Текст книги "To Love Jason Thorn"
Автор книги: Ella Maise
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 22 страниц)
She took another step toward him and lifted her hand, but then dropped it as both of her hands formed fists.
“Do I disgust you now? Is that why you can’t touch me?” Jason all but spit the words at her as his eyes took in her movements.
Claudia flinched and shook her head, her voice beaten and small. “I don’t want to hurt you any more.”
Jason dropped the papers and clasped Claudia’s wrists, lifting them up and pulling her against his chest in one quick move I wasn’t expecting. “You think your touch can hurt me? You killed me the moment you let me go in your heart, Evie.”
“Isaac,” Claudia murmured, and when she looked up at Jason, there were tears swimming in her eyes.
Holy cow! If only I had some popcorn and tissues.
“You were the one who left me,” she continued. “You broke my heart into so many pieces that I never fully recovered, Isaac. But none of it matters, does it? You aren’t here to stay. You will never stay.”
Whooaaa there!
That was most definitely not my dialogue. They had turned a perfectly romantic scene into a cheesy one.
She looked heartbroken.
I saw a teardrop fall from her eyes and Jason let go of her wrists as if they had burned him.
“I came back. I came crawling back to you,” Jason choked out. Leaning down, he cupped her cheeks in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Evie. You’re my only one.”
They both closed their eyes and rested their foreheads against each other’s.
“Take me with you,” she whispered into the silence. “Don’t leave me bleeding again. Don’t let them take you away from me.”
Jason kissed her nose, her eyes, and then drew back a few inches, his hands still holding her face. “Say you still love me, Evie. Give me the words.”
She stood up on her tiptoes and whispered her love for him against his lips. Then they were going at each other as if the world was ending.
Well, mine kinda ended anyway. I was supposed to watch this take place in front of my eyes two more times with two different actresses? What in the world had I been thinking when I’d told Jason I would love to come along?
Someone say cut, goddamn it!
Then it was over and they parted. Bryan thanked them and asked for another take from a different angle. I refused to watch it for the second time. Seeing the same scene in a movie set would be a different story, but in here, with only a few people around…it looked intimate, real. Each and every one of us was an outsider, intruding upon their moment.
Finally, Bryan was happy with what he got, and after thanking Claudia, they sent her away.
I watched the same thing happen with two other beautiful, very well known, very talented actresses. The third one, Lindsay Dunlop, pretty much blew it out of the park. Bryan asked her to do three different scenes with Jason. At the end of it all, they had their Evie, and Lindsay was smiling just as big as Jason.
Even though I wasn’t being specifically ignored or anything, I was still sticking out like a sore thumb sitting in the corner like that. I had a feeling I was just there because Jason Thorn had brought me in. They didn’t care that I was the author at all.
Feeling overwhelmed with the kisses, the acting, the words…I sneaked out of the room—not that I needed to sneak out. No one gave a damn about what I was doing.
I was digging into my bag looking for my phone when someone came around the corner and collided with me. I stumbled back.
A second of shock, then I yelped in pain.
I glanced down at my front and saw that my entire shirt was soaked with some kind of green liquid. It smelled like coffee, but it was green.
Scalding green liquid.
“Jesus! Are you okay?” someone asked.
“Oh, shit! Shit! Shit!” My eyes burning with tears, I dropped my bag onto the carpeted floor. Peeling the shirt away, I started to blow on my skin to find some relief.
Some girl came running to the guy’s side.
“Sir, is everyth—”
“Go get me something to clean her up with,” the guy snapped at the girl.
“Olive Taylor?” He softened his voice for me.
Hearing my name, I looked up and saw Keith, the exec with the bleached teeth, hovering over me.
“Oh. Hello,” I said, my lower lip slightly trembling. I peeked into my shirt and realized my chest was already red.
Wonderful.
The girl reappeared next to us and handed Keith a wet towel.
“Let me,” Keith murmured, taking a step toward me.
I was in too much pain to decline his help, so I pushed my hair out of the way and let him gently press the cold towel onto my skin.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “That feels great.”
He met my eyes and gave me an apologetic smile. He was probably in his mid thirties, but for his age, he looked good—minus the teeth situation. When he slowly reached the swell of my breasts, I swallowed and looked away.
