Celeb Crush (25 page)

"I know that you think you can’t trust me," Luke finally blurts out, running both hands through his hair.  "I fucked up enough times to know I deserve it.  That thing with Kat is a mistake I regret every damn minute of every day."

My posture immediately stiffens.  I hate that I care so much that he slept with her.  I hate knowing that he cares about
her
.  I hate that I have the overwhelming urge to climb him like a tree and suck every thought of another girl out of him.  The dirty way.

“You’re right, I don't trust you," I say, looking him in the eye.  “I know you too well.”

Luke nods, his mouth twisting into a wry smile.  He closes his eyes briefly.  When he reopens them, they seem to glow like jewels in the sun.  “Then I’ll have to earn it.” 

He takes my hand, and squeezes it.  “But I trust you, Andi.  I trust that you know me better than anyone—and to kick my ass when I need it.  You tell me the straight up truth when everyone else around me is blowing smoke up my ass.  Sometimes I feel like I’m suffocating—and then I look around and realize it’s because you’re not there.  When I’m with you, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.  Even when you’re tearing me apart.”

I just stare at him, utterly confused, and inexplicably defensive.  This doesn’t sound like the little hook-up speech he gave me in church.  What is this nonsense?  Is it because of the wedding?  Weddings make people sentimental and shitty sometimes.  That’s one of the reasons I hate them.

I don’t know how to deal with the way Luke is looking at me right now.  “I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurt out, moving abruptly away from him.

But he grabs me as I try to escape, and hauls me back to him.  “Stop trying to run away from me,” he growls, eyes sparking with anger.  “Maybe you don’t want to hear what I have to say, but you’re gonna to hear it—even if I have to handcuff you to the railing.”

I pull away from him, glaring.  “Sorry, but I’m not into that.  You’re mistaking me for Katiya Poriskova.  Remember, I know all your dirty little secrets since I’m the one who had to clean up after you!”

Luke grits his teeth.  “I know that!  I can’t change the past,” he grinds out.  “But I can promise you the future.”

“Isn’t that from a so—?”

“I love you, Andi,” he says, effectively shutting me up.  “I’m in love with you.  Let me make my intentions perfectly clear since it’s pretty fucking obvious you’re clueless.”

He places two fingers under my sagging jaw and gently pushes up so my mouth clicks shut.  Looking deeply into my eyes, he continues, “I want you, and only you for as long as you’ll have me.  And even if you don’t want me, I’ll still be here trying like hell to change your mind.”

Luke’s face is so close to mine.  He’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that exists in his world.  And what do I do?  I snort in his face.

“Come on, Luke,” I say, shaking my head.  “It sounds like you’re about to—”

“Propose?”  My eyes go wide as saucers as that.  His voice turns warm and husky as he trails his fingers along my cheek.  “Would you say yes, Tiger?”

I outright laugh at him this time.  “Now I know you’re fucking with me.”

Luke’s mouth is smiling, but his eyes are deadly serious.  “I’m not, but don’t worry.  I won’t ask you until you’re ready.  Baby steps, right?”

He grabs my hand and leads me toward the stairs.  He lowers himself on a step, and gently pulls me down next to him.  I only realize how much my feet hurt once I’m sitting down, and they start noticeably throbbing.  I hide my wince as I carefully arrange my dress so I don’t accidentally flash Luke.  Gosh, I remember when I was prepared to do more than that—until he opened his stupid mouth.

“So.”  Luke nudges me in the side.  “Do I get a chance to prove myself to you?”

I hesitate, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.  “Just to clarify…you want, like, a…relationship with me?”

Luke laughs at my cautious tone.  “Yeah, Andi.  I want a relationship with you,” he says like it’s an understatement.

“So…you mean more than just a physical relationship?”

“Definitely more,” he says firmly.  “I want everything from you.”

I exhale harshly, unaware that I’d been holding my breath until now.  “I need a minute,” I say weakly.

Luke shrugs casually, but I can see that he’s both tense and uncertain.  That line between his eyes is back, and his jaw tightens slightly as he looks away. 

He fucking loves me?  When the hell did this happen?  I’m not even loveable.  Why would he want me?  Luke knows me better than anyone.  He knows I’m not a good person, and that I would bring nothing positive to a relationship.  I would ruin both him, and his career.  I…

I mentally shake my head.  I can’t, even for a moment, fantasize what it would be like to be with him like that.  It’s too much.  It would blow up in my face, and I’d never recover.  Not from that.  Not from him.

“I can’t,” I say finally, staring down at my hands.

