Forcing Gravity Page 5

  He did, however, glance back once more before a disgusted look came over his face. He turned back to me, shaking his head.

  “What?” I asked, following his gaze. It was then that I recognized one of the guys who had entered soon after the girls. He was chatting with the hostess, and it was no wonder everyone was staring. “Oh, that’s Jason Brady.”

  I suddenly understood why there were so many hot, half-dressed women lingering at the front entrance. They were part of Jason Brady’s entourage. He was known as one of the Young Hollywood elite; an even bigger celebrity than Garrett or Donovan Collins. Jason had been acting for years and had had several major roles locked down before he turned eighteen. He’d been a fixture in the gossip magazines for years, and was probably one of the hottest guys on the planet. I realized then that he was actually even better looking in person.

  And then it was me who couldn’t look away from the front of the restaurant.

  Jason had dark brown hair that hung past his ears and was messy in that sexy, bed-head way, and eyes so green they had to be contacts. He also had a body that was better than any I’d seen up close and personal – he’d been featured shirtless in the tabloids more times than once – but even in the fitted navy t-shirt and distressed jeans he wore, his rockin’ physique was no secret. It made you want to reach out to touch his bicep or run your hand over his abs just to see how firm they actually were.

  He was seriously yummy, and that wasn’t something I usually said about people, but now, being in the same room as a god like Jason Brady, I really couldn’t think of an adjective that described him any better. I realized my mouth was partially open when Ethan dragged me back out of my fantasy.

  “I fucking hate that guy,” he grumbled.

  “Why?” I asked, appalled by Ethan’s sudden aggression. Jason had seemed so friendly chatting up the hostess, smiling and flirting and leaning in close. Lucky girl.

  Of course, I knew first-hand how deceiving actors could be. I’d met more than a few in my life, and nice guys like Garrett were definitely in the minority. Most of them were arrogant pricks or giant phonies like my mom. It always made me laugh when someone found out who my mom was and told me how funny and sweet she seemed. My mom could turn on the charm when she wanted to, and she really was a fantastic actress. She had everyone fooled – well, everyone that didn’t know the real her, that is.

  I looked back to catch one more glance as Jason and his group were led into a private room. He was a little breathtaking to say the least, and I couldn’t help but stare. And fantasize.

  “Why do you hate him?” I asked Ethan again, once Jason and his entourage had disappeared.

  I sucked on a piece of edamame while I waited for Ethan to respond.

  “He’s just a douchbag,” he said, taking a large, aggravated sip of his drink which was called ‘The Dragon’ – a very masculine name for a drink, in my opinion.

  “How do you know him?”

  “We went to school together for a few years. He was two grades ahead of me, but then he dropped out when he was a junior because he was making too many movies or some shit like that. He was always a jackass, though.”

  “Alright, noted,” I said, wondering if Ethan was jealous that Jason Brady had an entourage of hot women or if he truly was a jerk. Either way, I didn’t need Ethan to be in a bad mood, so I figured I’d change his attitude. “So, let’s talk about something else.”

  “Sure,” he grumbled, and I wondered if the ever-optimistic Ethan was a thing of the past. He’d certainly seemed to be irritated a lot lately.

  ***

  “So, where is this party we’re going to?”

  “Santa Monica,” Ethan said, as he switched seats with the valet in his new silver Infiniti G37, a sweet graduation gift from his parents.

  “You sure you’re good to drive?” I asked, cautiously. I was a little buzzed, so I hoped he wasn’t feeling the same way. Of course, he had at least seventy pounds on me, so it was possible that the one drink he had didn’t go to his head like the two I’d had had gone to mine.

  “Totally sober,” he said, grinning at me, and his grin didn’t go away. I was glad to see cheerful Ethan was back.

  “What?” I asked, liking the feeling of the alcohol swimming around in my brain. Maybe the party would be more fun if I was buzzed.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he said, smirking at me.

  “I love surprises,” I gushed, instantly excited. Ethan loved surprising me. He’d been doing it our whole lives. “What is it?”

