you don’t wanna come with me?  Who knows how much trouble I’ll get into without you or Nate there to kick my ass?”

“You’ll be fine.  Micah’s meeting you in Eugene, and then he’s going to babysit you while you’re there.”

“That’s great.”  Luke slumps back in his seat, looking even more unenthusiastic.  “Sounds like I’ll be having a good ol’ time in L.A.”

“Poor baby,” I force a sympathetic smile on my lips.  “Why don’t you find a nice supermodel—or two—to hook up with while you’re there?  That’s always fun, right?”

An unreadable expression crosses his handsome features.  “Maybe I’m tired of random hookups,” he mutters, turning his head to stare out the window.

“What?” I’m not sure if I heard him right.

“I said I’m tired of having sex with girls I don’t really know, or particularly like.  It gets old, y’know?”  Luke meets my disbelieving eyes with a rueful grin.  “The thrill is gone.”

“I…”

I falter, truly shocked by his admission.  Luke is a—he’s very healthy, virile, and young .  He’s such a masculine guy that you can practically feel the testosterone in the air when he’s around.  I don’t know how to react to this.  Maybe there’s something wrong with him, like, physically?

“Um,” I begin.  How to put this delicately?  “Have you been to a doctor recently, Luke?  Maybe the pain meds you’re on, combined with all that alcohol, have affected you in ways that you might not be aware of…”

He outright laughs at my tactful approach.  “There’s nothing wrong with my sex drive, Andi.  Trust me.”

“Okay.  But you said you haven’t been with anybody in two weeks, so—”

“I can get it up,” Luke says shortly.  “If you don’t believe me, I guess I could show you.”

“Ugh!”  I put both hands over my ears.  “Stop that!”

Luke lunges over to my side to grab the steering wheel.  I only let go of it for a second.  I shove him back on his side, glaring at him.

“Will you stop saying things like that?!” I huff at him. 

“Like what?” he asks, his golden green eyes widening innocently.

“Flirty shit!  It’s freaking me out, so—just stop it.”

“Oh, come on, why does it bother you so much?”  Luke wants to know, angling his body to face me.  “You’re no blushing virgin.”

I give him what I hope is a withering look.  “You’re my boss, and you shouldn’t be talking to your employee like that.”

“So, you’re saying that if I fired you, it’d be okay?”

“No!  You’d still be you:  Lucas Greyson, the most in-demand actor in the world right now.”

“What the hell does that mean?”  Luke goes from teasing to pissed in a matter of seconds.  He braces a hand against the dash as he watches me.  “You wouldn’t give me a chance just because I happened to act in a few fucking movies?”

A few…god, he’s the king of understatements.  But I know I have to be careful what I say, or he’ll take it as a personal challenge to get me in his bed. 

I launch into a rambling speech about my different compartments, and the many facets of my life—and how I like to keep people sorted into one or the other.  I’m really bad at explaining myself.  I think he thinks I have dissociative identity disorder now.  But I’m trying to get the point across that I would never even consider hooking up with him.

I can tell Luke doesn’t like what I’m saying.  He’s got that frown line between his brows and he remains silent when I trail off in the middle of a sentence…because I’ve just given up trying to make sense.

The rest of the drive goes by peacefully.  I surreptitiously turn the radio on to a station playing classical music, hoping it will lull Luke to sleep for the rest of the trip.  But every time I peek over at him, he’s still awake.  He’s just not talking to me.  I’m okay with that.

Finally, we’re at the airport.  I pull to a stop in front of his departure gate, where I spot a grim-faced Micah waiting by the entrance.  I wonder if I should say something lighthearted to break the tension, or just keep my mouth shut.  While I’m still pondering, Luke gets out.  He grabs his backpack from the backseat, and I think he’s just going to walk away without saying anything.  But then he leans down through the open passenger window, looking steadily into my eyes.

“You know what the problem is with your neat little compartments and carefully organized life, Andi?” Luke asks softly.  He flashes me a little smirk.  “Someone inevitably comes along and fucks it all up.”

