Fall: A Seaside Novel (The Seaside Series) (19 page)

I’d also been fielding phone calls most the morning from the crew that was currently at her house fixing things up. It seemed that the work wasn’t going to take any longer than a week, which was good considering her parents would be home soon.

The only crappy part of that whole scenario was that the faster they worked, the closer she was to leaving me — and going back to her house where she belonged. Pretty sure starting another fire would land me in prison.

My days and nights started flooding together. I’d wake up with her body pressed against mine, and I’d tell myself that the next night would be different, that I’d tell her — either tell her or let her go.

Then she’d do something so damn adorable that I couldn’t think straight.

We watched entire seasons of TV shows, ate breakfast every morning together. It was strange. I’d always thought that the day-to-day relationship stuff would end up scaring the hell out of me. Instead, it made me crave more.

Everything about being with her was exciting. Even making breakfast, even going into the bathroom and smelling her shampoo.

It wasn’t fair.

It had to end. I had to do something, because if she said Smith’s name one more time, I was going to freaking murder him.

It had been two weeks.

He texted her at night.

I hid her phone twice and lied about it.

Yes, I’d resorted to lying like a five-year-old in order to keep myself sane; I’d lied to myself about the whole thing. What we were doing wasn’t normal, nor was it fair, but I was too selfish to change a damn thing.

****

“Morning, sunshine.” I threw a pillow at Pris’s face. She groaned and sent me a glare before slowly rolling out of bed. We’d fallen asleep on the couch watching movies again, arguing about why
Lord of
the Rings
was better than
Star Wars.

I was for
Star Wars
.

She was for
LOTR
.

I called her an immature toddler.

And in return I was called a grumpy ass-hat.

Just a typical evening for us.

“Tired,” she grumbled.

“I’ll make coffee.” I whistled to myself as I walked into the kitchen. A buzzing sound interrupted my happy mood. Her phone was on the counter, and it was her dad.

Shit. He’d skin me alive if he knew what I was doing.

“Pris!” I called. “Your dad!”

She ran into the kitchen and snatched the phone out of my hands. “Hey, Dad, is everything okay?”

Her smile was enormous; she asked questions about some orphanage in the Philippines and then smiled some more as her dad chatted her up on the other side.

“Love you too,” she answered and pressed End.

“Everything okay?” I scooted her coffee across the counter and waited.

She licked her lips and looked into her coffee. “I would do anything for my parents, even though I get annoyed that they’re constantly gone or doing things for others, selfish right? I guess sometimes I just, I don’t know…I miss being a family. Getting old sucks. But yeah,” Her voice was resolute. “I’d do anything for them.”

“Sounds like it.” I smiled as jealousy stabbed me in the chest. She had the most amazing family I’d ever heard of. A family that ate every meal together, went on trips every summer, a dad who really trusted her so much that he never even had reason to question her.

It was hard not to be jealous — to crave what she had, and to be pissed at myself for tainting it.

With a sigh, she lifted the cup to her lips. “They said the orphanage is doing really well, and they’re flying back into the country to go to Seattle and see my sister, then driving back.”

“Soon.” My heart dropped.

Her eyes met mine. “Few days.”

I had a few days to play house before whatever we had was gone. I tried to keep my face emotionless, tried and failed as she reached across the counter and put her hand over mine. “I just want you to know…”

Oh great, another friend talk.

“You’re one of the best people I know… I just… I love your heart. That’s all.” With a shrug she picked up her coffee and walked back toward the shower… While I sat down and grinned smugly into my mug, maybe things would turn out after all.

I just needed to get my shit together, murder Smith, and try not to get run over by her dad’s car when I asked him for permission to date his daughter.

****

“You’re sure in a good mood.” Evan breezed into the room, threw on his jacket and snatched the keys from the counter.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” He smiled. “It’s my half day.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not leaving you alone. Smith comes in on Wednesdays to help.”

“Oh good, maybe we can take our pants off and see whose is bigger.”

“Right.” Evan snorted. “You’d probably lose anyway.”