Maybe a wet towel wasn’t the best solution, but it was working. For now. I still had to lose the shirt somehow. It was completely soaked through and right then competing in a wet t-shirt contest was not on my to-do list.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something, someone grabbed my wrist and I was wrenched away from Keith. My head jerked up and I saw Jason pushing me behind his back, glaring daggers at Keith.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing touching her?”
“Jason!” I gasped, a little belatedly. His hand was still around my wrist, but his touch was gentle.
Keith appeared calm, but upon hearing Jason’s tone, he raised his brows.
“Jason,” I said, tugging at his arm, trying to get his attention. “There is coffee all over me, he was trying to help.”
“It is smoothie, Olive,” Keith said looking at me with a small smile.
Hot smoothie?!
Seriously?
“By groping your breasts?” Jason growled. He looked down at me with his flushed face and I frowned up at him.
“Jesus,” he exclaimed when he finally dropped his eyes enough to get a look at me. “Jesus!” he repeated. Looking into my eyes, he asked, “Are you okay, little one?”
“I’ll be fine.” I looked at Keith over his shoulder and decided an apology was in order.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Thank you for your help.” I looked at Jason, lifted my arm, and eyed my wrist that was still in his grasp. “If you can let me go, I’ll just leave.”
He didn’t let me go, but at least his face wasn’t flushed with anger any more.
Glancing at Keith, he said, “Sorry, man. When I saw you two…I assumed wrong.”
“Understandable. She is your friend.”
Jason’s mouth tightened.
What in the world is going on?
“I hope we’ll see each other soon, Miss Taylor,” Keith said to me and walked away from us.
Jason dropped my wrist and gently brushed the hair that had fallen over my shoulders away from my chest.
“We’re going to the emergency room.”
“No, we’re not. What’s wrong with you?” I asked, genuinely curious. “He was helping me. What did you think he could be doing out in the open like this?”
He had the decency to look away.
“How can I help?” he asked instead.
I sighed. “You should go back in there, Jason. I was leaving anyway.” Again, I peeled the shirt away from my skin. If another Uber was close by, maybe I could make it back to the apartment without being seen by too many people.
“We’re done with the reading.” He put his hand on my back and urged me forward. “Let’s go. I should have an extra shirt in my car. We’ll look at the damage as you change and then decide if we’re going to the emergency room or not.”
“Fine, Mom,” I mumbled, and he gave me a dark look.
“Your car really looks adorable from the front,” I said, once we reached the parking lot.
“It’s a Venom GT Spyder, Olive. It’s not an adorable car.”
I shrugged behind his back. To me, the eyes and the small mouth looked adorable.
Unlocking the doors, he leaned in and reached for something behind his seat.
A gray t-shirt.
“Take off your shirt,” he said, straightening up and turning to me.
“What?” I gaped at him.
His fingers reached out to lift the hem of my shirt, but I slapped his hand away.
“What are you doing?” I hissed quietly as two girls hurried passed his car, their phones glued to their ears.
“Olive,” he started. “I need to see how bad it is. Take it off.”
His hands came at me again. I slapped his hand harder.
“You want me to take off my shirt out in the open?”
He met my eyes. “We’re in the parking lot. No one who isn’t supposed to be in here is allowed to be in here. No one will see you between the SUV and my car. Go on.”
He reached at me again.
So, naturally, glaring at him, I slapped his hand even harder.
This time he laughed.
“Don’t make me take it off for you, Olive. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Your car doesn’t even reach your chest, Jason. I doubt it will do much to hide me from sight.”
“Face the SUV. I’ll turn around and cover your back. Or we can go straight to the ER. Your choice.”
“No,” I snapped.
“Then do as I say.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re annoying.” After a short staring contest that only ended up making me hot, I was the first one to turn away.
Grumbling under my breath, I gingerly lifted my shirt off of my stomach and took it off. It wasn’t hurting as much as it had a few minutes before, but I wouldn’t say no to rubbing some ice cubes on my chest either. Dropping the shirt to the ground, I…
Shit! The extra shirt was still in his hands.
“Hand me the damn shirt,” I whispered, looking to my left to see if anybody was walking around.
“Why are you whispering?” he asked right over my shoulder, his hot breath tickling my neck.
The annoying-hot-jerk chuckled when I squealed and jumped around.
“You were supposed to turn around,” I accused him hotly.
His eyes dropped to my chest. His jaw hardening, he quickly looked up and away.
“What is that?” he gritted through his teeth.
Covering my breasts with my forearm, I snapped, “They’re breasts. What does it look like?”
