Celeb Crush (37 page)

“That was your fault,” I snort.  “You shouldn’t have stuck it in my face.”

“Hey, I only waved it around.  Not like I poked you with it.  There was no—”

Nate stops so abruptly that I walk right into his back.  “Ow,” I mutter, rubbing my nose.  “Why did you…?”
I peer around him to see Luke standing there, blocking the hallway.  His eyes go from me to Nate, his body still as a statue, and his face just as expressionless.

Nate immediately jumps behind me.  “Luke—dude, before you kill me, I swear to you—” he says in a high panicked voice.  “It was just the tip!”

A muscle in Luke’s jaw twitches as he tries not to laugh.  I reach behind me and punch Nate who grunts dramatically.  “Nate was having sex with Antoine Lewis’ wife,” I tattle.

Luke’s eyes widen and he turns to his friend.  “Antoine’s gonna kill you.  I told you to stay away from Erin—what the hell were you thinking, man?”

“Dude, she’s hot—and she came onto me!”  Nate ducks behind me once more when Luke goes to smack him in the head.  “You were right about her tits, though.  Fake as hell.”

Luke and I both freeze.  Nate, seeing his opportunity, makes a break for it.  I barely notice him running for the stairs.  "Thanks, Nate," Luke mumbles.  "You asshole."

My mouth is suddenly dry, and I can feel my heart beating rapidly in my throat.  I stare up at Luke.  “Explain,” I say, my tone dangerously calm.

He shakes his head quickly.  “She hit on me at Eyan’s birthday party—but it’s not—”

“That was two weeks ago.  Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because other than her being Antoine's wife, it wasn't a big deal.”  Luke rolls his shoulder back in annoyance.  "It was just another pair of tits."

He says this with the unimpressed air of a seasoned Beverly Hills plastic surgeon.   And yeah, he's probably seen as many breasts as one.  I lean against the wall for support, considering his words.  “What happened?”

“Nothing.  She cornered me in the bathroom.”

“And?”

Luke averts his eyes, nervously rubbing his jaw.  “She followed me in there and took off her dress.  She didn’t have anything under it.  I told her no thanks—then she left.  End of story.”

I sag against the wall, the anger flaring bright and hot in me.  “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

He sighs, exasperated.  “You really want me to tell you every time something like that happens?  You think that’s gonna help anything, Andi?”

“No,” I snap through clenched teeth.  “I don’t want to hear about some naked chick throwing herself at you a hundred and twenty-seven times a day—because it happens all the freaking time!”

“Well, what do you want me to do?!”  Luke leans into me, his gaze searching mine.  “How can I make this better?  Tell me what I can say to get you to trust me—because I don’t have a fucking clue!”

“It’s not about trust, asshole!”  My frustration matches his.  I lean my head back against the wall, rolling my eyes briefly to the ceiling.  “Do you think this is easy for me?  My boyfriend has tits and pussy thrown at him constantly—so excuse me if I feel a little fucking insecure at times!  I think I’m entitled to random fits of hostility.  Fucker!”

Luke just stares at me incredulously for a few seconds.  Then a sensuous grin starts to tug at the corners of his mouth.  “You kiss your grandma with that mouth of yours?”

He brings his hand up, his warm callused palm caressing my cheek while he his thumb glides teasingly over my bottom lip.  Naturally I snap at him, scowling when he laughingly pulls his hand away in the nick of time.

“Keep laughing like that and I can tell you one thing my mouth won’t be kissing any time soon,” I mutter.

“Oh, yeah?”  Luke places his hands on the wall above my head, his body just inches from mine.  His eyes glimmer with liquid gold heat.  “I bet I can change your mind.”

Lust sings through my blood.  I force myself to ignore the painful need to press myself against him, and try not to inhale his sexy all-male scent.  I can’t let his hotness fuck with my completely justified anger.  Damn his sexual voodoo.

With superhuman effort, I push him away.  “Don’t.” I scowl at him.  “We need to talk about this.”

