Celeb Crush (34 page)

Luke shakes his head.  “Anyone would feel the same way.”

“I’m sorry I lied about how they died.  I just…it was easier for me to pretend that—that—”

“Hey, it’s okay.”  He puts his hand over my trembling restless fingers, stilling them.  “Come here.”

He gathers me into his arms and I let him, inhaling his expensive cologne and wishing there was a way I could absorb myself into him.  I knew...deep down I knew I would become like this if I ever let myself go with him.

“I can’t talk about it,” I choke out.  “I hate remembering.”

I feel him kiss the top of my head.  “You don’t have to.  Megan told me.  But don’t be mad at her, okay?  She thought I already knew.”

“I’m fine.”  I gently extricate myself from him, wiping at my eyes though no tears have fallen.  I guess I used them all up.  “I can’t…I never really dealt with it, you know?  I just try not to think about them because when I do, I feel this—this terrible rage.  I don’t know what to do with it.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me, Tiger.  I get it.”  Luke gives me a look of complete understanding.  “You have to have an outlet for it, or it starts to fuck you up.  Hating someone takes up a lot of space.  It consumes you and closes you off so nothing else can come through.  You hold on to that hate too tight and you don’t have room for anything else.”

The way he says it—I know exactly what he’s talking about.  I stare into the green gold depths of his eyes, and they look like they hold the universe.  “So how do I get it out?” I ask in a low voice.

“You don’t.”  Luke gives a small shrug.  “Look, you can’t change the past.  It's pointless to waste even an ounce of energy on something you can't do anything about.   Instead of being bitter, be, passionate.  Live harder; be fearless.”

I’m quiet for a long time, staring up at the clouded sky.  “You want me to be more like you?” I finally ask.  I look back at him.  “Is that why you’re the way you are?”

Luke raises an eyebrow, moving closer to me.  “And how am I?”

“I don’t know.  You live your life at a hundred and twenty miles an hour,” I say in a rush.  “All the drinking, the suicidal hobbies…the sex.  It’s like something’s chasing you, driving you to push everything to the extreme.”

Luke holds my gaze for several intense seconds.  Then he looks away, shaking his head.  “I’m not running from anything, Tiger.  And I definitely don’t want to kill myself.  I just want to feel…free.”

I turn my body to face him.  “Being fearless makes you feel free?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

I study him, his beautiful profile, the way he seems so comfortable in his own skin.  The resting strength of him.  My smile trembles around the edges.  “I want to feel free, too,” I say softly.  “Right here, right now.”

I keep my gaze steady until Luke’s brow furrows in confusion.  Then his eyes widen.  “What, you mean—?”

“Yes.”

Luke lets out a shaky laugh, breaking eye contact.  “Andi.  This isn’t the right time or place.  We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

I shake my head.  Shrugging off his jacket, I get up on my knees, and very deliberately start to unbutton his shirt.  “I don’t want to talk.  Be fearless with me, Luke.”

“Come on, Tiger.  You’re not—”

I press my lips against his, cutting off his protests.  He immediately responds, putting his hands in my hair and tilting my head so he has better access to my mouth.  Our tongues entwine, and Luke lets out a muffled groan.

He leans back slightly, breathing hard.  “You sure you want this?  Right here, like this?”

“Let’s go a hundred and twenty,” I whisper, and reach for his belt buckle.

There’s no talking.  Just this frantic need to undress each other down to bare skin.  I need to feel all of him.  Hands, lips, teeth, tongue.  I can’t get enough, I want him everywhere.  We set a fast and furious rhythm that matches our pounding hearts.  I open my eyes, and all I see are stars.

This is what I want.  This is what I need.  On the night of my aunt’s funeral, on a public beach, with the one and only Lucas Greyson.  I can’t explain it, and I don’t want to.  All I know that this is exactly right for our first time.  We come together like we don’t have a choice, any sounds we make drowned out by the violent turbulence of the ocean.  At the end, he says my name over and over again, our minds and bodies entwined. 

It’s the most perfect moment in time.

Chapter 28

I hear New Zealand is absolutely beautiful.  I wouldn’t know.

