Flirting With Fame (Flirting With Fame) (13 page)

The door had been carved from a deep-grained wood and I slid my fingers across its surface, grinning as it rose and fell beneath my flesh. I turned the handle and slipped into the dim cabin. It took a few minutes for my eyes to become accustomed to the lack of light in the small space, but soon, I could make out the long dinner table and rolls of maps piled in the corner.

A movement to my left caught my eye. I eased forward, squinting at the abundance of furs. I clapped my hand over my mouth.

A bear.

Somehow a bear had gotten into the cabin. And I was alone with it. I took a step back, almost colliding with a spotlight. I wrapped my shaking hand around the stem and found the power switch. White light filled the room, bringing the shadows into focus. At the exact same moment, the pelts fell to the floor, revealing the deep honey of perfectly tanned and toned skin. The creature turned and I gasped.

So . . . not a bear, then.

It was Gavin Hartley.

And he was naked.

“
E
lise?”

I probably should’ve focused on Gavin’s lips after he asked the question, but my eyes roamed lower of their own accord. Past his toned shoulders, down his well-defined abs and . . .

Well, then.

No wonder the man got all the women in Hollywood. Michelangelo would’ve wept at Gavin’s form and tossed David right into the Tiber River before retiring to the Italian countryside for good.

I licked my lips. “Uh, so sorry. I came in here to be alone for a second.”

I ordered my eyes to move back to his mouth, despite their insistence at remaining focused on . . . other areas.

“No problem,” Gavin said. “I was just cleaning off the sand. Turns out, it gets everywhere.”

“Right. I can . . . yeah . . . I see that.”

He grabbed the furs from the floor, giving me a perfect view of his behind. It was almost as good of a sight as his front.

I took another step backward, the back of my head colliding with the spotlight. “Ow. Shit.”

Gavin tugged up his costume and I exhaled with a combination of relief and disappointment.

He stepped around the table and touched my shoulder. “You okay?”

Was I okay with seeing last year’s sexiest man alive naked and glistening with sweat? Yeah, I was pretty okay with that.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Though I feel like I’ve been saying that a lot lately. I seem to always get hurt when you’re around.”

“So you’re saying it’s me?”

“It’s a working theory.”

His hand remained on my shoulder. He trailed his fingers up my neck and touched my chin. Despite the warmth of the cabin, I shivered.

“I’d never want to be responsible for hurting you, Elise.”

Gavin was so close I could feel the heat pulsing off his body. My breath came out ragged as he studied me. He still smelled like cinnamon—which was exactly how I thought of him, a perfect combination of spicy and sweet.

My heart jumped in so many directions it felt like it was on a trampoline. His fingers traced my jaw and tilted my face to his. He leaned forward. He was so close, his breath whispered across my cheek and I could make out the minty traces of his toothpaste. All of a sudden, he dropped his hand and took a step back. He slumped onto the bench behind him.

Do you think I’m doing a good job on this show?
he signed.

I took a shallow breath and let it out slowly.
What do you mean?

I don’t think Aubrey is happy with me
as Dag. She never wants to talk about it. She’s sweet, and I know she likes me. But I can’t tell if she thinks I’m doing her character justice.

“Oh.” I sank onto the bench beside him, rubbing the back of my head where a small bump had already started to form. “Well, maybe she just doesn’t know how to talk about it with you. But I know for a fact Aubrey Lynch thinks you’re doing a wonderful job as Dag. You’re perfect.”

His lower lip twitched up. “Really? She’s told you that?”

I bit the inside of my mouth. It was insane—this amazing specimen of a human being feeling insecure about anything. But the doubt that lingered on his face ground my heart into little bits and turned the rest of me to mush. If I hadn’t been sitting on the bench, I might have dissolved into a puddle on the floor.

“Trust me. You’re everything she pictured for this role. Better than she pictured. She just . . . she just can’t tell you. She’s afraid to.”

“Aubrey doesn’t seem like a girl who’s afraid of anything.”

I glanced at the wall. My throat felt dry and tight in the confined space of the cabin. “She’s more afraid than you think.”

Gavin touched my chin and turned me to face him. “Are we still talking about Aubrey?”