Luke’s face hardens for a second.  He scowls back at me before taking a couple of deep breaths; then he nods.  “What do you want me to do?” he repeats his earlier question, but in a much softer tone.

“I don’t know,” I admit after a brief silence.  A bitter laugh escapes me.  “All those girls are nothing new.  I watched them fall at your feet for the past couple of years.  I know that it’s not your fault; it’s a part of what and who you are.  But I hate that it happens.  It drives me crazy, and I can’t do anything about it.  I just don’t know—I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Hey—come on.”  He presses a soft kiss in my hair.  “Look, I get it—and you’re right.  It’s not fair, and it sucks that you have to deal with it.  You don’t even know what I want to do to all the guys who stare at you like they want to eat you up."

I ponder this for a moment.   "Like you want to drag them by their shiny hair to, like, a pet store—and rub their faces in the bottom of all the hamster cages?"

"Hm, no...I'm not that creative.   Mostly I wanna beat the shit out of them."

“You don’t think that’s how I feel?”  Emotion leaks unexpectedly into my voice, and I smack his chest.  “I hate this.  I hate it!”

Luke tries to gather me into his arms again, but I pull away sharply.  He locks his hands behind his neck, that hard line appearing between his brows again.  “How can I make it better for you, Andi?  I’ll do anything you want…but the bottom line is you’re going to have to trust me.”

“You want me to trust you?” I scoff.  “Then don’t fucking go behind my back and have secrets little talks about our relationship with girls you’ve slept with!”

His eyes flash dragon green at me.  “It wasn’t like that.  I only asked Kat if she could try to get along with the girl I’m in love with.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel totally pathetic that you had to beg her to be nice to me.”

Luke looks to be on the verge of exploding—but then visibly restrains himself.   He stares down at the floor.  "Are we always going to be fighting over my friendship with her?" he asks quietly.   His head comes up and his eyes meet mine steadily.  "Just say the word.  I can cut her out.  Keep things strictly professional."

I immediately wanna scream out “Yes!” while doing a victorious moonwalk down the hallway.  But, no.  I know a catch-22 when I hear one.  Kat would become the proverbial forbidden fruit, and I’d be the hag that Luke ends up resenting.

I sigh wistfully.  “Keep your little friend.  And I don’t need you running interference for me.  I can handle Kat on my own.”

“Okay.”  He shrugs his agreement.  “Fair enough.”

“Fine.”  I nod stiffly.

I go to maneuver past Luke to head for the stairs, but he grabs my arm, turning me to face him.  “Hey,” he says huskily.  “I’m with you.  Why the hell would I want anyone else?”

I force a smile to my face.  I guess it’s not a very good attempt, because he sees right through it.  He cups the back of my neck with one hand, and brushes my hair away from my face with the other.  I can't avoid his magnetic gaze and find myself falling into those endless emerald and gold depths.

“I’ll never hurt you, Andi,” Luke says, his voice low and intense.  “I swear it.”

I really do want to believe him, but I can’t help the cynical smile that forms on my lips.  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I whisper.

I don’t know why I insist we go back outside when I really just want to go home, and fall face first into a tub of ice cream.  I feel like the tension is obvious between us, and there are too many people here that want to exploit that. 

Like Kat.  Practically the second we step into the backyard, she attaches herself to us like a barnacle.  I can’t help but admire the way she manipulates every conversation so that I’m left out.  She’s clever about it, though.  She asks me questions every now and then, and based off my answers she somehow segues into entertaining anecdotes involving her and Luke.  I fall asleep standing up as Kat goes into detail about the hilariously disastrous first time they did a love scene together.

Fortunately, Luke is a very popular guy.  People keep coming over to talk to him, thwarting Kat’s plans of monopolizing his time.  Everyone is fairly nice to me.  I know most of them from before, but now that my relationship with Luke has changed, it’s like meeting them for the first time.  They’re curious about me.  I’m bombarded with insultingly personal questions—from the females, at least.  Celebrities are weird.  Most of them don’t really see a person until that person becomes important to them in some way.  Then you wish you were invisible again.