“Why?”  Luke asks after a pregnant pause.  “And don’t tell me it’s because you don’t have feelings for me.  I know you do.  You can lie to yourself, but not to me.”

His tone is full of pent-up frustration.  Well, I’m frustrated, too!  “Why?” I echo incredulously, looking up at him.  “You’re not just some random guy off the street.  You’re Lucas Greyson!”

Luke shakes his head in disgust.  “I know who I am.  So, what?  Because I’m me, I don’t get to be with the only person I care about?!”

Too agitated to sit, I spring to my feet.  I nearly trip over my dress, but Luke quickly catches me, also standing to help me regain my balance.

“It’s not that simple and you know it,” I say angrily.  “You said before that you feel like you have a target on your back all the time.  Well, what do you think will happen to me if we get together?  I’ll be the unworthy nobody bitch who took the hottest young actor in the world off the market.  They’ll vilify me!”

  “That’s not what you’re afraid of.”  Luke’s gold-green eyes burn into mine.  “Come on, Andi!  You know me, you know my world.  You won’t let yourself get sucked in, or destroyed by all the bullshit.  You’re stronger than that.”

“Easy for you to say!”  I sneer at him.  “You’re not the one who—”

Luke’s lips crash into mine, effectively swallowing up my protests.  Lightning strikes, and my body tingles from head to toe.  I clutch onto his suit jacket, pulling him closer to me as much for support as desire.  The taste of him is simply intoxicating, and I want more, more, more.

  He is the first to pull back.  He presses a soft kiss to my forehead.  “Give me a chance,” he pleads softly.  “We’ll go as slow as you want.  And we’ll figure this out together.  I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.  I need you, Andi.  I can’t be me without you.”

“Who else would you be—Jackson Frazier?” I retort, rolling my eyes in confusion.

“Smart ass.”  He has the nerve to lightly smack my butt before pulling me back against his tall strong body.  “So, what do you say, Tiger?  You gonna give me a break here?”

“I don’t know, Luke,” I reply hesitantly.  “I just don’t know if we’d be good together.”

“Are you kidding me?”  Luke smiles lazily down at me, running his hands up and down my bare back.  “We’d be awesome together.  We’d have these hot knock-down, drag-out fights just so we can have dirty animal make up sex after.”

His expression darkens and intensifies when he says that last bit, and I suddenly feel like a hunter’s cornered prey.  I force a laugh.  “Yeah—no,” I mutter.

“What, you don’t think it’d be like that between us?”  Luke’s tone is playful, but with an underlying seriousness. 

I shrug carelessly.  “I never really thought about it,” I lie.

“Oh, yeah?”  He flashes his sexy smirk at me.  “I bet I can make you think about it right now.”

Trying to calm my racing heart and all my overexcited girl parts, I feign nonchalance as I break out of his hold, moving back against the railing and reaching back to grasp the metal balusters.  “Right here on the stairs?  That’s not very romantic,” I say.

“Fuck romance.  Say yes, and I won’t give a damn where we are—and I’d make it my goddamn mission to make you come so hard, you can’t stop…until I let you."

I suck in a shaky breath as an insidious warmth spills low in my stomach at his words.  Oh, god, he nearly did that already, without even being conscious!

I try desperately to find my words.  “Luke…”

"But I meant what I said about taking things slow.  We won’t have sex until you beg me for it.” 

“Beg?” I repeat with a dangerous note in my tone.  “That will never happen.  You’ll be the one begging me, hot shot.”

“Really?”  A slow smile starts to spread across his gorgeous face.  “That sounds like a challenge, Tiger.”

“Make it a bet,” I snap.  “A hundred bucks says you cave first.”

Luke’s smile turns into a full-fledged smirk.  He stares challengingly into my eyes as he takes his wallet from his back pocket, and pulls out a fat stack of crisp fifties.  His gaze continues to hold mine hostage, even when I feel him tugging, on the long skirt of my dress.  Without taking his eyes from mine, he lifts my skirt up to my waist, and deftly reaches under it.  I gasp in shock when I feel him slip that wad of cash down the front of my panties, careful not to brush his fingers against my heated skin.   His smirk deepens as he steps back, carefully straightening my skirt back in place.

"I'll take that bet.  And I'll be putting my mouth where my money is sooner than you think."

I flush crimson from head to toe.  I can feel the bills brushing against a very sensitive part of my body, reminding me that it actually happened—he really stuck his money down my panties like I’m a dirty little stripper.  I swallow thickly, caught in a heavy daze, though I can feel my blood pumping furiously through certain parts of my traitorous body.