“Yes,” I said. I had to tell him. None of this was fair. To him. To me. He had to know that the real person who wrote
Viking Moon
adored him and thought he was more than perfect. I’d just have to hope he’d understand. Besides, he’d already confessed to liking the author. All I needed to do was explain that it was me. Nothing to it. I took a deep breath. “We’re still talking about her. Because, Gavin, I’m—”

Gavin held up a hand to cut me off and turned from me suddenly, as something else caught his attention. I followed his gaze. The shape of a crew member filled the entrance.

Gavin touched my shoulder to get my attention.
I’ve gotta go. They need me.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Once again, I’d been so close. I licked my lips.
Of course. Go ahead.

He walked to the door and pulled it open before turning back to me. “You’re coming to the Halloween party on Friday, right?”

“I’m not really a party kind of girl.”

“You have to come,” he said. “It’s mostly the cast and crew. You’ll know almost everyone. Nothing threatening, I promise. Please say you’ll be there.”

“How can I say no when Gavin Hartley personally invites me?”

“You can’t.”

His grin was infectious and I found myself mirroring it.

“Okay, I’ll be there. Can I bring some friends?”

“Bring anyone you want. And don’t forget your costume.”

Gavin disappeared through the door and I was alone in the darkness. My entire body shook and I sank lower onto the bench.

For the briefest of moments, I’d thought Gavin was going to kiss me. Then I’d almost broken and told him all my secrets. For the second time that day. What was I thinking? Just because he liked my books? I could’ve wrecked everything. Stupid, stupid Elise. Besides, knowing who I really was wouldn’t have made a difference. I wasn’t the kind of girl movie stars fell for. I was the kind of girl who
wrote
about things like that happening.

I buried my face in my hands and closed my eyes as one other thing crossed my mind. Then I bolted up in my chair and moaned.

Shit. Now I needed a costume.

•   •   •

“I look like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
. You know, pre–rich guy makeover.”

“No way, Elise. You do not look like a hooker. Besides, the whole point of Halloween is to look like someone other than yourself.”

My and Reggie’s reflections disappeared as she spun me away from the mirror. I tugged at the hem of the tight skirt, willing it to stay at midthigh, where it was supposed to. I’d fought the skirt tooth and nail, but Reggie had insisted it was appropriate for a celebrity party, despite the fact that she’d never actually been to one.

I’d won the argument on the top, though. Instead of the tight, revealing V-neck number she’d chosen, I’d gone with a simple peach blouse that was sheer enough near the top to reveal the fancy straps of the pale pink bra Reggie had insisted I buy, but covered me enough that I wouldn’t be worried about showing off my scars in a room full of perfect people. I buttoned the top button, ignoring my roommate’s protests.

Reggie pulled my hair into a high ponytail, brushed one more layer of powder over my cheeks, and spun me back to face the mirror. I had to admit, she’d done a good job of accenting my features and hiding my flaws. The white scar down the side of my face was merely a whisper of light against my skin. If you weren’t looking closely, you might simply mistake it for a slip of the highlighter brush. To be safe, I pulled some tendrils out of the ponytail to frame my face.

My blue eyes popped with the addition of brown eyeliner smudged around the rims and my lips glittered with a baby-pink gloss that caught the light when I moved.

“I declare you fit to mingle with celebrities,” Reggie said to my reflection.

Veronica sat on my bed, painting her nails red and doing her best to pretend my roommate and I weren’t there. It seemed strange to me she’d insisted on getting ready with us. But when I’d suggested we meet at the party, her lips had taken on a pout I usually saw only around Gavin. I couldn’t help but wonder again at the state of her life. She lived alone, in a house that barely looked broken in. She had no photos of friends or family I’d seen, and despite the fact that she acted like she hated me, she was almost always around.

I’d tried to ask her about her family once on set, but she’d walked away as though she hadn’t heard me. The stiffening of her shoulders, however, hinted that she’d absorbed every word.

I compared our images in the glass. Veronica had chosen to dress as a sexy cat. In a black, body-hugging dress, with a tail pinned to the back and a pair of ears propped on her head, she was the very definition of last-minute costume. Annoyingly, she still somehow managed to look incredible.