“What the hell, man!”

“Kidding!” He waved goodbye and walked out the door. It wasn’t but five minutes when Smith came waltzing into the place like he owned it.

Which I guess in a way he did — or his family did.

He was talking on his cell. “I can’t wait to see you either, baby.”

And good mood gone.

“No, no, it’s fine. I think it will be good to talk.” His eyes narrowed. “Listen, I told you not to worry about her, we’re just hanging out…”

My ears perked up. What the hell? Was he cheating on Pris?

“Love you too.”

Holy shit. I was seeing stars. If he was talking to Pris I was going to jump off a cliff and impale myself on the sharp rocks.

“Bye.”

He tucked the phone back in his pocket and walked around to the cash register.

“So.” I cleared my throat. “Got a few girls on the side?”

“Shit.” Smith jumped a foot. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

“Depends.” I closed the distance between us. “Do you always cheat?”

“I’m not cheating.” He rolled his eyes. “I like Pris, she’s been a great distraction.”

“Distraction?” Seriously. Where did they keep the effing guns in this place?

“And maybe.” He shrugged. “It could turn into more, you know? But…” His eyes went all hooded and lazy like he was high. “My ex is in town and she… she wants to talk. I love her. I’ve always loved her. You don’t just get over your first love like that.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said crisply.

He snorted. “That’s because you’re like the tin man, you possess no heart.”

“Coming from you? That’s rich.”

“Look, GQ, I don’t know what crawled up your ass and died, but it’s my business. Who the hell cares if I date Pris while I try to see if there’s something still there with my ex? I owe it to myself to find out. Hell, I owe it to Pris to find out. It’s not fair that I’m dating her and still half in love with Ang.”

“Ang?” I repeated in a low voice. “Short for,” I coughed. “Angelica?”

“You know her?” He smirked. Did the guy seriously not watch TV?

“Yeah,” I said casually. “I knew her. I used to bang her.” His eyes turned murderous, so I added, “A lot.”

“Funny.” His jaw clenched tightly. “She never mentioned you.”

“YouTube it. We made a sex video.” The lie fell easily from my lips.

That did it, he lunged for me, but luckily his cell phone rang. Swearing, he grabbed it and pasted a smile on his face.

“Hey, beautiful.”

I flipped him off.

“Sure Pris, actually I’m kind of busy tonight, but lunch would be great.”

That was it. I was going to set his car on fire.

Or put it in neutral and push it down a hill.

“Sure, sweetie. Miss you. Bye.”

“You’re a bastard.” I shook my head in disgust.

“Says the guy whose claim to fame is how many chicks he can bag in one night.”

“You forgot the million dollar movie deals.” I tilted my head. “And the one Oscar nom, but it’s cool. I know it’s hard to keep track of all the details when the list is so long.”

Smith’s smile was terse. “Look, I don’t care who you are or how much money you have, you know as well as I do that you’re the worst sort of guy for her.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but he kept talking.

“Jaymeson, you’re a movie star. You don’t belong here. She does. Leave her alone. Let her go to college, let her get married, get a dog, get fat and pregnant, have kids… massage her husband’s feet after a long day at work…” His grin turned smug. “Let her have that life and you go back to your whores.”

“Who says she wants that life?”

“Doesn’t every girl?”

“Do you even know her?” I all but yelled. “The
last
thing she wants is to be home rubbing some bastard’s feet!”

“Leave it.” Smith’s voice was hard, unyielding. “How long are you even here for? A few weeks? A month? And then you’ll be… where? Across the world shooting a movie?

“And where will Pris be? Here.” A satisfied grin slid over his face. “With me. So sure, if you want to throw your chips in, give it a shot. Go ahead and try, just know that when you leave, I’ll still be here. When you’re off making your millions, I’ll have the one thing you want.

“Her. In. My. Bed.”

My body shook with anger. “I should kill you.”

“Do it. It wouldn’t change things, Jaymeson. She’d still hate you. Regardless of the choice you make… I win.”

