Celeb Crush (33 page)

“Mm," is the best I can do after that toe curling kiss.   I fling an arm over my eyes, trying to shield myself from his excitement. “I’m regretting it already.”

Luke moves my arm and kisses the tip of my nose.  “Uh-uh, Tiger.  I’m going to make sure you have the time of your life.”

I jab a finger into his bare chest, squinting up at him.  “Whatever.  But you'd better fix things with my apartment manager!   I might get sick of you after a month, and I need someplace to come back to."

His lips twitch slightly.  "Ouch, but okay."

"And if that bitch Kat tries to start something, I want permission to beat the shit out of her.”

I half-expect Luke to defend his precious co-star, but he just laughs instead.  “Mm, I love it when you get feisty.  Just don’t mess her face up too bad—that’ll hold production back.  Anything else, your highness?”

“Yeah.”  I smile innocently up at him.  “While we’re down there, I want you to get ‘Andi’s Bitch’ tattooed on your ass.”

“Hm…”  Luke pretends to think this over, his brow furrowing in mock concentration.  “Alright, the ‘Andi’ part I can do—but I’m pretty sure I have a specific clause in a contract somewhere that prohibits me from getting the word ‘bitch’ inked on any part of my body.”

“Sure.”  I roll my eyes.  “But I can be flexible on the location of said tat.  It doesn’t have to be on your ass, considering how much you bare it in your movies.”

“Well, you know…”  Luke shrugs modestly.  “I have to give the public what they want.”

“And I suppose your crazed fangirls wouldn’t want to see some other chick’s name on your ass.  Maybe you’d better do it on your armpit or something.”

“Oh, hell no,” Luke replies with a smirk.  “We have to match.  By the way, I think I’m going to have to see your tat again.  You know, for future reference.  Turn over, baby.  I wanna see my name on your ass.”

His hand slides up my leg and over my butt, squeezing slightly.  Laughing, I try to wriggle out of his grasp.  “No—you bite!”

Luke grins down at me.  “Yeah, but I always kiss it better.”

We roll around on the floor, laughing and wrestling like children.  I suddenly realize that I am happy.  Really happy.  And I can't stop, or turn it off—and it's all because of him.  I've always warned myself never to base my happiness on another person ever again—and look what happened.  I had to go and fall for the one guy who can’t—despite what he says—completely belong to me.  As long as he’s Lucas Greyson, mega star, I’ll have to share him with the rest of the world. 

I’ve never been good at sharing.

Chapter 27

Somewhere deep down, I’d been expecting the call.  When my phone rings, I jump awake and answer right away, my heart in my throat.  It’s Ellen.  She tells me I need to come home as soon as I can.

Thank god for Luke.  I run around like a chicken with its head cut off while he calls Ivan to pull some strings for us.  A few hours later, we’re on a private jet to Eugene.  Luke holds my hand tightly during the flight, though I barely notice.  I’m too busy mumbling under my breath.  I guess I’m praying.

While waiting for the keys to our reserved car, a voluptuous redhead spots Luke under his cap and sunglasses.  Had she just asked for a picture or an autograph, I probably would have been fine with that.  But she actually plasters herself against his body and tries to give him her number—assuring him that she’d do “absolutely anything” to be with him.  I snarl and leap forward, ready to clock this bitch in her plastic face.  Luke manages to get between us just in time.  He distracts me by dangling the rental car keys in front of me.  I let him lead me away without a second glance back at Miss Redheaded Boobs.

On the way to Sea Wind, Ellen informs me that Aunt Susan has been moved to a hospice.  She gives me the address, which I relay to Luke who is driving.  The grief in Ellen’s voice sends ice cold shards of dread into my mostly numb body.  I try to keep my mind peacefully blank for now—I have to because I don’t think I can handle facing it.  I can’t stop shaking.  I can’t believe this is happening.  I just talked her last week.  How could she…?

The only thing keeping me together right now is Luke’s calming presence next to me.  There’s no way I can do this on my own.  I would—I don’t know what I would do without him here with me.

