A Beautiful Star (Beautiful Series, Book 5) (10 page)

“Then why did you stop?” I ask, unable to keep the question inside.

His hands move from my face to my hips, and he pulls me against him, pressing his still throbbing erection against my stomach. “Do you feel that?” he whispers in my ear, his breath warm as his lips brush against my lobe and send chills coursing through me. “That is what you do to me. And I feel like an arse because you’re standing here upset, thinking that I don’t want you, and I see you’re upset, and I’m trying to do right by you and comfort you. But all I can think about is how good it would feel to be inside you, and how much I want to watch you come again. But I’m
trying
to show restraint. I’m trying to show you that I’m not ruled by sex so that you can trust me. Let me prove to you that I’m the kind of man you deserve. Let me show you that I can do right by you.
Please
.” His voice strains as he rests his forehead against mine, and as much as I want to give in to my desire and argue and tell him that I don’t need him to prove anything, logically, I realise that I do. If we fall into this passion uncontrollably, I’ll forever be waiting for it to go away, for his eye to wander and select someone new.

“You’re right,” I whisper. “You’re right.”

He lets out his breath in a sigh of relief and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll get my keys,” he says, his breathing heavy as he slowly moves away from me, leaving me shaking from the intensity that fills the air between us.

It’s then that I realise that I’ve lost myself to him, and I fear I may never find my way back.

When I wake the next morning, my head aches. I’m not sure if it’s from the wine, or just the memories of the night before–and the confusion that goes with them. I can’t believe I left Brad, the beautiful, caring, considerate Brad, who has done nothing but be good to me, for a dry humping session with Jonathan, the guy who has been nothing but a disruption to my life since the moment I met him. But there’s something there with Jonathan. Something I don’t have with Brad and as much as I’m scared to explore it, I can’t seem to stop myself.

If I make a list of the pro and cons between each man, Brad wins. Hands down, no questions asked. And logically, I agree, I really do think that Brad is a wonderful guy and I enjoy spending time with him but…we’re just lacking that special something I have with Jonathan. We’re lacking that spark. That unexplainable phenomenon that makes bad decisions seem like good decisions because you just can’t help the way you
feel.

My heart doesn’t give a fuck about a pros and cons list. My heart just cares about the man who makes it beat a little faster and feel a little lighter. It doesn’t care that the man could break it into a million pieces and turn my life into a paparazzi shit-storm like he did for Lisa. It simply cares about the primal, soul searing connection that I only feel with one man, and I know that if I don’t allow myself to explore it, then I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting it.

Being Saturday, I put on a pair of yoga pants, and a tank top and head out to the back garden with my phone, my coffee and some toast. I have a phone call to make and an apology to give, and the thought of doing it causes my stomach to clench in a way that makes it impossible to eat, so I end up throwing my toast to the birds, as I run through a few different scenarios of this conversation through my mind in preparation.

Each and every one of them has me ending up looking like a bitch, so in the end I just pick up my phone and dial Brad’s number then wait with my heart pounding in my chest.

“I think I owe you an apology,” I say the moment he answers the phone. “I shouldn’t have run off the way I did.”

“It’s OK. I was just worried I did something wrong, or if I pushed you too far too fast. That was never my intention at all.”

“I know it wasn’t, and you didn’t do a thing wrong. It was all me. I’m just really confused about things at the moment.”

“Does that actor guy I keep seeing you photographed with have anything to do with it?” he asks.

I pull at my lip with my teeth. I don’t particularly want to answer, but I do. I owe him that much. “Kind of, yeah. I thought we were just friends but…”

“But it’s more than that.”

“I’m sorry,” I practically whisper, closing my eyes as a wave of guilt washes over me. “I really am. I just wish things were different. On paper, he’s so wrong for me and you’re so right…”

He lets out a light chuckle. “Well, you wouldn’t be so confused if he was completely wrong for you,” he says. “You know, there’s this quote I saw from Johnny Depp. It goes something like ‘if you love two people at the same time then choose the second, because you obviously weren’t that into the first one if you could fall for the second’–something like that anyway. But it makes a lot of sense in situations like these. So, don’t feel bad. There’ll be other girls.”

“And other elevators,” I add with a smile, feeling a lighter now it’s all off my chest and he doesn’t hate me for it.

“Oh no. There could never be another girl from an elevator. You win that one hands down.”