Luke is one of the rare few who don’t treat people according to what they can do for him.  He’ll talk to a key grip the same way he talks to Mae Wiltie, the actress who plays Kat’s mother, and a true Hollywood legend.  He really is the most genuine guy I know.

Listen to me.  You’d think I really like him, or something.

It’s not as painful an experience as I thought it would be.  I let down my guard a little and enjoy talking to Damon and Eyan, and some of the other guys I’ve hung out with before.  Luke is always within arm’s reach.  I catch him watching me interact with his friends, an approving smile on his face.  Finally I’m doing something right.

We decide it’s time to call it a night when I demonstrate my spinning back kick and it takes down a young sapling in the backyard.  Fortunately, Damon and Lila are too impressed with my skills to be mad.  Luke is looking for Kat to say goodbye.  I spot her, half-hidden behind a giant rose bush, having a heated conversation with Jessica, of all people.  I briefly entertain a little scenario where the two are secret lesbian lovers…but I figure it’s more likely that Jessica is trying to lure Kat away from her longtime publicist.

“Shit,” Luke mutters, searching the patio area for signs of Kat.  He glances down at the phone in his hand.  “Do you see her anywhere?”

I casually avert my gaze from the two arguing women.  “Nope.  Can we go now?  My foot hurts.”

I throw in a little limp to seal the deal, and it works like a charm.  Luke actually carries me bridal style to the car.  I would have really enjoyed it if the paparazzi hadn’t been there to ruin the moment.  Was it really necessary to shout out that they can see my underwear? 

Assholes.

Chapter 31

“You’re crying again.”

I sit up in bed, wiping my wet and bleary eyes.  “I’m not crying.”

Luke sits next to me in all his shirtless glory, sculpted golden muscles in full view.  He gently wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.  “You have another dream about your parents?”

I curl up into a protective little ball.  “Yeah,” I say finally.  “It was nice.  I was shopping at this grocery store in Boise, and they kept walking past me, holding hands.  My mom kept turning back to smile at me.  And Aunt Susan was there, but she looked really young—like pictures I’ve seen of her when she was around my age.”

He rests a warm comforting hand on my knee.  “What was she doing?”

“She was feeling tomatoes.  She looked really happy.”  A small laugh escapes me.  “Isn’t that weird?”

He smiles.  “Sounds…peaceful.”

I mull that over before nodding my agreement.  “Yeah, it was.  I don’t know why I’ve been dreaming of my parents so much lately—it’s strange.  To be honest, I haven’t really thought about them in years.    And the dreams are…we’re just doing normal things.  Going to the park in Boise.  Doing laundry at home.  It’s kind of random, but nice.  What do you think it means?”

Luke starts to rub my knee in small soothing circles.  He gives a half shrug.  “I don’t know, Tiger.  Maybe you’re ready to start remembering them again.  You know?  Think about the good times you had instead of focusing on the bad ones.  That was why you were seeing Dr. Pawlak, wasn’t it?  Because you wouldn’t let go?”

I drop my eyes, focusing on a loose thread on the sheet.  Without looking at him, I confess, “After it happened, I tried to imagine the—the way they died.  How much pain they went through; how scared they were.  I pored through every news article about it.  I made myself think about it constantly.  It was like I needed to suffer through it—like I could be there with them.  It made me feel closer to them in some weird twisted way.”

“You were trying to punish yourself because you’re alive when they’re not.”

I look up to see the understanding in his face.  “I was really fucked up there for a while,” I admit.

“What happened to them was fucked up,” he says firmly.  “You survived it the way you needed to.”

I acknowledge his attempt to make me feel better with a small nod, though I’m inwardly grimacing, remembering the horrible teen I was.  “I got better.  After a while, I refused to let myself think about it.  In my mind, they died peacefully in their sleep due to a carbon monoxide leak in their hotel room—on their second honeymoon in Fiji.  I told people it was a car accident, though.  Seemed more plausible.”

“Good call.  I’ll give you points for the first one, though.  Dying in each other’s arms.  It’s got style.”