The hospice looks more like a home than a facility.  It’s a sprawling one story ranch style house up on a hill near the beach.  There are flowers growing everywhere, and perfectly manicured hedges line the whimsical seashell path to the front door.  It looks like something out of a fairy tale.  The kind of place Aunt Susan would have loved…

We park at the curb, behind Bran’s car.  I get out just fine, but then I’m rooted to the spot.  I plaster myself against the car door, staring fearfully at the house.  My knees are locked together.

“I can’t,” I say to Luke when he comes around to my side.  “I don’t want to go in there.”

Luke takes my ice cold hand in his and squeezes it reassuringly.  “I know you don’t want to,” he says softly, holding my gaze with his.  “But you will, because you’re strong enough to handle it.”

I take several deep breaths, keeping my eyes on Luke and trying to draw courage from him steadiness.  Though I’m not ready, I give a sharp nod.  He smiles back warmly, and I let him lead me to the house.

It doesn’t smell like a hospital inside—that’s the first thing I notice.  There is a pleasant lemony scent that greets us as we step into the reception area.  Luke speaks to the scrubs-clad man behind the desk.  I spot Connie and some of Aunt Susan’s side of the family in the waiting area that is made to look like a cozy living room.  My eyes pass over them in a daze.

Luke signs us in while I head toward Julia who is beckoning me over.  She envelopes me in a strawberry-scented hug while I remain stiff and unmoving in her arms, looking over her shoulder to the hallway that I’m sure leads to the rooms.

“She’s in the first room on the left,” Julia tells me.  “Go ahead, Andi.”

I’m walking through a nightmare.  My legs take me to the door before I’m ready to go.  It’s nice and airy inside.  It smells like flowers.  I should have brought some—why didn’t I think of that?

Aunt Susan is lying on a hospital bed, and she is so small and so still.  The first thing that strikes me is the lack of medical equipment.  Of course I know what a hospice is, and what it means.  It’s just…jarring.  She needs her oxygen.  She must be struggling to breathe right now.  What if she’s not ready to go, and they’re just letting her be in pain?

I haven't cried in years.  I've always thought it would require a huge effort.  But tears roll down my cheeks like someone's turned on a faucet.   I drift over to her bed and fall noiselessly into a chair.  I take her hand, and it's so incredibly soft.   I’ve never held her hand before, not that I can remember.  I’m afraid to touch her anywhere else.  Her skin looks as fragile as tissue paper; somehow waxy and just wrong.  Her fingers are slack and cold, and I cup them in both of my hands to warm them.

Aunt Susan’s eyes are closed, but I can’t tell if she’s sleeping.  Her brow is furrowed in concentration, like she’s trying to solve a difficult math problem.  Maybe it’s because she’s having trouble breathing.  Her mouth is open, and her upper body hitches in a hiccupping motion every time she takes a breath.  Why are they letting her suffer like that?  Why can’t they…god, I don’t know.

Talon is curled into a fetal position, lying at the foot of his mother’s bed.  I can’t tell if he’s asleep either.  He seems restless and feverish, grimacing every so often though his eyes remain closed.  Poor kid.  He’s too damn young for this.

I finally notice the others in the room.  Megan and Bran are sitting on a couch across the room.  She’s crying softly and he has his arm around her, comforting her.  He looks up at me and smiles slightly in greeting.  I nod and try to smile back.  

I don’t even notice Uncle Charlie sitting in the chair against the wall until he stands up.  I gape at him in shock, badly frightened.  For the first time in a long time, I mistake him for my dad.

He gives me a hug.  “Thanks for coming, Andi,” he says in a hoarse voice.

“I—of course.”  I surreptitiously wipe at my wet cheeks.  “Um, is she…how is she?”

Uncle Charlie looks away, rubbing the gray stubble on his jaw.  “She’s been sleeping most of the time.  They’re giving her morphine.  For the pain.”

He makes a funny snorting sound as he chokes back a sob.  It’s painful to watch this strong quiet man who looks so much like my father trying not break down.  I should comfort him somehow, but my mouth is clamped shut.  What do I say to make him feel better about having to watch his wife die?

“Talk to her,” Uncle Charlie tells me, patting my shoulder.  “She’s been waiting for you.”

He goes over to Megan and Bran, giving me some privacy.  I turn back to Aunt Susan, squeezing her hand gently.  She stirs a little when I awkwardly clear my throat.