“You’re a good guy, Bradley Rae.”

“So they tell me,” he says, kindly. “Listen, if you ever need a last minute table at Quay, or a cupcake delivery, you’ve got my number.”

“Thanks, Brad. I’ll be sure to keep it safe.”

“See you around.”

He disconnects, and I let out my breath, still feeling a little uneasy over my decision but knowing that I have to follow my heart because fighting it isn’t working at all.

Picking up my coffee, I take a sip as I look out over my garden and inhale the sweet scent of the spring blooms. A kookaburra lands on my fence and cocks its head to the side as he’s studying me with that smiling beak of his. Then just as quickly, he flies off, and I’m left sitting on my own again.

I spend a while, watching the different birdlife and listening to the sounds of outdoors as I sip at my coffee and try not to overthink my problems anymore than I already have. I even try to call Lisa again, who once again, doesn’t answer. I feel the need to tell her what’s going on between Jonathan and me. I have no idea how she’s going to feel when she finds out and I don’t want to ruin our friendship over this. I contemplate telling her via voicemail, but in the end, I just send another text, urging her to call me.

When I place my phone back on my outdoor table, I hear a knock at my door. A month ago, I’d be wondering who it could possibly be. But now I know, it has to be Jonathan.

The moment I pull the door open, his hands reach out and he pulls me toward him and kisses me deeply, to the point where my knees begin to go weak, and I struggle to keep my balance when he releases me.

“I had to see you. I didn’t sleep at all after I dropped you off last night,” he murmurs, looking deeply into my eyes for a moment before he releases me and smiles. “Here, I brought pastries and coffee,” he says, crouching down to pick them up off my front step where he’d obviously placed them so his hands were free to attack me when I opened the door. “But, in a way, not sleeping was good. I read through a bunch of different scripts, and I brought around the two that I like and was hoping you could help me choose which one is the best.”

I smile at his energy as he bustles past me into the kitchen and begins to pull things out of the paper bag.

“That sounds like a lot of fun actually. What are they about?”

“Well, one is that romantical one you saw last night. And the other is a thriller where the good guy is the bad guy but he’s the bad guy for good reasons. It’s pretty complicated but really exciting. I’m just not sure how my fan base is going to perceive me in that kind of role.”

“I think they’d be okay. It’s not like you only do one kind of film. I’ve seen you in action, I’ve seen you in romance, drama. You’re pretty diverse.”

“Nice to know you’ve been present during my career,” he smiles, holding out my cup of coffee, which I take from him with a thanks.

“The whole world has been present during your career. You’re quite the someone, you know.”

He shrugs. “I’m just me.” Then he bites into an apple cinnamon muffin and takes a gulp of his coffee.

“You’re quite the someone when you’re just being you as well,” I tell him honestly, producing a shy smile from him as he drops his gaze and avoids the compliment.

During the time I’ve come to know him, I’ve really learned to appreciate how down to earth he is. There isn’t a hint of pretentiousness about him. He’s gracious with his fans and he’s polite to photographers. He even answers random questions with a smile and takes all the attention in his stride. He’s quite extraordinary. And if it weren’t for my own past issues with celebrities and his relationship and commitment history, I don’t think I would have been so apprehensive about dating him.

“So, which one are you leaning toward?” I ask, shifting our focus as I pick up a blueberry muffin and take a bite.

Carrying the food and the scripts to my coffee table, we take a seat beside each other. “I can't decide. They both have their merits. I like the character in
Trials of Love and Failure,
and I don't think it's a typical love story. Then the thriller,
A Wanted Man,
has some great action and suspense in it. But, like I said, the character could be a little risky for my image.”

“OK, so with this caffeine and this pile of sugary carbs, we’re here to make a decision?”

“Yeah, if that’s cool with you. I’d really like your input on this.”

“Of course. Although, do we have to decide today? When do you need to advise them of your involvement?”

He lifts his hand and rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Um, about a week ago?” he replies, looking at me with his lip pulled to the side a little. 

“A week ago? Holy crap, why haven't you chosen yet?”

He shrugs. “I don't know. I guess I’ve just been a little busy.”

“Yeah–chasing me. You've been too busy chasing me. Bloody hell, Jonathan, this is your career. You’re only twenty-five. This stuff is important in your industry if you want to keep working.”