  “Sorry, it’s a surprise,” he said with fake disappointment in his voice but glee in his eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Asshole,” I muttered, as I crossed my arms in front of my chest and fake pouted out the window.

  Ethan just laughed at me.

  Twenty minutes later we pulled up in front of a modest two-story beach house that was already crawling with people. The driveway was blocked by a security guard, but Ethan drove right up like he owned the place.

  “Ethan Lewis,” he said, showing the beefy guy his ID.

  “Go ahead,” the guy said, after he checked that Ethan was who he said he was.

  “Wow,” I said, looking over at Ethan in awe. “You’ve got some pull around here.”

  He just shrugged. “I know the guy who owns the place.”

  As we got out of the car, I regretted what I was wearing for the second time that night. Every single female I saw was dressed in some version of a dress and heels. I looked incredibly out of place, once again. Maybe I needed to tap into the wardrobe my mom had bought me. I had yet to wear any of it, and as pissed off as it made me that she felt the need to dress me, she was pretty spot-on with what she’d picked out.

  “I look okay, right?” I asked Ethan, grabbing his arm to hold him back from walking to the front door.

  A warm breeze rustled his hair, blowing his blond locks across his cheek. “You look great,” he said, without even looking at me.

  I sighed. “You didn’t even look.”

  “That’s because I know you look great,” he said, as he tucked his hair behind his ear and locked his eyes on mine. “You always do, Lo.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You just know me too well. I look ridiculous in this outfit.”

  His shoulders sagged. “Don’t,” he cautioned.

  “What?”

  “Don’t be one of those insecure girls who can’t see how cute she is. You’ve never been that girl before, so don’t start now.”

  I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I hadn’t ever been insecure, even when I’d attended Ethan’s friends’ parties before. I’d never once cared what anyone else thought, but suddenly I felt different, and I didn’t like it.

  I fingered one of my shoulder-length, loose curls, twisting it around my finger as I looked down at my feet. Suddenly, Ethan’s hand reached out and pulled my finger out of my hair, breaking my nervous habit.

  “You look hot, okay,” he said, pointedly. “I’m honestly not looking forward to the fact that I’ll have to kick some of my friends’ asses because they’re going to say really inappropriate thing about you.”

  “Like what?” I asked, just a little intrigued.

  He laughed. “You don’t want to know, but trust me, the ass-kickings will be warranted.”

  “Fine,” I sighed, not sure I’d be able to shrug off my newly developed insecurities as easily as I hoped. L.A. seemed to be getting to me.

  “Logan!” I heard from behind me, and I spun around to see Lauren walking toward me holding hands with a statuesque caramel skinned girl who was at least a foot taller than her and had a headful of short dark spiral curls. She looked like a model and probably was.

  “Hey, Lauren,” I said, hugging her when they reached us. I noticed even she was wearing heels with her leather pants. Maybe I needed to invest in some L.A. footwear, I thought, as she introduced us to her girlfriend, Phoebe, and punched Ethan in the arm by way of greeting.

  “Nice house
, E,” she said, grinning at him.

  “Thanks,” he said, returning her grin, and I looked at him in confusion. He smirked back at me.

  Suddenly it clicked. “That’s how you got to park in the driveway.”

  “Yeah, it’s cool to do that when it’s your house.”

  My jaw dropped. “Ethan! Are you serious?”

  “You didn’t tell her?” Lauren asked.

  No, he didn’t. I’d known Ethan had planned to live off-campus, having opted to forgo the dorm experience when he took a tour of the campus and saw how small and utilitarian the rooms were, but I didn’t know he’d found a place – especially since I figured he’d pick some small apartment near campus. I didn’t expect him to be renting a place on the beach in Santa Monica that was big enough for a family of four to live in comfortably.

  He grinned again. “Home sweet home. Actually, it’s Garrett’s home sweet home, since he bought the place, but he’s going to let me live here once school starts.”