Luke’s expression is both intense and triumphant, knowing that he’s affected me.  Irritation diverts the blood back to my head. 

“Very smooth,” I manage to say, though in a somewhat husky tone.  “But then you've had lots of experience sticking money in women's underwear.”

He shakes his head at me.  “There you go again bringing up my past.  Trust me; the only panties I want to stick something in are yours.”

I shift self-consciously, crossing my arms over my chest.  “Beg me first.”

“You don’t know how much I want to.”  He leans close to brush his lips against mine in a teasing kiss.  “Keep the money.  I just want you, Andi.  Say yes.  I’ll get down on my knees and beg if you want.”

I bite down hard on my lip, looking away.  Why does it feel like I’m running head first toward a steep cliff?  And the scary thing is, I want to take that leap more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.  I open my mouth, having no idea what I’m going to say.

“We can try,” is what comes out to my complete astonishment.  “Luke—”

He shuts me up again by kissing me.  I respond by throwing my arms around his neck, and letting myself sink into him.  For now I’m going to enjoy the leap.

I’ll worry about the landing some other day.

Chapter 21

Back in California…

“Goddamnit, Andi!  I wasn’t trying to imply anything!  I just thought you might want a new outfit.”

I throw Luke’s black credit card with
my name on it
in his face.  “Because all my clothes are too low class for your fancy party, right?” I sneer at him.  “I told you before, if you’re ashamed of me, why are you making me go?!”

Luke makes an inarticulate sound of anger. He runs his hands through his short blonde hair, locking them behind his head, and making the ropy muscles in his arms bulge.  “I’m not ashamed of you,” he growls.  He exhales an exasperated sigh.  “I don’t care what the fuck you wear, I just want you to be comfortable!”

“I’ll be comfortable if I don’t go!” I snap back.  “Why do you want me to, anyway?”

“We’ve had this conversation.”  He towers over me, his entire body vibrating with tension.  “You’re my girlfriend.  I want you involved in every part of my life.  I need you there with me.”

It’s my turn to sigh.  We’ve had this fight before.  Luke wants us to go public while I have no problem remaining his dirty little secret.  I throw a tantrum over him trying to give me money hoping we’d get into another fight, and I could get out of going to his director friend’s stupid party.  What kind of asshole throws garden parties, anyway? 

I turn away from Luke, my eyes landing on Nate who is sprawled on the couch, gnawing on beef jerky, and watching us fight.  I forgot that he was there.  His gaze meets mine, and he grins.

“No worries, Andi,” he reassures me with a wink.  “I’ll be there, too.  I got your back.”

I flash him a half-hearted smile in return.  Nate’s become a close friend over the past couple of years, but he’s completely unreliable.  If there is a hot girl within perv-ing distance, he’ll drop me like used condom.  That’s a terrible analogy.  I shouldn’t have said that.

We’re currently hiding out at one of Ivan’s rental properties in Montecito.  Ivan gave both Luke and Nate keys to the condo for emergency purposes.  He doesn’t know they use it as a place to bring back their hook-ups.  There’s a big glass bowl of condoms in every room.  The cleaning lady keeps them well-stocked.  Yes, it bothers me to think about Luke and his conquests having sex in the bedroom I’m staying in, but I’m well aware of his past.  There’s nothing to do but try and move forward.  I said I’d give him a chance, and I sort of meant it.

He’s keeping his promise about us taking things slow.  The problem is our bodies have different ideas.  When I’m occupying the same space as Luke I feel the intense need to touch him, to connect his body to mine.  When I’m not with him, I feel like I’m slowly dying.  It may sound overly dramatic, but that’s just the kind of person I am.   See, I knew this would happen.  I knew I would get obsessed with him like this.   Actually, I think I always was, and have just now realized it.

I also know that sex with him would seal my fate of doom.  So I’m grateful Luke is keeping himself on a tight leash…because if he pushed me, I would not hesitate to tear his clothes off and ride him like a bucking Bronco in a naked rodeo.  All.  Night.  Long.

Yup, all this restraint is frustrating.  I think we’re both testing ourselves, seeing how long we can hold out.  I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose.  Some sexual tension can be awesome.  This is sadism.