A secret smile creeps across my face because that’s how I’ve decided Luke and I will go out.  I’m not going to tell him that, though, because I’ve come to recognize that some of my fantasies are not socially acceptable.  Or legal.

Clearing my throat, I decide to change the subject.  “Do you ever miss your dad?” I blurt out.

Luke looks taken aback by the sudden shift in his direction.  I can see him start to blow me off by formulating a glib reply, but then he stops himself.  “Uhh…I’m not sure how to answer that,” he confesses.  He leans back slightly, running a hand over his head.  “You know I was on my own since I was fifteen.  That was the last time I saw him.  When he died…I didn’t even make it to the funeral.”

He says that last part casually, but I can tell it bothers him.  “He didn’t exactly sound like the greatest dad,” I say hesitantly.

Luke angles his body so that he's facing away from me.  He gives a small shrug.  "Yeah, he was an asshole.  But he did the best he could."

I can't help the disbelieving look on my face right now.  "Is that really what you think?" I ask incredulously.

Luke gives another careless shrug, his gaze turning inward.  "He really loved my mom, y’know?  And she was just using him until something better came along.  She was his whole world...and when she left, it broke him.  He turned really hard after that—like he couldn’t ever let himself get attached to anyone like that ever again.  Not even me.”

Oh, my god.  That’s how I’m going to be when Luke leaves me.  I’ll be as crazy straws as the elder Mr.  Greyson was.   They say a girl chooses a guy who’s like her father—does the same go for guys as well?

“That’s insane,” I say with a weak laugh.  “To let someone have that much power over you?  You’re just asking for trouble…right?”

He turns his head to look at me, his expression inscrutable.  “Yeah,” he says softly.

Silence ensues.  I clear my throat nervously.  “So, your mom.  Was she always a selfish bitch?”

Luke is mildly amused, wrinkling his nose at my bluntness.  It’s so cute and sexy I could squee.  And I don’t even know what that means.  I think it has something to do with female ejaculation.  I don’t know what that means either.

  “She had her moments,” Luke is saying.  “She stopped using when she found out she was pregnant with me.  She managed to stay clean for a few years after that.  I remember…I was a little kid, and I had asthma—when I had a hard time breathing, she used to sleep with me on the couch, and sing to me.  She had a real pretty voice, you know?  Like, maybe she could have done something with it if things had worked out differently.”

He smiles in that absent way that people do when they’re trying to pretend what they’re saying doesn’t hurt like hell.  I wish I was the kind of person who knew the right thing to say to make him feel better.  When Bran's cousin died, I bought him an Ouija board.  Right now, all I can think of are insults to his mother.  I guess that wouldn’t be very supportive.  Come on, dummy.  Think of something constructive to say.

I can’t come up with shit, so I scoot closer to him, and hesitantly put my hand on the zipper of his jeans.  Sex cures any guy’s deep seated pain, right?

Luke glances down at my hand on his crotch.  He picks it up and gently places it on his leg, keeping his hand over mine.  He doesn’t comment on my disturbingly bad comforting skills—for which I am extremely grateful.

I clear my throat again.  “That loser blamed you, didn’t she?” I say.

He rumbles out a deep chuckle, staring down at our entwined fingers. “I know you think she was a shitty mother—but she was still my mom.  She had it rough when she was young.  Her parents kicked her out of the house—and my dad was no saint, either.”

I scramble to my knees, shifting so that he’ll look up at me.  “Just because she gave birth to you doesn’t make her family,” I tell him firmly.  “You don’t owe her anything, Luke.”

“I know.”  The morning light filters through the window, setting his golden green eyes ablaze.  He reaches up to cup my cheek with the palm of his hand.  “You and Nate—you’re my family.”

“Does that make Nate our bouncing baby man-child?”  I fake a grimace.  “I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“Aw, that’s no way to talk about Junior.”

Before I can respond, Luke leans forward and plants a heart-stopping kiss on my open mouth. Yum, he tastes like mint toothpaste.  Hopefully, I taste like chocolate.  I keep candy on the bedside table.  In case I wake up hungry during the night.

