Hand of Thorns (8 page)

There is that little voice in my head saying this isn't smart. That I shouldn't hang out with him without Ellie around. That I'm going to fuck everything up somehow. Then there is the other voice telling me what I'm doing is harmless, because I know what lines not to cross, and I know that he has zero feelings for me. And all I have for him is a measly little crush, because he is insanely attractive. Nothing more.

"So... what you were thinking?"

His little grin lifts higher. "Ice cream?"

"Because I'm pregnant? Are there going to be pickles too?"

He stares blankly at me. Obviously he never heard of pickles and ice cream before, so now I feel like an idiot. He shrugs though after a second and says, "Sure, I can pick you up some."

I know damn well my face blushes, but I try to play it off like I'm not super embarrassed. "No, I was making a reference to something. Never mind. Yeah, ice cream sounds good." My words are rushed, but I don't care. I made my point.

He starts walking towards the parking lot. "Where is Ellie?" I ask, following alongside him. I don't technically care, except that I'm incredibly curious. I'm curious about a lot, mainly why he felt the need to celebrate with me rather than with her.

"Airport. I had to drop her off after the appointment."

"So you came back for me?"

His only response is to glance over at me for a few seconds, then he continues forward. I follow along, waiting for an answer I know I'm not going to receive. Probably because it's obvious, seeings as he is right here.

He drives an extremely gorgeous bright red Toyota Supra that I don't even know if I want to touch. I look up at him while standing outside the passenger door. "This is yours?"

"I have good taste, what can I say?"

"That this thing must go fast."

He chuckles. "Oh, it does, but don't worry, I won't drive fast. I have precious cargo I need to keep safe." He winks as he opens the door.

Nothing could have prepared me for the reaction my body has from both his words and that wink. Does he mean me or the baby is precious cargo? I tell myself he means the baby, but something else is telling me that is false.

Taking a cleansing breath, I open the door and settle into the low seat of his sports car. It's as beautiful on the inside as it is on the out. He tells me to buckle and without a moment’s notice, he is pulling from the parking lot and buzzing down the road. I don't think he is speeding, but I'm frozen into place. With my thoughts, and the feel of this car, and the fact we're in far too small of a space to be alone, I'm pretty well captivated.

He pulls into a family fun park where there is a long building, which has about fifteen windows where they serve ice cream. Several people stand outside of them waiting for their frozen treats. He parks the car a pretty good distance from the building, so we have to walk over in the scorching hot sun.

"So are you from around here?" he asks while we walk. He is a lot more commutative now than he has been. He's also extremely personable, but that much I gathered before now.

"Lived in Los Angeles my whole life."

"I'm from San Diego. Ever been?"

"Quite a bit when I was younger. I have an aunt that lives there, actually. Our families aren't close like they used to be, but when I was younger it seemed like we were always visiting back and forth."

"What part is she from?"

"San Marcos."

"Nice. I grew up around North Park. I love San Diego, but it was too much of a commute each day. After I'm finished with this film I may buy a house back home though."

It's the first time he's even mentioned his career- unlike Ellie, who has brought it up several times now. Hers, not his. It sometimes surprises me that she is the type of woman to have a boyfriend or the want for a child, where she seems to building her career up more and more, and she obviously loves every bit of it.

I don't think of her though, I want to know more about Leon. I tell myself it's because I want to know what kind of father this baby is going to grow up with, but if I'm not lying to myself, it's because I'm interested in what kind of person he is in general.

"What made you become an actor?" I ask after a moment. I don't want to push him to discuss things he doesn't want to. I know he gets enough paparazzi and news reporters asking him this and that.

"My mom pushed my brother and me to do it. Used to drive my dad insane, but it didn't matter to her. She'd get us up at six o'clock on a Saturday morning to drive us five hours to an audition. Finally we got to do some magazine shoots, and it took off from there."

"So your brother acts, too?"

He starts laughing, looking down at me like he's covering some hilarious secret. "You could say that."

"What is so funny?"

"Ever heard of Richard Fitzwell?"

I try to think if it even sounds familiar, but it really doesn't. "No, don't believe I have."

"Probably because he goes by his nickname."

We're closing in on the windows of the shop, so I hurry to rack my brain for what the nicknames of Richard are. "Rich?"

"Nah."

"Richie?"

"Nope." He starts to smile, amused by my answer. We stand behind two girls in line while I think of something else.

"Oh, duh. Dick."

He winks, and just as before it sends a tantalizing feeling throughout my body.

"So why didn't you just call him Dick Fitzwell?" As soon as I say the name out loud my face flushes with embarrassment.

One lady in front of me gasps, turning to give me a crooked look, as if my words truly insulted her. I bite down on my lip, giving Leon a glare that should slice through him. He shrugs. "I was trying to respect my surroundings."

"You're an ass," I hiss out.

He starts to chuckle. "I wasn't lying. That is what he goes by."

"He's a..."

He leans in close to whisper. "Porn star? Yeah. Not exactly what my mom had intended for him, but he does well with it apparently."

"I'm a bit unsure if I ever want to meet your family."

He stands tall again, still highly amused. "We're an interesting bunch."

I can concur to that statement. Then my mind wanders to the fact he must come from some seriously incredible genes if he's one of Hollywood's biggest aspiring actors, and looks the way he does, then he has a brother who is obviously attractive and well-endowed enough to be a porn star. I have to advert my eyes away from Leon so I don't try to figure out if he, too, is large.