Did he think they were too big? He probably did. I definitely didn’t have those small elegant breasts where you could go to bed without wearing a bra.
“Why aren’t you wearing something white and simple?”
Despite the stupid situation, I looked down at my chest and laughed. “Why do you care what I wear? And what is wrong with this one?”
He looked up at the sky. “It’s…it doesn’t…do anything. You can see through it.”
“So?” I asked.
“You aren’t supposed to wear stuff like that.”
“Says who? I’m sure you must’ve seen much better stuff than this.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “Just give me the damn shirt, Jason,” I said impatiently. “It wasn’t my intention to disgust you or embarrass you or whatever it is happening right now.”
“Disgust me?” His eyes shot back to my eyes. “Olive,” he said, taking a step toward me.
I cut him off before he could tell me something brotherly and piss me off, or—even worse—break my heart even more.
“Jason, there are people around. Please give me the shirt so I can cover myself.”
His jaw ticked, but he handed me his shirt, and I quickly pulled it over my head.
“Thank you.”
He took yet another step and I plastered my back against the SUV behind me. He lifted the shirt up, just a little. This time I didn’t slap his hand away. He’d already seen more of me than I’d been ready to show him.
He gently touched my stomach, then started running the back of his knuckles over my slightly irritated skin.
That thing that resides in your chest? Took wings and flew away.
The other thing that was in my skull? Turned to complete mush.
I sucked in a breath, my heartbeat suddenly slowing down to the point where I wasn’t sure if I was still alive or had stepped into heaven. When I lifted my head up, he was staring down at me—right into my eyes.
By then I was the perfect example of one of those ‘My body is ready’ gifs.
“It doesn’t look as bad as your…chest area,” he said, softly dropping the shirt over his hand.
He didn’t back away.
I didn’t look away.
His hand was still in there.
On my stomach.
Under my shirt.
Then he sighed and pulled it away. Suddenly I could breathe again.
Instead of begging him to take me right against the car like I desperately wanted to, I said, “I’ll be okay. I’ll put something on when I get home. It’s not as bad as it looks.”
He wasn’t happy, but he opened his car door and helped me get in.
Jason Thorn, my childhood crush and now movie star, had touched my stomach, gently, and I wasn’t hyperventilating.
Huh…
Maybe I was getting the hang of this obsession/love thing.
Chapter Thirteen Jason
It had been one hour since I’d dropped Olive off and I was once again sitting in Megan’s office, working on damage control. So far, I’d looked through twelve headshots, recognizing some of the girls while having no idea who the others were. The one thing I knew for certain: I didn’t want any of them.
“I’m starting to doubt your PR skills, Megan,” I said after dropping the photographs back on her desk.
She stared at me blankly as she took a sip of her green tea and slowly put it down on her desk.
“It’s been what? A month? Two months? You still haven’t decided on a girl, Jason. I’m not asking you to make a lifelong commitment here. Pick one so we can draw up a contract and move on from this.”
“I’m not marrying some bloodthirsty new actress who will be in this just to get more exposure. I’m not signing on to carting her around to events and all this publicity crap. Marrying her will be enough torture on its own.”
She tilted her head. “Why exactly do you think we’re doing this, Jason? It will be a win-win for both sides. Why else would they marry you?”
Ouch.
“In your case, you need the positive exposure. You need to remind the public and frankly everyone in the movie industry that you’re not just some exhibitionist and in fact a damn good actor. In her case, whomever you decide to marry, she’ll use you for her own gain, whatever that is. That’s how the game is played.”
I rubbed my forehead and leaned back in my seat. “I don’t like this, Megan. I don’t like it at all.”
“Look, Jason,” she started, leaning over her desk. “You’re an amazing actor. You have the potential to become one of the bests in this industry, but that’s not what the media is circulating any more. Have you read the tabloids lately?”
“You know I don’t touch those.”
“Yeah, you don’t, but people do. They love the gossip, they love to learn the dirty secrets of celebrities, and they definitely love to tear them apart at their first mistake, and every time after that. Those facts will never change. Whether you like it or not doesn’t matter. You’ve been in this game long enough to know the rules.” She stopped and took another sip of her tea. I wanted to take that damn cup and throw it against the wall. “Do you know what they’ll read tomorrow?”
“What?” I snarled.
“A special interview with a college girl from Canada. Apparently, you two fucked all over the place in Toronto, and she is giving the inside scoop on your relationship.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer.