He straightens up and walks away.  “Okay, bye, then,” I call after him, but probably not loud enough for him to hear.  Is he mad at me?  What’s his problem lately?

Actors.

“What am I apologizing for?”

I turn to look at Bran, and he hops out of the way of the hose I accidentally aim at him.  He’s too slow with his cast on, and gets hit with an icy blast right in the crotch.  Ha.  Totally an accident, though.  He shouldn’t try to talk to me while I’m holding a hose.

Bran looks down at his wet shorts in dismay.  He shakes his head and laughs it off.  “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys today, but Megan came home really upset about something.  She’s talking about having you replaced as her maid of honor.”

“Really?” I say brightly.  I resume watering the flowers with a song in my heart.

“Come on, Andi.”  Bran dares to take the hose from me so I’ll look at him.  “You know she can’t get stressed out, especially with everything that’s going on.  It’s not good for the baby.  So, please, whatever happened—could you fix it?”

He looks especially boyish with his messy hair in his eyes and that pleading expression on his face.  I don’t know why, but it still affects some part of me.  I remember when we were kids, and Bran would have that same look on his face when he’d try to talk me down from doing something stupid
.  Andi, please stop kicking that guy.  Andi, put the chicken down.  For me.

So I guess he’s saved my ass a few times over the years.  It wouldn’t kill me to return the favor, right?  Well, it might kill him.

I leave Bran to finish watering the garden so I can find Megan and beg her to please, please let me a part of her nuptial.  I practice sincere smiles along the way, flashing one at Connie—whom I pass in the kitchen—to gauge its reception.  Connie asks if I’m okay.

Megan, Aunt Susan, and a bunch of girls I don’t know are in the living room stuffing candy and glitter into little boxes with Megan’s and Bran’s names engraved on them.  If Aunt Susan was her old self, this would be an assembly line of efficiency.  But she’s not, so it’s not.  The girls are sitting sprawled around the coffee table, giggling and having fun rather than getting much done.  I realize I do know three of the five other girls, besides Megan.  They’re her cousins from Aunt Susan’s side—Amy, Kori, and Brianna?  All three of them have grown out of that gawky awkward stage, and two of them have discovered makeup in a big way.

They squeal excitedly and jump up to give me hugs when they see me standing there.  It’s not that I’m their favorite person; they’re just the friendly exuberant type.  Like puppies.  Aunt Susan’s whole side is like that—a family full of natural cheerleaders.  When I’m with them, I feel like the ethnic thundercloud in a sky full of rainbows.  It’s not that I don’t like that feeling—because I actually do.  What I don’t care for is how tactile the whole Herrington family is.  And they all naturally smell like strawberries.  Isn’t that weird?

I sit down next to Megan, and she stiffly introduces me to the two other girls there—Mary and Rian—who are both from the church.  They smile and say hi, but don’t stop assembling boxes.  I look at the small pile of completed wedding favors—then at the much bigger pile of unconstructed ones.  With barely a sigh, I dive in.

It takes me a while to work up the fortitude to apologize to Megan.  I don’t like saying sorry when I don’t mean it, and I never mean it.  I especially don’t mean it right now but I force myself to say it, anyway.

“I’m sorry for what I said this morning,” I begin, keeping my glare glued to the box I’m putting together.  “I didn’t mean it.  Please, please let me be in the wedding.”

Megan’s hands falter.  “Bran talked to you, didn’t he?” she says suspiciously.

“Um.  No.”

“Whatever, Andi.  It’s fine.” 

I watch as she pokes her tongue against the inside of her mouth, the way she does when she’s trying to act like nothing’s bothering her.  She steals a quick glance at her mother, who is chatting with Kori at the moment.  She says in a low tone of voice to me, “I mean—I deserve what you said, right?  I shouldn’t have…”  She trails off, shaking her head.  “Can we just not do this now?  Can we just pretend that we’re, like, besties for life until the after the wedding?  Then you can go back to hating me.”