Definitely not an okay thought to be having.

"What would you enjoy?"

"Excuse me?" I look back to Leon, my face definitely pink this time. My mind was overthinking perverted thoughts, and he is asking what I'd enjoy. It takes me a second to register what he means. What kind of
ice cream
flavor would I enjoy. "Oh, um, cookie dough, please," I stutter.

He corks a brow, probably wondering why I'm such a hot mess. He doesn't say anything though, not until he orders for the both of us, telling the lady at the window he'd enjoy two large cookie dough ice creams on cones.

It surprises me she doesn't stir when she looks at Leon. In fact, I'm surprised he isn't being attacked by fans. He is Leon fucking Owens, as Sumner put it. He is wanted by every female in the world from the age of fourteen to forty, and so far I have only seen a couple people do a double take.

We walk over to a nearby picnic table to eat our ice cream. "Thank you," I tell him when we sit down.

"So what made you want to do this anyways?"

"Eat ice cream?" I ask before taking a small bite.

He takes one of his own, continuing after it starts to melt in his mouth a little. "No, get pregnant for someone else."

"Oh." I look past him rather than at him. It's sad to say that I almost forgot I was currently knocked up. With his kid. "I figured I may as well help out a couple in need while I was young and capable..."

"No," he interrupts. "The
real
reason. You're not enthusiastic about it. You looked far more ill in the exam room than excited. It doesn't seem like your heart is in it."

I bow my head shamefully. "I'm sorry. It's not that I don't want to be. It's different than I was expecting. I didn't mean to upset anyone. I'll be more excited from now on."

"I'm not upset," he states boldly. "I'm more concerned. For you."

"For me? Why?"

"You looked sad today."

"I didn't think you noticed me."

He doesn't say anything for a second, but he does look my face over. He has a softer appearance right now than normal. Less masculine and more... friendly. Equally as attractive. "I notice you, Monica."

"Oh." I'm completely unsure what more to say. Thanks? I notice you, too?

"Do you regret it?"

"Not for a second." Which is the truth. "It's the hormones. Not to mention I'm exhausted and stressed out, and I'm really trying not to be." Oh, and you’re fucking stunning and it’s vastly distracting.

"You shouldn't stress out or over exert yourself. If you need a weekend away to relax, say the word and I'll book you at a resort."

"I couldn't ask you for that."

"Look what you're doing for us. The least I could do is make sure you're keeping yourself well rested and happy." All it takes is the simplicity of the word
us
for reality to come crashing down around me, awakening the fact that this isn't about him and I. It's not even about me. This is about Ellie and Leon, and their unborn child.

Suddenly I'm not so hungry, and I'm only half finished. I stand up from the bench and walk towards the trash, dumping the remainder in there. "Sorry, I'm not that hungry right now. Thank you for the ice cream though."

He cocks his head to the side, looking at me curiously. He definitely is aware of far too much. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't."

He stands up as well, as I'm about to sit. "Then let's go."

"Finish your ice cream."

He walks over and dumps it into the can as well. "I'm lactose intolerant, I shouldn't eat dairy anyways."

"Then why did you eat ice cream?"

He stops in front of me, looking down at me. "Because you're pregnant. Pregnant girls love ice cream."

My heart skips a beat suddenly at his thoughtfulness, but I try to ignore it. "Oh, right, that."

"Can I touch it?"

"What?"

"Your... stomach." He shakes his head. "The baby. I don't know. I'm new at this. You can't feel it yet, can you?"

Instantly I'm brought to a smile. I truly enjoy seeing this side of Leon. "No I can't feel the spud yet, but you can still rub my stomach if you want."

I lift my shirt for him. His hand rests against my bare skin. I want to tell myself it doesn't feel magical. I want to convince everything within me that I'm not melting from his simple touch. Except I don't want this moment to end, because it's all around incredible.

"Spud?"

"What?"

"You said Spud," he states.

"Oh. Yeah. Well they said it looks like a potato during the ultrasound."

"I like it." He nods his head acceptingly. "How are you doing in there, Spud?" His thumb lightly graces the bare of my skin directly above my belly button before he removes his hand, but within an instant he places it on the side of my face. With a natural reaction, I push my cheek into his embrace, feeling the happiness everywhere, even between my legs.

His thumb runs smoothly along my cheek bone before dropping his hand to his side. "Sorry," he mutters. "I shouldn't have done that."

Instead of responding, I bite nervously on my lip, turning my face from him.

"Are you ready?"

I nod my head to answer, following behind him as he walks towards his vehicle.

The ride back to the agency is silent and uncomfortable. I'm not sure what happened, and why he felt the need to caress me the way he did. I'm not upset whatsoever about it, I'm simply confused. The only part that hurt me was when I saw on his face that he regretted that moment.

When he parks in back of my car, I look over at him, trying to ease the tension building between us. "Thank you for the ice cream. It was really good."

"I meant it when I said that if you need to get away for the weekend to let me know."

I smile with gratitude. "I'd like that sometime."

"Take my number, in case you need me. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

I pull out my phone to program his name and number. It's surreal to me that he's acting like my friend right now, instead of a famous celebrity.

A question lingers at the tip of my tongue as I reach to open the door, but I glance back at him to ask, even though I'm unsure I want to know the answer. "Do you remember me?"

His lip lifts to the side. "From where?"

Obviously he doesn't if he has to ask, but I say it anyways. "The movie premiere. The one back in May."