I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear to this thing.  I could call Jessica for help, but we’re pissed at each other at the moment.  When she found out that Luke and I were dating, she immediately paid me a personal visit.  She told me I needed a complete overhaul if I was going to be worthy enough to be on Lucas Greyson’s arm.  It kind of hurt my feelings.  I probably shouldn’t have pinched her arm, but it was the least violent thing I could think of doing at the time.  How could I know she would bruise so easily? Bitch is skin and bones.  I guess I was feeling a tad hostile after having spent over an hour listening to her rant about how I was going to single-handedly destroy Luke’s career with my wretched peasant ways.  Like I don’t already know that.

I’m tired of stressing over it.  I decide on a crisp white long-sleeved blouse, and a black pencil skirt that ends just above my knees.  I figure I can’t go wrong with such a basic style.  I pull my long hair back into a high ponytail, and reluctantly apply makeup.  I loved my cosmetics in high school, but not so much now.  I have the bad habit of biting off my lipstick and rubbing at my made-up eyes.

Nate is the first to see me in my boring outfit.  The first thing he does is tug on my shirt so the top three buttons go flying off.  Instead of apologizing for being a dick, he advises me to change my white bra for a black one to make my look more edgy.  I punch him right in the nipple.

He’s dressed to impress in a pale blue V-neck shirt that matches his eyes, and khaki shorts.  Nate looks like the handsome privileged preppy he is.  You think he’d be stuck up and maybe racist, but he’s not.  He’ll sleep with anything female regardless of race or class, or even weight.  He loves women, and they love him.  Even if his best friend wasn’t Lucas Greyson, he’d still get more sex than the average player boy.  He appears both harmless and charming, and despite spending weeks at a tropical resort, he’s still as pale as the day he was born, god bless him.

Luke is wearing a plain beige shirt and jeans, yet looks stunning enough to walk any major runway in the world.  Yet he stares at me like I’m the super model in the room.  I probably owe that to Nate and his button popping skills.  My skin burns under his intense gaze.  Pure blissful torture.  Right.

We take Nate’s silver Porsche Cayenne with its custom tint job on the side and rear windows.  Luke sits in the back with me, causing Nate to complain about feeling like a taxi driver.  To get even, he blasts Jackson Frazier songs from the Porsche’s excellent sound system—to which he conveniently knows every word as he sings along at the top of his lungs.  Halfway through the long ride, I start to feel nauseous.  I’m not sure if it’s from Nate’s voice, or nerves.  Maybe a combo of both.  Luke seems to look forward to seeing his friends.  Apparently, most of the Soul cast will be there.  That means Kat will be there.  I’m not sure how I feel about that.  Yes, I do.  I feel a murderous rage when I think about Luke’s beautiful co-star.  If she calls me Sally again, I think I should correct her with a headbutt.  But how do I justify my actions?  I’ll have to think on that one.

We’re almost there.  The road leading up to the massive wrought iron gates are lined with fans, paparazzi, and men in dark suits with ear pieces—hired security, I’m assuming.

Nate is forced to crawl along at a snail’s pace as people swarm around us.  Camera shutters start clicking away, and everyone’s shouting Luke’s name.  Same old drill, except now they’re asking questions about me.  I push Luke’s hand off my thigh and try to look professional and entourage-ish as I play a word game on my phone.  Thank god I had the foresight to wear these enormous and bug-like sunglasses.  Luke keeps his head down, but his irritation is evident.  He freaking hates the paparazzi.

The car in front of us is stopped at the gates.  Its occupants climb out and are ushered through the opening gates.  A husky guy in a black suit jumps in the driver’s side and drives off.  Another security guy with a tablet waves us forward through the opening.  Guess Luke is VIP enough to park on the property.  Nate drives on through, following a cobblestone path.  A woman in a gray pantsuit directs us to park in a circular driveway already crowded with luxury cars.  Guests and personnel roam the area like expensive free range cattle.

Luke’s director friend, Paul Tseng, lives in a gorgeous house that is designed to look like a medieval castle with its ivy-covered brick façade and round turrets.  The backyard consists of an English garden, complete with a miniature maze.  There are big white tents with billowing curtains to accommodate the guests.  The interior features round glass tables, elegantly set up.  The tents have drippy gold and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, and they are actually climate controlled.  I did not know that was possible.

Being here is kind of like being at a high school party, except with a much wider age range and better food.  Beautiful glamorous people stand around in little cliques, laughing and congratulating each other on their fabulousness.  The women are all similarly dressed in the latest summer fashions—a cool and casual feminine style with lots of bronze-colored accessories.

You know who I’m dressed like?  The caterers—who are circulating the party in their black and white outfits—expertly holding trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.  All I’m missing is the cute little black apron.