She had left her hair down and lined her eyes with smoky grays and charcoals that would’ve looked perfect in a Cover Girl commercial. Six drawn-on whiskers flared from her nose and up her angular cheeks. Her long, lean legs emerged from the short dress and continued into a pair of black stilettos that made me imagine my own ankle twisting if I tried to walk in them. When Reggie handed me a similar pair, I groaned. I apologized to my feet as I slipped them on.

“Who am I supposed to be, anyway?” I asked.

“Betty from the Archie comics, of course!” Reggie said. “You look just like her!”

I tugged at my skirt again and she slapped my hand away. “I thought Veronica was the slutty one. Betty was the shy one.”

“Oh, please. Did you ever read those comics? They were
both
slutty.”

“I still don’t understand why I have to dress like
this
, and you can get away with your outfit.”

Reggie looked infinitely more comfortable than me in a long skirt and peasant blouse. She’d borrowed my hair straightener and her usually wild mane now shone past her shoulders. A pair of small Lennon-style sunglasses and a peace sign on her cheek completed the look.

“Yeah, Regan.” Veronica looked up from her fingertips. “What are you dressed as?”

“I’m a hippie, of course,” Reggie replied. “And it’s Reggie.”

“Hippy is right.” Veronica said. She must’ve mouthed it, as Reggie appeared to be oblivious. My roommate didn’t look up as she sat on her bed, trying to tie a headband around her forehead. I saluted Veronica with my middle finger in her defense.

Veronica opened her mouth to reply, but I was saved by the door opening behind her. I bit my lip to suppress a giggle as Clint sauntered into our room. With his brown leather jacket, bolo tie, and signature hat and boots, he looked like he’d walked off the set of
Dallas
. I half expected him to start trying to sell me oil or let us know our horses were parked out front.

Clint had jumped at the chance to be our designated driver for the party, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Reggie’s advances had started to get her noticed. His eyes landed on her before they swept the rest of the room.

“Ladies,” he said with a tip of his hat. “Y’all are looking lovely tonight, I must say.”

“It’s about time, cowboy,” I said. “And did you perhaps forget this was a costume party?”

“No need for costumes when you already got the perfect look,” he said.

“Point taken.” I glanced at the alarm clock on our desk. “We’d better go. We’re crazy late as it is.”

“Fashionably late,” Veronica corrected. She started out of the room without looking back and Reggie’s hand slipped into mine. I wobbled in the ridiculous heels like a newborn calf taking its first steps. I pulled my roommate closer to keep me steady.

“I can’t believe we’re going to hang out all night with Gavin Hartley and Leila Clarke!” Reggie said. “And who knows who else!”

At the mention of Gavin’s name, my stomach lurched a few times over, like an engine being choked. The image of his naked back seemed to be permanently imprinted on my mind. Not that it was such an awful image to have there. But it was certainly going to make having any sort of conversation with him awkward.

I swallowed and nodded as we left the building and headed toward the parking lot. “They’re nice. Not what I expected at all. Gavin is incredibly sweet.”

Veronica stopped and looked over her shoulder at us. “He is, isn’t he? He’s the perfect catch.”

Reggie’s hand tightened in mine. “He is,” she said. “I can’t believe you get to date him! It’s pretty awesome that the writer of
Viking Moon
and the star are together. It’s like a match made in heaven!”

My heart gasped in my chest and grew heavy as we piled into Clint’s truck. “Yeah, a perfect match,” I muttered. “Who would’ve thought?”

•   •   •

The stars of the
Viking Moon
series were put up in Fernbrooke’s nicest hotel for the duration of filming, which was where the Halloween party was being held. Considering we only had two hotels, “Fernbrooke’s nicest” wasn’t saying much. I braced myself to spend the night crammed into a tiny room, suffering from lack of oxygen and covered in sweat. To my surprise, they’d opened almost an entire floor for the party, so we were free to roam from room to room. This did nothing to ease the stuffiness, however, as the sheer quantity of guests far outnumbered the rooms on the floor.

People had clearly gone all out when it came to their costumes. The floor was filled with princesses and vampires, gypsies and animals. And about every version of sexy-something I could think of. Most of the costumes made my short skirt and blouse look like I’d come dressed in a parka and ski pants.