I don’t leave the phenomenal villa Luke’s arranged for us to stay in.  For the whole month, I just shut down.  I’m in stasis mode at the moment.  I’m taking a year off from school; I have no plans, no thoughts for the future.  I’m not doing anything.  And I don’t even care.

The only time I come alive is when we’re having sex.  We don’t go anywhere, or do any of the things he talked about doing.  We barely even talk.  As soon as Luke walks back through the door, I launch myself at him.  Half the time we don't even make it to the bedroom.  Other people could be around, but we only ever notice each other.  Once, we forgot Nate was in the room with us—the pervert stayed quiet and got himself some popcorn to enjoy the show.  Fortunately Luke noticed and kicked his ass out before any clothes came off.

When I’m with him, I’m completely possessed by him.  It’s madness.  I can’t understand it.  Shouldn’t it be easier after you finally do it, and get rid of some of that sexual tension?  I’ve always understood that if you love someone, you never let them go until it kills one of you.  Or was it that you never let go until one of you dies?  Is this love?  It can’t be.  Love is hearts and rainbows, and dopey pink emotions.  This—whatever this is—is painful.  It’s got teeth and claws, and takes bites out of my heart.

Luke thinks that I’m going to follow him around the world, and he’s right.  He wanted me, and now he’s stuck with me.  I am done fighting it, and pretending that he’s not all I need in my life.  The only thing I’m certain I want for myself in the future is Luke.  I realize that I don’t have to give up my plans; I just have to adapt them a little.  And if it doesn’t work out with him, I will have my revenge.  I mean, I will let him go and wish him the very best.

We’re back in L.A. for about a week before Luke has to go to North Carolina to resume shooting.  I’m stuck in a hotel right now with Micah, thanks to the stupid paparazzi.  I guess I’ve been found out.  Luke is amazed that I’m handling it so well.  I’m taking the philosophical approach since I knew this would happen eventually. Besides, I haven’t gone out lately, and I know better than to look myself up on the internet.  It’s not that I don’t love being called a skanky, gold-digging, fame whore—because I kind of do.  I just don’t like seeing candid pictures of myself.  Fortunately for me, there are very few of those floating around in cyberspace at the moment.  I have never liked having my picture taken.  Also, I realize that the only interesting thing about me is my parents’ murder—and that it’s only a matter of time before they dig that info up.  If they do, they do.  I’m not going to read about it.

Micah is still pissed about the San Diego thing.  He’s been giving me the silent treatment, which is kind of hilarious from an ex-military, thirty five year old, grown man.  It’s okay.  I deserve it, and I enjoy the solitude.  I’m getting better, I hope.  I’ve been allowing myself to think about Aunt Susan, and my parents.  I look through old pictures on my laptop, and remember happier times.  God, I forgot how pretty my mom was.  People used to say we looked alike, but she had so much more personality and sparkle in her smile than I ever did.  There’s a picture of my dad and Uncle Charlie making faces at the camera—and it’s weird but when they’re side by side like that, you can easily tell who’s who.  My dad had a scar that looked like an extra dimple in his right cheek.  I can’t believe I forgot about that.

I should call Uncle Charlie.  I haven’t talked to him since the funeral.  Talon has been calling me a lot lately.  We talk about his upcoming birthday and starting school.  He mentions his mom now and then, but doesn’t like to dwell on her for too long.  I even text Megan and Bran a few times.  They’re both busy with classes at the nearby community college, and getting ready for the baby.  Bran tells me Megan is depressed, though she does a good job of hiding it.  I’m genuinely glad that she has him to take care of her.  I have no doubt that he’ll be there for her every step of the way.  It’s funny how things work out.  Not so long ago, I wished them nothing but chlamydia and misery.  While I’m not exactly doing cartwheels over the happy couple, I do hope they make it.

Want to hear something unexpected?  Ellen and Earl are getting married!  Earl had actually popped the question a few day before Aunt Susan got so bad, so she never got to tell everyone the good news.  They had originally planned to elope in Vegas at the end of the month, then with everything that’s happened; they decided to plan a real wedding for next year.  Both Luke and I are invited. I immediately accept on both our behalves.  You would think I would have had enough of weddings by now, but I think it will be an interesting event.  Hopefully it will coincide with a break in Luke’s filming schedule.

