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Forcing Gravity Page 7
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I really hated when guys used pick-up lines. Did they really work?
Jason laughed. “Uh no. You just seem nice.”
I suddenly felt bad for rolling my eyes at him.
“I guess you seem nice too,” I offered, taking a seat on the outdoor sofa Garrett had put on the balcony. Jason stayed put, half-hidden in the dark corner. “Do you want to sit, or are you thinking about jetting?”
“There’s paparazzi down on the beach. I don’t want my picture taken.”
I looked over my shoulder between the slats in the railing and sure enough, three photographers lingered on the sand, just waiting for a golden shot of whomever they were hoping might appear, and it very well could have been Jason. Or Garrett. Or any of the models or socialites or pseudo-celebrities that were partying downstairs.
“I can fix that,” I said, getting up and heading back inside. I grabbed a blanket from Ethan’s bed and draped it over the back of the railing behind the couch, successfully blocking the view of anyone who was down on the beach. I patted the end of the couch. “Feel free.”
“Thanks,” Jason said gratefully, as he bent down below the railing and covertly made his way over to me. He sat down at the opposite end of the sofa, angled himself toward me and appraised me thoughtfully. “I’m Jase, by the way.”
“Jase?” I asked. I’d only ever heard him referred to as Jason.
He smiled that secretive smile again and said. “It’s actually Jason, but my friends call me Jase.”
Apparently I was his friend.
“I’m Logan.”
“Nice to meet you, Logan,” he said, and the way my name rolled off his tongue made me want to fan myself with my hand.
I resisted the urge to do just that, and we appraised each other for a minute, each of us seemingly wondering what to say next.
“How do you know Garrett?” I asked, wondering if he actually knew Garrett.
It wouldn’t be odd to see a celebrity of his stature at a random party without knowing the host. Jason Brady wouldn’t be turned away from any door he tried to enter.
“I just met him last week, actually,” Jase said, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “We’re doing a movie together, so the director wanted to get all the primary actors together for a meeting before we start filming. He seems like a cool guy.”
I smiled. “He is. I’ve known him since I was a kid.”
“You’re not dating him are you?” Jase asked, and I thought it was so cute how he asked like he was just curious, but I could tell he was really fishing and had to take a few deep breaths.
Jason Brady was fishing for information on whether or not I was single. Could I actually get away with standing up and doing a happy dance without him thinking I was insane? Yeah, probably not.
“No, we’re just friends,” I confirmed.
I had a feeling Jase didn’t read the tabloids, so he probably hadn’t seen me in my fifteen minutes of fame alongside Garrett. No sense in dredging up things that weren’t true.
“That’s good to know,” Jase said, his bottom lip twitching just slightly. “I mean, in case anyone asks, I’ll know what to tell them.”
Smooth, I thought, fighting the urge to grin. For as hot as Jase was, he wasn’t very good at flirting.
“I appreciate that,” I said confidently, enjoying the fact that this guy, who was an A-List celebrity, was nervous and fumbling around me.
“So tell me about yourself,” he said then, lifting his elbow to the back of the couch and leaning his head against his hand in such a casual way that it started to make me feel at ease. “You’re not from L.A., are you?”
“How did you guess?” I asked, laughing as I thought of how obviously out of place I looked.
“You don’t seem as pretentious as everyone else around here,” he said, catching me completely off-guard.
That was not what I expected him to say at all, but with that one statement, I completely let down my guard and started to tell him about my life in Florida and my dad and how I’d moved to L.A. for school. I left out my mom, because I just didn’t feel like talking about her and because I didn’t necessarily want him to know who she was anyway. But it was incredibly easy to talk to him, and for some strange reason, I felt completely comfortable around him even though I knew it shouldn’t.
He smiled when I stopped talking and eyed me thoughtfully. “You’ll like USC.”
“I hope so.”
“My older sister, Tara, goes there. She’s a senior, but she loves it so much she’s planning to stay for grad school. I honestly think she’s trying to avoid having to go out into the real world and look for a job, but don’t tell her I said that.”
I smiled. “I won’t. How about you? Did you go to college?”
I could pretend I didn’t know the answer to my question. He didn’t need to know that I’d read countless articles about him, had seen most of his movies, and that I was a tabloid junkie and had just read about his twenty-five favorite things the week before – Star Wars (the original trilogy), the L.A. Dodgers, beignets from Café Du Monde in New Orleans and taking flying lessons – just to name a few. I wasn’t a stalker, I just had a good memory, especially when the subject was interesting.
“No, I didn’t go to college,” he said resignedly. “I wanted to, but my work keeps me pretty busy.”
“I can imagine. It’s been non-stop for Garrett for the past two years. I mean, when he’s not filming, he’s doing press tours or auditioning or prepping for a role. It’s pretty crazy. What movie are you guys doing together?”
He shook his head. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”
Suddenly, the breeze blew just right, and I was met with the most amazing scent. Either it was his aftershave or his cologne or just him, but Jase Brady smelled incredible. I tried to breathe in the heavenly scent as inconspicuously as I could. I didn’t need him to know I was sniffing him from afar.