Dumbfounded, I shook my head. “What college girl? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t touched anyone since the alley incident.”
“That’s not what she is saying.”
“And now you’re going to believe the tabloids over me?”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. I know you didn’t touch anyone because I’ve been in contact with Alvin.” My eyes narrowed and she shrugged. “In order to protect you, I need to know what’s happening in your life before others can learn about it. So, yeah, of course I’m keeping tabs on you. The point is, tomorrow everyone will eat up the story. It doesn’t even matter whether it’s true or not, or that there are no exclusive pictures attached to the interview this time around. Everyone will believe it simply because, well, it’s what you do.” Another shrug. “It’s the first thing that pops into their minds when they hear the name Jason Thorn.”
“There are no exclusive pictures, blurry or not, because nothing happened in Toronto.” I sighed. No matter what I said, I knew I couldn’t win. “You’re giving me a damn headache, Megan.”
“I wish a headache was your only concern. Any publicity isn’t good publicity in your case, Jason. Denial can only work up to a certain point and they are not having what we’re serving them anymore. You want to be known for your work, not your personal life. That’s what you told me when you hired me, and you were right, because that’s the only way you’ll keep getting the big roles. Otherwise you’ll just get lost in this circus because no one will be interested in having you on their team.”
“And marrying some girl will solve all of my problems.” I gave her a bitter laugh and rose from my seat. The sky was tinged with pink and soft orange hues while in there, in that office, my own world was filling with dark clouds.
“I didn’t say it will solve all your problems at once. It all depends on how you act after you’re married. You’re gonna have to play the good husband role for quite some time. No stepping out on your wife either. I don’t care if you add a clause into the contract, agreeing to have sex just with each other, but you’re not going out there to take out your dick and keep doing what you’ve been doing.”
“I’m not having sex with anyone,” I growled.
She waved her hand, dismissing me. “Of course, before all that happens we’ll have to make it look like you’ve been dating for a month or two before you get married. Leak some cozy photos of you two together. Then we’ll come up with a good story and you’ll elope or something.”
“A good story,” I repeated, running my hand down my face. “My entire fucking life is turning into a horror story.”
“Well, next time you’ll remember to keep it in your pants and we won’t be in this situation again.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I mocked.
“Go home, Jason,” she said wearily. “I have to make a few phone calls and see who else I can add to your ‘future wife’ pile.”
“Great,” I muttered, heading toward the door.
“I’ll be waiting for you at 4 o’clock, tomorrow. Don’t make me chase you. You have to choose someone so we can start shaping the story. This isn’t something that can happen overnight.”
I headed out without saying another word.
***
Me: What are you up to?
Olive: I’m about to scream for Mercy for the second time tonight.
Me: What?!
Olive: LOL! Not that kind of screaming. Unfortunately, it’s only karaoke night and Lucy wants me to celebrate the movie deal by singing my heart out. We’re doing Charlie Puth’s ‘Marvin Gaye’ in ten minutes, for the second time… I believe it’ll happen a few more times before the night ends.
I was back at home, but the longer I tried to relax and read the mostly complete script Bryan had given me, the more I was starting to feel like a trapped animal in my own damn home—which soon enough wouldn’t even be my own home. I would be sharing it with an unknown roommate.
Trying to forget about my own life, I’d decided to text Olive to see if she was free to talk about the script. After all, nobody knew Isaac better than her, and even though I’d read the book thoroughly, twice, it would help if I could get deeper into Isaac’s head. Maybe ask what she was thinking when she was writing from his point of view. She could give me details about his past, things that only she could know.
As for Isaac’s unfiltered sex scenes in the book…I didn’t think I was ready to go there with Olive. After reading the book, I understood why Olive didn’t want Dylan or her dad to read it. Both of them would either have a heart attack, or simply have trouble looking into her eyes again, which would be a great tragedy. Her eyes…they were one of a kind, alluring and intriguing in a way that made you want to get closer to her just so you could study and memorize the depth of the colors, find those hazel specks hiding in the bright green and watch how they sparkled when she smiled at you.
The night she came to my house to meet with Tom, I found out that I had no trouble at all looking at any part of her body, including her eyes, which probably made me a complete bastard.
Reading her last text again, I realized what I was feeling was disappointment. I’d been eager to talk to her, to pick her brain, to see her again. Wasn’t that why I had invited her to sit in on the screen testing? Hadn’t I felt happy when I’d seen her standing in front of the building, smiling at me as I jogged to her side? And in that brief moment, hadn’t I completely forgotten about Dylan being my friend, and Olive being his little sister?