“Speaking of Nate—I’m late for a meeting with his old man,” Luke says, getting up.  “You see that black shirt I laid out last night?”

“Yeah, it’s hanging up in the bathroom,” I tell him.

I lie back down, reaching for Deadeye and resting him on my stomach.  I watch as Luke disappears into the bathroom.   He comes back out buttoning the shirt I ironed for him last night.  I feel so lazy just lounging around in Luke’s favorite blue t-shirt while he’s up and about.  This is what it would be like if we were married.

What?  Married?  What the hell am I thinking?  I fly up to a sitting position again, eyes open wide and heart beating thunderously.  Where did that come from?

Luke grabs my foot, startling me.  “Hey,” he says with an amused grin.  “I’m going to run our idea by Ivan and Bri, see what they think.”

I shake my head slightly to clear my scattered thoughts.  “Um.  Okay.”

Luke sits back on the bed to put on his shoes.  He glances over his shoulder at me.  “Micah will be here to get you at three.  I’ll text you later, okay?”

I nod my head distractedly, my mind elsewhere.  That’s why I’m taken so off guard when Luke is suddenly on the bed in front of me.  Before I can say anything, he pushes me back with his body, forcing me to lie back down with him hovering over me. 

His eyes sparkle mischievously.  “Tell me you’ll miss me, Tiger,” he demands huskily.

I pretend to consider this, even as my arms reach up to lock around his neck and bring him closer.  “I might.”

“You might, huh?”

He slowly lowers himself over me, torturing me with light brushes of his body against mine.  I grab his head and yank him down.  Our mouths crash together, both fierce and tender somehow.  I can feel his hand slip under my shirt and smooth over my rib cage, and up to my breast where he draws lazy circles around its peak.  I cup the hard bulge in his pants in response.  I’m useless at playing hard to get with Luke.  The second he touches me, I just about come.

“Hmm,” he murmurs, trailing kisses down my neck.  “Keep this up and I just might blow off Ivan.”

“You keep it up, and I just might blow you,” I retort, and he utters a laughing groan.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that right?”  Luke growls deep in his throat, a sound so sexy I can’t hold back my own sound of regret.  “Shit, I gotta go.  You’re gonna pay for this later, Tiger.” 

“Promises, promises,” I taunt, running my hands over his hard chest.

We make out for a few more intense minutes before Luke reluctantly pulls away.  He hurriedly finishes getting dressed, cursing along the way. 

My smug grin stays on my face even after Luke leaves.  I’m glad we were able to end that serious conversation on a horny note.  I really have no problem basing our relationship on sex—nay, I’m far more comfortable that way.  I don’t want the…responsibility of something deeper. 

But then why do I find myself with this burning insatiable curiosity to know everything about him?  Even worse, I want him to know more about me.  The real me.  The obsessive freak.  The one he’s already caught glimpses of throughout our tumultuous ups and downs.

My smile fades completely when I come to the conclusion that I’m setting myself up for disaster.  What if I start to care about hurting him more than I care about him hurting me?  I don’t know.  I think that’s already happened.  Damn it, this relationship thing is more complicated than I bargained for.  It was so much easier with Bran.  Hmm…I wonder if that has anything to do with why he cheated on me?

I’ll have to think on this more.

After my workout and a quick shower, I sit down at my laptop to do research for the project Luke and I were talking about last night.  He wants to start a non-profit organization benefitting foster kids here in the U.S.  I suggested creating a network of resources for them, specifically tailored to each individual, and providing them with guidance and financial support to help them achieve their dreams.  Luke loved the idea, immediately deciding I should spearhead the project, and we started brainstorming.

I'm actually pretty excited about it.  I know I probably come across as a bit self-involved—but there are some things I care about.  I feel energized just thinking about the life-changing things that can be accomplished with the help of Luke’s star power and bank account.  I have a purpose now—something that could mean a lot to kids who have never had enough people rooting for them.  They didn’t have an Uncle Charlie and Aunt Susan to take them in like I did.  Kind of makes me realize just how lucky I was.  Am.