“No, I won’t,” I insisted, although I couldn’t guarantee it. Garrett had done some pretty dumb movies in his career.
Jase took a deep breath. I could not believe how self-conscious he was. He was completely different from what I’d always assumed. I guess that’s what I got for assuming.
“It’s a horror movie about some college friends who rent a house for the summer, and it turns out to be possessed by demons.” He shook his head. “It’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m doing it, but my agent felt it would be a good way to show my range. I’ve done some pretty serious roles lately, so I think she was afraid of me getting typecast.”
Oh, right, Vacation From Hell. Garrett had told me about that one, but he hadn’t mentioned who he was starring with. I figured that kind of movie would show Jase’s range, but I wasn’t sure I agreed with his agent that it was the right film for him, and I could tell he didn’t either. Horror movies seemed like the thing actors did when they were up and coming, not when they were bona fide movie stars.
Watching the look on his face, I fought the urge to reach over and take his hand. I loved how humble he was. I hadn’t met a guy like him – ever. Most of the guys I knew who looked as good as him were assholes or players. The fact that he was so unaffected by his looks and his celebrity made Jase Brady that much more appealing. Then I remembered Ethan telling me how he hated him, and I wondered if I was missing something. I forced myself to keep my hand in my lap after that, looking for signs that might change my mind about Jase.
“I’d go see that movie,” I offered, mostly because I’d end up seeing it anyway. I went to all of Garrett’s movies, no matter how bad they were. “Who do you play?”
“The asshole the demons target because he’s a prick. They torture him and the girl he’s with, and he dies in the end.”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to give away the ending,” he said apologetically.
“No, it’s fine,” I said, biting my lip to keep from laughing. It wasn’t exactly a gripping plotline. “Who does Garrett play?”
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“The science nerd who figures out how to fight back against the evil spirits and gets my girl after I kick it.”
“Oh, sorry about that.”
He shrugged. “Eh, it’s fine. I like to think that since my character was killed by demons that he ends up becoming a saint in the afterlife, so things end up okay for him.”
I stifled a laugh. “Good for him,” I said, humoring Jase’s sense of imagination. It was cute.
“For the record, I’m doing a Vietnam War biopic next, so I actually can act,” he clarified. “You might not be able to tell from this next film, but trust me, I can.”
Okay, so I was totally back to wanting to hold his hand again. He was so adorable and self-deprecating, but in a really cute way.
“Personally, I liked you in Radio Riot,” I said, referencing the movie he’d starred in earlier in the year. It was more of a cult movie about a radio show in L.A., but his character had been this brooding, deep, introspective deejay who you couldn’t help but fall in love with. Jase’s depth was apparent in that film, and there was Oscar buzz already that he might be up for Best Supporting Actor. “Based on that, I’d say your acting talents are not in question.”
His green eyes sparkled at my compliment. “So you do know who I am.”
I shrugged. “Sure. You’re kind of a big celebrity in case you didn’t know.”
“Yeah, I know that,” he said, and it didn’t come across the least bit cocky. He was almost more annoyed by it. I watched his gaze go toward the beach where we both knew the paparazzi lay in wait, even if we couldn’t see them. “I just didn’t think you did.”
“Who did you think I thought you were?”
“Just some random actor guy. I don’t know.”
“Who looks like just Jason Brady and is afraid of the paparazzi? Come on,” I said, giggling just a little.
He threw his hands up in aggravation, which I thought was sweet. He actually thought he could go out without a hat or sunglasses or any other disguise, and he wouldn’t be recognized. Right.
“You’re adorable – and hilarious,” I pointed out, laughing a little harder.
“But you didn’t throw yourself at me,” he said, the questioning air in his tone apparent.
“Is that what usually happens when you meet girls?”
I wondered what that would be like. I knew Garrett’s lust factor had gone up ten-fold since he’d become famous, but he was nowhere near the status level that Jase was at. Jase could probably have any girl he wanted, and yet, with a house full of them downstairs, he was hiding upstairs with me.
“Yes!” he said, exasperated. “All the time!”
“Okay, well, sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to do that. I promise, next time we meet, I’ll gush and scream and pull on your shirt in an effort to get a piece to take home and put in my Jason Brady scrapbook.”
Jase paused, as if he was about to say something and then changed his mind. Then he threw his head back and started to laugh hysterically until he was full-on clutching his stomach and practically falling over he was laughing so hard.
I just watched him with amusement, loving that he was letting loose in front of me, a proverbial stranger.
“Glad I could amuse you,” I finally said, as he started to recover and right himself.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I just heard what I said and what I assumed, and I realized I’m a fucking moron.”
“No you’re not. I understand,” I said. “I mean I’d hate it if guys were throwing themselves at me whenever I met them. I get it.”
“Yeah, but how pretentious of me to assume that you would do that just because you recognized me. Geez, I’m a little bit of a dick, I guess.”
“You’re not a dick. You actually seem like a really nice guy.”
“Really?”
He seemed so appalled that I would think that.
“Yeah,” I told him, catching his laser gaze that had suddenly dialed in on me.