Not liking where my thoughts were heading, I tossed the script aside and shook my head. Maybe not having sex was getting to me. My phone pinged with a new text from Olive.
Olive: What are you up to?
I smiled and walked outside as I texted her back.
Me: Enjoying my freedom while I can.
Olive: What does that mean?
Me: Nothing important. I have part of the script so I was actually thinking of calling you to see if you were free to discuss Isaac. Pick your brain a little.
Olive: I’ve been with Isaac for almost three years. He’s been my day and night. He is so broken, but still perfect just the way he is. Let’s talk about him. Let’s talk about him for hours.
Me: Are we still talking about the same Isaac?
Olive: There can only be one Isaac in my heart. Though he gave his heart to Evie, he’ll forever be in mine.
Me: I’m thinking you’re a little on the drunk side, little one.
Olive: It’s Long Island Iced Tea night!!! And I don’t want to be the little one any more, Jason :( I want to be big Olive. I’ve grown up, I’m not clingy or sticky anymore.
Not having a clue what she was talking about, I hesitated for a short moment before calling Alvin.
“Hi Alvin.”
“Hey, boss. What’s up?” There was a rustling sound in the background.
“Sorry man. Bad timing?”
“It’s fine. Did you need something?”
“Yeah. I need you to find me a…a college bar, probably. They are having a karaoke night.”
I could hear his laptop come to life. “O-kay. Is there any way we can narrow that down? Otherwise the list will be longer than you’d want.”
“It should be somewhere near USC. I’ll text you her address so you can check the bars around the apartment, too.”
“And this ‘her’ we’re talking about is Olive Taylor?”
“Yes,” I replied distractedly as I walked back into the house. If I was going out, I would need to change.
“You’re not considering going out to find her in a bar, are you?”
“And if I am?”
“I’d say you must not have enough of Megan chewing your ass and you’re jonesing for more.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, she won’t hear about this.” I stopped next to my bed. “And if you don’t want to get fired, you’re not reporting that to her either. Get back to me as soon as you can. I’m texting you her address.”
Ending the call, I texted him the address of her apartment and went to my closet to change into something more college-y to blend in with the rest of the frat boys.
Fifteen minutes later, I was on my way to attempt to find Olive in one of the five bars Alvin had texted.
***
It was at the fourth bar that I finally found…something. And by something, I mean Olive and the friend she had introduced me to that day—Lucy? Charlotte?—up on the small makeshift stage just about to start a song.
She looked…damn it but she looked good. Her hair had clearly been haphazardly put into a messy bun, but there were still a few locks that had escaped and were resting over her shoulders, framing and drawing attention to her beautiful smiling face. She was wearing a short dress, which seemed to sit a little tight on her breasts.
Why the hell am I looking at her breasts, again?
Shit!
When the music blasted, they started swaying to the beat. Then reaching up, she let her hair loose, shook her head, and looked at her friend with a big smile on her face as she mouthed something I couldn’t understand. Just as she had said on the phone, they started to sing ‘Let’s Marvin Gaye’ from the top. Then started the slow hip and shoulder movements. The saps who were lined up in front of the stage ate it all up, catcalling and whistling.
Looking down at the floor, I pulled down my baseball hat, trying not to draw attention to myself. I walked in farther and found a dark corner close to the stage. I wanted to grab a beer from the bar, but it wasn’t worth getting recognized for. As soon as I knew Olive was safe with her friends, I would leave. My hands in my pockets, I leaned back against the wood wall and watched the whole thing with bewilderment, amusement, and fascination.
When Olive smiled and bit her bottom lip as her friend took over the song, I was completely mesmerized by her.
Sucker punched.
Then the chorus came and they were singing together again. At one point, Olive gave her back to her friend, glanced over her shoulder, and with a playful look on her face, winked at her. I would have bet millions of my dollars that every hot-blooded male’s attention was on her, not her friend, but it didn’t even look like Olive cared for any of the attention she was getting. Even though her friend was a fiery brunette, she couldn’t hold a candle to Olive’s beauty. If they had the chance, more than half of those idiots would go after her without a second thought.
Without even realizing what I was doing, I walked closer to the stage. Blending in had been easier than I’d thought it would be, so I didn’t see a problem with being more in the open.