“Aunt Susan?”  I lean forward over her.

She makes a soft grunting noise.  Her eyes are light filled slits.  Her fingers move a little.

“I love you,” I blurt out in a broken voice.  “I’m sorry I never told you before.”

A dreaming smile touches her beautiful dear face.  “Andi…love you…always.”

It’s the last conscious thing she says.

It takes three days.  Constant streams of visitors pass through.  Uncle Charlie won’t budge from her side, and Talon throws a horrible screaming tantrum when I try to take him home.  It’s amazing to see how loved my aunt is.  She’s surrounded by friends and family, her room filled with light and even laughter as everyone shares loving stories about her.  There’s so much grief, but also a peaceful acceptance.  Everyone’s ready to let her go.  I feel it, and I hate myself for it.

I’m there when she finally takes her last breath.  Sobs break out in the room, and they turn to each other for comfort.  I walk out of the room, and into Luke’s waiting arms.

The funeral is torture.  I feel like I’m suffocating the whole time.  It’s unbearably uncomfortable sitting in the front and receiving condolences from a long line of people.  Does everyone wonder what I’m doing up here with the immediate family?  I want so badly to make a run for it.  I keep an appropriate smile on my face while I’m screaming bloody murder on the inside.  If Megan and Talon can stand it, I sure as hell should be able to.  Talon is as still and remote as a statue; he stays silent and glued to his father’s side.  Poor little man.  He’s trying so hard to act tough right now.

Megan isn’t much better off.  She’s a lost little girl sobbing for her mother.  I think about how sad it is that her baby won’t ever get to meet its grandmother.  I’m sure that thought’s already occurred to her.  I was too young to think about things like that when my parents died.  I really don’t want to think about it now.

I last through to the reception for formality’s sake, and then I just can’t take it anymore.  I feel like I’m going to fly apart.  Luke takes me away without me having to ask.  We just drive aimlessly for a while.  Neither of us ate anything at the reception, so he goes through a drive-thru.  I’m surprisingly hungry, and devour my greasy fried chicken like it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever had.

We end up at the beach.  It’s dark out and there’s no one else in sight.  Luke spreads a blanket out on the sand, just beneath the overhanging bluffs so we’re sheltered from the light wind and the rest of the world.  We sit next to each in companionable silence, enjoying the sounds of the crashing waves.

After a while, Luke nudges my leg with his.  “You alright, Tiger?”

“Yeah.”  I dig my bare feet into the cool sand and pull Luke’s jacket tighter around my shoulders.  “I was just remembering when I was little, and I used to think that dolphins were reincarnated souls.  I saw one up close once at Sea World, and we just stared at each other through the glass for the longest time—I swear it was my dead great grandma looking back at me.”

He coughs out an absolutely adorable laugh as he turns to me.  “What made you think it was her?”

“She winked at me.”  I shrug nervously, keeping my eyes on the water.

“Can dolphins wink?”

Instead of answering him, I blurt out, “My parents didn’t die in a car crash.  They were murdered.”

I stare down at my fingers twisting together on top of my bent knees.  Before Luke can respond, words start pouring out of me in an inarticulate gush.

“This guy—he broke into our house one night when I was sleeping over at a friend’s.  He was a junkie.  He shot them while they were sleeping in bed.  He—he didn’t even steal anything.  He just emptied a clip into them—and then he sat in the kitchen until the cops came.  Yuna—our neighbor—called them when she heard the gun shots.  She was my mom’s best friend.  She was the one who came and got me, and she told me...She wanted me to live with her, but I didn’t like her.  I’m pretty sure she had a weird sexual thing going on with my parents.”

I finally look up at Luke.  His golden green eyes are focused intently on me like his life depends on it.  “The guy who did it?  He killed himself afterwards.  He shot himself in the head before the cops could take him down.  That’s somehow worse—that he’s dead, you know?   Because I don’t have anyone to hate for what happened.  I wish he were still alive and rotting in a prison cell so I could think about him sitting there—and think about the ways I could kill him if he ever got out.”  I let out a shuddery laugh.  “I guess that sounds messed up, huh?”