His eyes lit up, and I realized he’d moved a few inches closer. Before I knew what he was doing, he reached out and took my hand, taking me by surprise.
“Thank you,” he said softly, all traces of laughter gone from his voice.
“For what?” I asked just as softly, my voice almost getting lost in the feeling that stemmed from the warmth of his hand, all the way up my arm, making my head a little fuzzy.
“For reminding me of what a conversation with someone who doesn’t have elevated expectations of me can be like.”
I pulled back and appraised him, feeling the need to lighten things up again. They’d suddenly gotten a little intense.
“Oh, I have elevated expectations of you,” I teased. “Don’t get me wrong.”
“No, you don’t,” he said, all confidence at that point.
He was slowly moving toward me, and I realized that Jason Brady, the famous Jason Brady, with the most perfect lips, was about to kiss me. And as soon as those perfect lips met mine, it was like electric sparks shot between his mouth and mine and jetted right down to my stomach and beyond, making me never want to break the kiss.
Fireworks went off between us, as his hand moved from mine to around my waist, and he pulled me closer to him. My body was on fire where he touched it, and my heart pounded in my chest. I was sure he could hear it. His lips were so soft and full, but firm and commanding at the same time. I had never had a kiss like that in my life, and all too soon, it was over.
Jase pulled back and looked at me. “I hope that was okay.”
Um, yeah, it was freaking great!
I nodded, not able to actually utter any words. I had just had the most perfect kiss of my life. How in the hell was I expected to respond?
Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me from the moment with Jase and snapping me back to reality. I looked down to see Ethan’s name lighting up the screen.
Where the hell are you? he’d texted, and I knew he wanted to head out. He had to be up early the next morning.
Meet you by the bar in five, I sent back, knowing I didn’t want him to come upstairs and see me with Jase. For some reason, he hated Jase, and after what had just happened, I almost didn’t want to know the reason.
“I have to go,” I said, looking up at Jase.
“Really?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, but I do,” I said, getting up from the couch.
“Can I get your number?” he asked, and once again I had to restrain myself from jumping up and down and doing a happy dance in front of him.
“Sure,” I said, as I rattled off my cell number, not quite believing what was happening.
“I’ll call you this week,” he said, as he started to stand up, but I pushed him back down.
The paparazzi were still lingering below, and one of them was watching me. I tilted my head in their direction just enough so Jase knew they were still there. He nodded.
“You don’t have to call me,” I said, knowing it was a ridiculous notion to think that someone like him would be interested in me. I was pretty sure he was just having an insecure night and would be back to his normal, confident, celebrity self in no time. He’d forget all about me.
“No, I want to,” he insisted.
“Okay,” I said, still not believing him, as I started to make my way inside.
“Logan,” he called after me.
“Yeah?”
I turned around to see him smiling that secret smile of his, and his dimple popped just enough to be adorable.
“It was really nice meeting you.”
I returned his smile. “You too, Jase.”
-6-
“So, tomorrow is the big day,” my mother said from across the table at Spago where we were celebrating the fact that I was going off to college the next day.
“Yup,” I said, stirring my after dinner cappuccino as my phone vibrated next to my cup.
I smiled when I saw I had a text from Jase. I hadn’t heard from him all day, so
it was nice to see he was still doing okay. We’d been texting and talking on the phone for the past few weeks while he’d been in New York, then in Cabo with his family, and then in New Orleans.
He was being courted by a studio who wanted to sign him to do a three movie deal based on a book series I’d heard a decent amount of buzz about but hadn’t read. It would be filmed in New Orleans, so they’d spent the week showing him the locales they wanted to use and wooing him into signing on.
He’d been vacillating back and forth about whether he wanted to do the films since they were a bit racy, but I knew he was planning to tell the studio his answer that night. We’d talked until late the night before after he’d told me his decision and wanted to know my thoughts. I wasn’t sure I was even qualified to add my input – we hadn’t really known each other that long, and this seemed like a big decision – but he insisted that he wanted my opinion. In the end, he’d decided to take the risk and do the movies, and he seemed good with his decision, so I was happy for him.
I clicked on the text message icon on my phone to read what he’d said.
I told them, and they’re thrilled, but now they won’t stop telling me how amazing I am. I’m hiding out in the bathroom for a few minutes of quiet in an attempt to calm my ego down.
Lucky you, I texted back, grinning at the image of him hiding out in the men’s room.
Tell me something mean, he responded.
What?
Tell me something cruel. Bring me back down to earth.
You have bad breath, I wrote back, smiling to myself.
His response came back almost immediately. WHAT?! Please tell me you’re not serious!
I smiled again and didn’t text back right away.
“Who are you texting with?” my mother asked. “Ethan again?”
“No, it’s not Ethan,” I said, turning my phone over on the table. It vibrated again, but I ignored it.
“Is it a boy?!” Skylar asked excitedly, sitting up straighter in her chair.
“Maybe,” I said, reaching over and swiping a bite of her dessert.
“Who is it?!” she asked eagerly, as she swatted my spoon away but not before I could load a heaping scoop of ice cream and chocolate onto it.