I wouldn’t blame Luke if he pretended not to know me.  But he keeps a firm possessive hold on me, and introduces me to everyone as his girlfriend—even to the people I’ve previously met.  I’m both confused and amused by how proud of me he seems.

When he breaks the news to Eyan, I expect his co-star to be shocked, since he already knows me as Luke’s employee and badly dressed friend.  But Eyan just slaps him on the back in a congratulatory way and says, “About damn time, mate.”  Then he winks at me while I give him a suspicious look.

I already know some of the girls with whom Luke had previously hooked up with—and even if I didn’t, I would be able to guess by their reaction to the news.  Some appear insultingly disbelieving as they look me up and down; others are plain pissed.  Two blonde swimsuit models that seem to be joined at the hip sneer openly at me then blatantly try to entice Luke into
another
threesome with them.  He shuts them down before I can attack their faces.

The most dramatic reaction comes from Kat.  She appears both shocked and devastated—but quickly recovers.  I realize right then that she’s actually in love with Luke.  He must not know, or he would never have told her about me like this.  He doesn’t seem to realize her smile is completely fake, and her congratulations are forced.

“So it finally happened,” Kat says, trying and failing to sound amused as she carefully avoids looking in my direction.

Luke is clueless.  “Yeah, I wore her down with my charm and good looks.” He chuckles, keeping an arm loosely wrapped around my waist while I stare at Kat the way I’ve seen a mongoose stare at a cobra in nature documentaries.

“Well, that’s awesome,” she says unenthusiastically.  Finally, she glances over at me.  “Hey, Sally, do you mind if I borrow him for a minute?  Steve wants us to talk to Carol about those rewrites.”

Luke groans letting his head fall back.  “You’re kidding.  She’s still making noises about that shit?”

“Right?”  Kat tosses her light blonde hair back.  “She doesn’t get that it will completely fuck up the schedule.  Anyway, Steve says we’re the only people she’ll listen to.  But we have to hurry—she’s about to leave.”

Luke looks down at me.  “I’ll just be a few minutes, okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I say with a shrug.

“Hold on,” he says to Kat. 

He takes out his phone and starts texting.  A couple minutes later, Nate saunters up to us, and Luke instructs him to stay by my side until he gets back.  Kat and I both roll our eyes at his overprotectiveness.  Then we glare at each other.

“Oh, and Kat?” Luke says before they leave.  She glances back at him questioningly. “Her name is Andi.”

Kat gives me a stiff nod.  “Andi.  Sorry.”

I don’t know why, but I blow her a kiss.  She looks just as confused as I feel.  Luke and Nate laugh.

“Man, I was just about to score with Alisa Barnes,” Nate complains after LuKat disappears into the crowd.

“The chick with the fangs on the Superhuman Chronicles?” I say.  “Go for it, playboy.  You really don’t have to babysit me.”

Nate shakes his head reluctantly.  “Luke will kick my ass if I leave you.”

I roll my eyes.  “I’ll cover for you.  Now go get her.”

I jerk my head in the direction of the gorgeous brunette actress who suddenly moves into our line of sight.  Nate whimpers loudly, openly drooling at her body.  He stares longingly at her, and I give him a not so gentle shove forward.

“You’re the best.”  He plants a quick kiss on my cheek.  “Stay out of trouble, Anderson, or the boss will kill me.”

I wave him away.  Almost the instant he leaves, I regret letting him go.  What the hell am I supposed to do now?  I want to drink my nerves away, but I don’t dare.  Sobriety is my only defense against my violent tendencies.  Also, I don’t know why the Swimsuit Twins feel the need to stalk me, but every time I turn around, there they are, whispering to each other and making comments loud enough for me to hear about my Price Pride clothes.  You would think they’d have better things to do than to stalk a nobody like me, but I guess not.

I’m bored.  A few people come up to me to make conversation.  I know they’re only talking to me because of Luke.  Some are nice; some are condescending.  A waiter snaps at me to get another tray from the kitchen.  I follow him inside, and he hands me an apron and a platter full of champagne.  I serve drinks and food for a while, and old guys stick cash money in my apron pockets and down my blouse.  I see it happening to some of the other servers—male and female—and assume it’s standard practice.  If so, I might have to talk to this catering company about a job. Them’s hundred dollar bills they’re stuffing in my clothes, people.  I seem to be having a lot of stripper moments lately.  Doesn’t bother me.

I could have spent the whole party working, but then Marcos rats me out.  He’s just jealous because I made more tips than him in an hour than he did his whole shift.  I wasn’t gonna brag, but he asked.