“I know it’s important. I just couldn’t leave while the girl I'm in love with was still dating some other guy. If I'd chosen a script, I'd be back in the US, having meetings and shit, and you'd be here making plans with the chef guy instead of being here with me,” he argues.

A smile curls my lips. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

“I don’t know. What did I say?” He looks blank for a moment then after he's rerun what he said in his mind his face goes bright red, and he looks as though he’d like to crawl under a rock and hide.

“You said that you...”

“I know what I said,” he cuts me off. “I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that I didn't mean to drop that on you. It's just been on my mind lately because well, I realised what this was and how much you mean to me.” He lets out a loud sigh and drops his eyes. “I didn't mean to blurt it out like that. I wanted to wait until the moment was right.”

“It's OK,” I assure him, reaching out my hand to lightly touch his arm.

“No. It's not OK. I'm supposed to be showing restraint and giving you time to accept who I am, and what I do for a living. Blurting shit out like that just adds pressure. I'm sorry, can we just pretend it didn't happen?” His eyes plead with mine as his face twists in embarrassment.

“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “We can't pretend that didn't happen. And I'm glad that I'm clear on how you feel about me because, well, I've been down this road before. I've fallen for someone famous, and I believed what was between us was real. I was young, and I was stupid, but the experience taught me not to trust certain men. Especially when they tell you that you’re different and they’ve never felt the way they do around you… do you see what I’m getting at?”

He nods and returns his gaze to mine. “Is that why you left the hotel that night? You thought I was using some line to get you into bed?”

“I did. And I was a little affected because of the events at my house that day. You see, Marcus Bailey was the celebrity I fell for, and he’d just stormed into my house, looking for my best friend and instead found you, choked you, and he had no idea who I was. When he looked at me there was no recognition whatsoever.”

“What happened between you two?”

“It really is silly. I was only twenty at the time and just starting out in my career. I was working for MTV and I was chosen to go and interview the great, heartbroken, Marcus Bailey after he’d become a sensation after that YouTube video of his went viral. He was about to go on his world tour, and after the interview, we hooked up. We spent the weekend together before he had to go and we’d talked and talked and… well, I won’t go into the torrid details of it all, but, he made me promises–made me think that the connection we had was something really special that he’d only found in me. I believed it all, and when he said he’d call me, I was stupid enough to think he really would. Then I saw pictures of him on tour in the tabloids and he had his tongue stuck down some girl’s throat, and I realised what an idiot I’d been, cried my eyes out and then swore to never get mixed up with a celebrity ever again. And for most girls, that would be an easy task, but in my job, I get a decent amount of offers,” I laugh, feeling ridiculous that this has had to be a rule in my life.

He sits quietly for a moment as he furrows his brow. “I don’t know what to say,” he begins. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

I reach out and run my fingers over his blond hair, and down the side of his lightly stubbled cheek. “Don’t be sorry. Just don’t be a cliché.”

Taking a hold of my hand, he turns his head and kisses my palm before reaching out to me, cupping the side of my neck and pulling me closer. My tongue sneaks out and wets my lips as they part, ready and waiting for his mouth to meet mine, and when it does, it’s like my body comes to life, and I’m finally doing that thing I’ve always craved but never knew I wanted.

I had thought I wanted someone with a stable, dependable job. A man who would give me space, listen to my opinions, and understand that my career’s important too. A man who’s normal, loyal, faithful…In reality, I wanted this man, the very antithesis of everything I thought I wanted–a man who could very easily shatter my heart and make it so that no man, stable or otherwise could ever break down my walls if things didn’t work out for us. Being with Jonathan is a risk. But it’s a risk I need to take.

Slowly, we lay back on the couch, with Jonathan holding himself over me, his hand resting casually on my waist as his mouth moves with mine, tongues exploring, lips sucking and brushing. Desire, lust and emotions I dare not explore in this moment, swirl their way through my body as I move my hand to his and urge it beneath my tank top, toward my breast.

As his fingers brush the underside of my heavy flesh, he realises I’m not wearing a bra and lets out this moan that sounds so erotic that a bolt of pleasure rushes straight to my core and presents itself as a gasp in my mouth. I urge him upward and moan myself when his large hand cups my breast entirely, gently gripping the flesh as he slides his fingers over my rock hard nipple, sending another jolt of pleasure to my core.