To Love Jason Thorn (14 page)

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.

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.