A college bar wasn’t exactly the place people would expect me to hang around, after all. Even if a few of them thought I looked like someone they knew, with the amount of alcohol in their system they wouldn’t remember a thing by the morning, and if someone started to take pictures, I would just head out.
My eyes glued to the stage, specifically on Olive, I didn’t see the guy next to me and took an elbow in my side. Grunting in pain, I lowered my baseball cap just to make sure no one could see my entire face. I couldn’t stay there the entire night, but I knew I wasn’t going anywhere until I talked to Olive and made sure she wasn’t pawed by any drunken idiots.
I didn’t trust any of those bastards not to pull anything on her as soon as she was off the stage.
As much as the crowd was getting heated, Olive and her friend seemed to enjoy singing to each other, laughing and smiling the entire time. When they were at the opposite ends of the stage, Olive crooked her finger at her friend and I found myself a few steps closer to the stage.
Damn it, Jason!
When she screamed for mercy, I was right there with her. My phone started buzzing in my pocket. Seeing Megan’s name on the screen, I ignored her call. Suddenly, flustered and angry for some reason, I was about to turn around and leave when I heard someone yell, ‘I’ll give you all the healing you need, all damn night babe!’
Stupid shitfaced bastards.
So, I stayed.
I would drop her home myself. That way I would feel better, knowing she was safe.
When they were finally done with the song, I was more than ready to deck a few guys I had set my eyes on. Dylan would want me too, wouldn’t he?
As soon as Olive got down from the stage, the guy I’d seen when I’d dropped her off at her apartment took her hand and led both the girls to the end of the bar where a few more of their friends were sitting. Heading toward them, I noticed Olive pulling her hand out of his and linking her arm with her friend’s again.
When I was almost by their side, my eyes met with her friend’s—the one she had been on the stage with—and she recognized me at once. Had someone else also recognized me? Taken pictures? Was that why Megan was calling?
When I was standing right behind Olive, her friend’s grin had become too big for her small face.
That one was trouble.
I cleared my throat, but Olive didn’t hear me, not with the stupid blasting music—none of them did. I glanced at her friend, but she was looking anywhere but me.
Sighing, I put my hand on Olive’s waist.
The touch felt familiar—maybe a little too much.
She whirled around, her hair smacking me in the face; it smelled like fruit. Edible.
Fuck me.
Not edible.
Not my little Olive.
When I was safe from the hair attack, she was staring at me with a frown on her face, then she slightly lifted my baseball cap and recognized me at once. Her expression turned from cute fury to a fucking beautiful smile.
It was good to know she knew how to handle strangers touching her: hit them in the face with the hair whip and then frown up at them until they slithered away. My only hope was that they wouldn’t carry her away along with them.
“Jason!” She beamed up at me and threw herself in my arms, trusting me to catch her.
Grunting at the unexpected weight, I had to take a step back to steady us. Laughing, I nudged her chin up from where it was buried in my chest.
“You smell soooo good,” she slurred slightly. “Did you come to see big Olive? I’m not so little any more, am I, Jason? You saw that, right?”
She looked so vulnerable and hopeful that I had a hard time finding the right words to speak.
My hand acting on its own, I cradled her face and watched her close her eyes for two seconds then softly open them up to gaze right back into mine.
“No. I guess you’re not that little any more, my little Olive.”
She scrunched up her nose. “You’re still calling me little.” Shaking her head, she said, “You need sooo much help with finding the right nicknames. You always did.”
Laughing, I leaned down to her ear and asked, “Do I, now? Would you like to volunteer to help me on that front?”
She nodded eagerly, her smile blooming again.
It was damn impossible not to smile down at her.
For a moment, we stood there glancing at each other and my smile slowly melted away.
I was doing something wrong.
I was feeling something wrong.
Then thankfully, her friend was there, clearing her throat as she put a hand on Olive’s back.
“Lucy,” Olive yelled over the music excitedly as she steadied herself against my chest and saw her friend.
She was definitely a little drunk.
I wanted to tug her closer.
Lucy smiled at her. “Maybe you should let Jason take you home before somebody recognizes him here. People seems to be looking your way,” she added, looking at me apologetically.
I glanced around and sure enough, there were a few people close by, whispering as they kept their eyes on us.
“I should?” Olive asked.
“You definitely should,” Lucy repeated, patting her arm.
“Okay,” agreed Olive and turned to face me. “You should take you home before somebody recognizes me, Jason.”