  A wave of dread suddenly washed over me. We were at Garrett’s house? Was he there?

  “I thought Garrett was in Vancouver,” I said, trying to keep my voice level and hoping Ethan would confirm that his brother was still in Canada. I was prepared to see Garrett in two weeks, not that night.

  “He was, but he came back for the weekend. They had a break in shooting, so he flew home this afternoon.”

  Shit. I swallowed hard, trying to keep it together.

  The last time I’d seen Garrett had been the morning after I’d stayed the night in his hotel room. It was his last night in Miami, and we’d had a little bit to drink at dinner. I wasn’t able to drive, and instead of taking a cab all the way back to Ft. Lauderdale, Garrett offered to get me a room in his hotel, telling me I could take him to breakfast the next morning before he caught his flight back to L.A. I called my dad to tell him our plan and assured him that we would in fact be sleeping in separate rooms, because I truly intended to do just that at that juncture in the night.

  Then Garrett and I had hit the hotel bar, and things had gotten a little crazy. We’d started talking about how his life had changed since he’d become famous, especially with women. He told me how girls threw themselves at him on a regular basis, which hadn’t ever happened before. And then, as if punctuating his statement, two giggly girls who couldn’t have been much older than me, approached us and asked for his autograph. One ignored me and the other glared.

  They giggled and flirted and asked him about his character in Earthbound. Then one of the girls actually asked him if he wanted to come up to her hotel room – with me sitting right there! Granted, they didn’t know who I was, but we could have been on a date. How rude of her. But sweet Garrett just politely declined the invitation. The girl just shrugged, and she and her friend left the bar, giggling with their heads together, no doubt excited about meeting a real live celebrity. But then they stopped when they were at the door, and the one girl turned around, glared at me, and mouthed ‘slut’.

  I’d just laughed and turned my attention back to Garrett who looked bewildered by what had just happened. As good looking as he was, Garrett had never put it out there like his brother did, so girls hadn’t ever seen him as a sex object. Well, they sure did now, but it seemed as if he didn’t quite understand, nor did he seem as thrilled as most guys would be. He hated the intrusion and assumption that he could be propositioned so easily. In truth, he seemed kind of sad that he didn’t have a girlfriend and unlike most guys, casual sex with groupies wouldn’t do it for him.

  I knew deep down Garrett was a nice guy who just wanted someone he could care about. He wasn’t the type to sleep around, so the star-fuckers who hit on him weren’t his style. He’d admitted to giving in a time or two after Earthbound had first premiered, but he told me he hadn’t been with a girl in a while.

  His PR rep and his agent made sure he had a girl on his arm whenever he went to a premiere, or any other event where he’d be photographed, so it looked like he was dating, but those girls would only give off the illusion that he was linked to someone for a short while. Major stars who appealed to a primarily teen audience were more marketable if they were single, but desirable, so his agent and publicist made sure he had different girls on rotation.

  I could tell Garrett was down that night, especially after his fans had approached him, so I tried to put us on an even playing field.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’m going off to college a virgin,” I said morosely, and his eyes had gotten wide.

  “Really?”

  “Don’t sound so shocked,” I said, punching him in the arm.

  “I can’t help it,” he said, shaking his head. “Not that I would think you’d give it up so easily. I just figured there would have been a boyfriend along the way who would have . . .”

  His statement drifted off as if he was afraid to finish his thought, but I knew where he was headed.

  “I guess I could have had sex, but I was sort of waiting for someone special. Of course he never came along, so yeah, I’m the girl who is going off to college a virgin.”

  I leaned my head on my hand, feeling the effects of the alcohol cloud my thoughts.

  Garrett shrugged. “It’s no big deal, Lo. Lots of girls wait until they’re in college.”

  “In L.A.?” I asked, leaning toward him.

  “Sure,” he said, but it wasn’t very convincing.

  “How old were you?” I asked, as I reached out to run my fingers through his short blond locks before letting my hand fall to his lap.

  Garrett suddenly got shy. “Eighteen. It was on prom night.”