“She isn’t a damn prize!” I shouted. “She’s—”

“—mine.” He clipped. “Not yours.”

The bell to the store chimed. Pris walked in wearing a long black cardigan with leggings and boots. “You guys look all flustered. Everything okay?”

“Brilliant.” I stormed away from both of them and nearly sent the back door flying off its hinges as I made my way outside and sat on the steps.

Now would be a good time to start smoking.

But I hated the smell.

And drinking — not really an option on the job, plus I guessed Peter wouldn’t be thrilled. It wouldn’t exactly help my image.

As if I needed reminding of why I was really in Seaside, the phone went off. “Jaymeson?”

“What’s up, Peter?”

“He wants you.”

“What?” I whispered, my heart racing. “Who does?”

“Danny Erickson. Pre-production starts in two weeks, but he wants you to do a casting video.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” I could practically hear Peter’s smile on the other end. “I found it hilarious as hell.”

“Notice I’m not laughing.”

“Hey, you want the part? You do the video. I’m e-mailing you the section of the script he wants you to recite. Don’t screw up. Send it back as soon as you can.”

“Fine.”

“Hey, sound happier. If all goes well, you’ve just gotten another huge break, Jay.”

“Right.”

We hung up.

Within seconds, I received the e-mail.

Cringing, I opened up the attachment and almost threw up.

Scene: Harley wants Zach, but he’s afraid of what it will mean for their relationship if he crosses the line
—
there’s no going back. He’s afraid his darkness will consume her. He’s from the wrong side of the train tracks
—
and she has everything. A bright future, a rich family, a college scholarship. He would just drag her down. He goes to her house to tell her he can’t see her anymore. His heart is breaking.

Harley:
Zach? What are you doing here! (
Harley’s surprised but excited to see Zach
)

Zach:
(
Doesn’t make eye contact
) I needed to talk to you. Do you have a minute?

Harley:
(
opens door and lets him in
) Sure. Come on, my parents aren’t home so we can talk in the living room.

Zach:
(
follows Harley, his face contorting with sadness as he takes in her house one last time
) We can’t see each other anymore.

Harley:
(
confused
) What do you mean?

Zach:
I can’t be your friend.

Harley:
(
steps closer to Zach and reaches out to touch his arm
) Why? I don’t understand.

Zach:
(
laugh without humor, look around the room, look at everything but her
) You wouldn’t. How could you?

Harley:
What’s that supposed to mean?

I quickly exited out of the script and looked down at my shaking hands. Was this some cruel joke? I had never read the books, but I’d had no idea how familiar that particular script would sound to my own life.

“Jaymeson?” Smith called from inside.

Reluctantly, I walked back into the building to face the firing squad. “Yes?”

“We’re off to lunch. Think you can handle things while I’m gone?” Yeah, probably not. So far there had only been ten or fifteen fans that had come in asking for autographs. For the most part, people stayed away, which I can only assume was because they’d gotten their fill of me when I filmed the webisodes earlier that year.

“I’m sure I can manage.” I smiled at Pris. “Good day today?”

She nodded, but was quickly shielded by Smith. “Later.”

“Asshole,” I muttered then walked over to the cash register and pulled out my phone. At least I had Jamie Hudson. Smith might not know it, but I’d been on every date he’d had with her. And I wasn’t about to back off.

Especially now that I knew his ex was the Spawn of Satan.

An idea — a terrible one came to mind.

I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t involve myself.

Cursing, I quickly dialed the number I’d come to memorize for self preservation.

It rung twice. “Hello?” I swear my body full on trembled then threatened to puke up all contents of my stomach at the sound of that woman’s voice. I wondered if it was similar to the reaction people had when getting audited.

“Angelica.”

“Asshole!” she greeted. “What’s up?”

“How’s life?”

She snorted. “Yeah, let’s not play around. What do you want? I’m driving.”

“Smith, I don’t know the asshole’s last name, just Smith, you know like Beyonce.”

She sighed then answered,“…yeah?”

“He’s your ex?”