I stand in front of the full length mirror, studying my reflection.  My new strapless turquoise dress is a bit snugger than I anticipated, but it’s not noticeable with the silky white blouse I’m wearing over it.  I’ve put my makeup on and brushed my hair, congratulating myself for making the effort.

Is this appropriate attire for a star-studded barbecue?  I don’t care.  The only person whose opinion I care about is Luke’s—and he tells me I look good in everything.  I find it funny that he used to tease me about my sloppy clothes before we got together; now he keeps reassuring me that I don’t have to change my style for him.  Maybe it’s because he’s already seen me naked?

I give myself another once over before shrugging indifferently.  I slip on my strappy nude sandals and head out of the room to find Luke.

He’s pacing back and forth in the living room, phone glued to his ear.  I can see that he’s agitated as hell, that vertical line prominent between his brows.  Despite how upset he looks, I can’t help but take a minute to admire how gorgeous my man is.  His dark brown t-shirt is supremely casual—it sports the smiley face logo of a local surf shop.  Ooh, but it clings to his broad chest and sculpted abs whenever he moves, and the Cargos shorts he’s wearing hang temptingly from his trim hips.

He glances up when I stroll into view.  His expression immediately relaxes as he looks me up and down with an approving smirk.  I lean against the back of the couch and raise a questioning eyebrow at him.  He shakes his head slightly, looking exasperated.

“Yeah, go ahead.  I’ll look into it when I get the chance.  Thanks, man.”

Luke ends the call and roughly stuffs his phone into his pocket.  He closes his eyes briefly, and when he reopens them they seem to glow like radioactive gems.  “C’mere, you,” he rasps out, gesturing me over to him.

I immediately go over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist.  We hold each other close for a few precious moments before I feel his hands slide under my short dress to cup my ass.

“Mmm,” he murmurs in my ear.  “You look good enough to eat.  I think I changed my mind about the barbecue.  We could just stay here and have each other for dinner.”

I pull away from him, laughing.  “Oh, no you don’t.  You wanted me to go to this thing, so we’re going.  What was that call about that got you so upset?”

“Ah, nothing.”  Luke sighs, averting his eyes.  “My mom and her usual drama.  I’ll worry about it later.”

He gestures dismissively.  I hold my tongue.  It’s not my place to tell him that he’s a dumbass for putting up with her.  I’m sure deep down he knows.  Just as I know how pissed he’ll be when he finds out what I’ve been doing behind his back.

I grab Luke’s wrist and turn it over to check the time on his watch.  “It’s getting late.  We should go.”

“Hold on.”  His eyes gleam pure gold as he pulls me around to the front of the couch.  “We still have time for a snack.”

In an abrupt movement, Luke picks me up and sits us down on the couch, with me straddling him.  I feel his erection, immediately grinding myself against it, and he groans against my chest.

“Hurry,” I urge him, gasping when he sucks on me through the material of my dress.

Luke grins up at me.  “Impatient.”

“I guess we can be a little late,” I concede breathlessly, running my hands over the long sinuous muscles in his forearms.

“Little?” Luke chuckles as he efficiently frees himself from his Cargos.

He pulls my panties aside and enters me in one smooth thrust.  An embarrassing little whimper escapes me.  “No, it’s massive!”

We both start laughing…until the laughter turns to moans and sighs.  Holy shit.  Fire and gasoline.  Incendiary.  I will never be able to get my fill of him.  Is it possible to make love until you die?  Because, god help me, I think I’m about to find out.

We’re more than fashionably late by the time we finally leave our suite.  Luke won’t let me shower afterwards for twisted and possessive-male reasons—which makes me paranoid that everyone will take one look at me and know what I’ve been up to.  Plus, there’s that giant hickey just barely visible above my right breast—I have to button up my shirt to hide it.  I pay him back with a score scratches down his back—he won’t be taking
his
shirt off anytime soon. We ride the elevator down exchanging smug secretive smiles.  Luke’s good humor fades when he sees the swarm of photographers waiting for us in the valet area outside the hotel lobby.