  I laughed out loud, even though I knew he was embarrassed to share that fact with me. I couldn’t help it. I was drunk. “That is so cliché, Gare.”

  “I know,” he said, shrugging as he took my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. “But I’ve had lots of sex since then.”

  “I’m sure you have,” I said, still laughing, as I fell away from him a little. A tug on my hand jerked me back toward him.

  “Hey, girls love me, I’ll have you know,” he said defensively.

  “Oh I know they do, and by proxy, they hate me because they think I’m your girlfriend. Trust me, I’ve experienced just how much girls like you in these past two weeks. How do you stand it?”

  “What? Being a teen heartthrob?” he asked, barely able to get the words out without smirking.

  “Yeah.”

  “Truthfully, I kind of hate it,” he said somberly. “I mean, when I signed on to do Earthbound, it was the coolest thing that had ever happened to me, but I should have learned from what happened to the stars of Twilight and The Hunger Games that things would change for me. I just didn’t think they would change this much. I’m honestly afraid of getting typecast because of this role, and not just in my professional life.”

  Since Earthbound, Garrett had done two more teen dramas, including the one he was in Miami for, and he was lined up to star in a teen horror flick he was filming in September, so his fear wasn’t too far off. I didn’t think it was possible to get typecast in his personal life. That assumption might have been going a little too far.

  “Hey, if Zac Efron can bounce back from High School Musical, I think you’ll be okay,” I said, trying to appease him

  Garrett ran his hand through his hair, looking visibly stressed. “I guess. Either way, I made sure to take a break from teen films after Vacation From Hell. I’ve got that indie film lined up next, and if I get the lead in the studio film I auditioned for two weeks ago, I’ll be okay. Did I tell you about Junkie?”

  I shook my head. He’d told me about the indie film he was going to shoot in Vancouver about a guy who was kidnapped when he was twelve and was brainwashed into thinking his captor was his dad. Then he gets rescued when he’s eighteen and is reunited with his real family, only he doesn’t trust them after everything he’s been through. It was based loosely on a true story, and I couldn’t wait to see Garrett in such a dark role.<
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  “Junkie is about a heroin addict who lives in Vegas. It starts shooting in November, and if I get the role, it’ll be huge. Although I’ll have to lose like thirty pounds which won’t be too fun.”

  “No more In and Out Burger,” I cautioned.

  “No more of these,” he said, holding up his Jack and Coke.

  I took a sip of my vodka tonic and eyed him appraisingly. “Maybe the girls won’t like you so much if you’re that skinny. It could be a plus.”

  I leaned forward so we were just inches apart.

  “Could be,” he said softly, his eyes drifting to my lips.

  In turn I was suddenly eyeing his full lips and wondering why I’d never thought about Garrett as more than a friend. He was sweet, kind, adorable, sexy – all the right adjectives a girl wanted in a guy. How come I’d never noticed this before?

  “You look really pretty tonight,” he murmured, his blue eyes darting between my lips and my eyes.

  “Thank you,” I said, leaning even closer. “So do you.”

  “Do you want to go upstairs?” he asked then, and his eyes were hooded. It took a lot for Garrett to get drunk, but it seemed he was there. Although I was probably ten times drunker than him at that moment. “It’s getting kind of late.”

  Oh, so he just wanted to go to sleep. Got it.

  “Okay,” I said pulling back from him, the moment lost. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how close we’d been as we walked to the elevators.

  As soon as we were in the elevator, alone, I meandered over to where he stood, watching the numbers go up, up, up. He didn’t look down at me right away, but when he did, there was something in his eyes that was unfamiliar and just a little fierce.

  “How come you’ve never tried to hit on me?” I asked, looking up into his soulful blue eyes.

  “Because you’ve always been like a little sister to me,” he responded.

  “I’m eighteen,” I defended, crossing my arms defiantly.

  “Yeah,” he sighed, looping his arms around my waist and closing the infinite distance between us. “I noticed.”