Celeb Crush (35 page)

“Fuck,” he mutters, scowling.  “How do they keep finding us?  It’s like I’ve got a tracking device implanted in my neck, or something.”

“I thought about doing that to Martin Ewing once,” I reminisce, staring off into space.  “But I could never get my hands on the technology.”

“What, the game show host you wanted to run away with when you were thirteen?” Luke says, proving he has a good memory—and I share way too much information when I’m drunk.  He snickers evilly.  "Isn't he, like, thirty years older than you?  And a convicted murderer?"

I peer out from behind the huge pillar we're currently hiding behind.   "The heart wants what it wants," I say absently.  “Crap, it looks like a whole herd of your fangirls are out there, too.”

“I can call Micah.  We could sneak out a side entrance, or something,” Luke offers.

“No.”  I turn a grim smile on him.  “You thought I could handle this.  Let’s see if you’re right.”

As soon as we step, outside we’re assaulted by a cacophony of ecstatic screams, shutter clicks, and amazingly invasive questions.  These are just some of the ones that get thrown my way:

“Andi!  Are you pregnant?  Are you hiding a bump under that shirt?”

“Andi, honey, is it true that you and Lucas were sneaking around behind Kat’s back for months?”

“Andi!  Who are you wearing?”

“Andi!  Did you and Lucas have a threesome with Jackson?  Who’s the better lover?”

“Andi!  Bitch, is that your natural hair color?”

Luke keeps my hand firmly clasped in his as people push and shove each other to get to us.  The paps shout out personal questions and inappropriate comments galore, but he doesn’t react to any of them.  The only time he stops and acknowledges someone is when it’s a fan.  Not letting go of my hand, he signs autographs and poses for pictures with them.  It makes things pretty damn awkward, but he won’t let go.  I try to behave myself, following his lead.  A girl dressed as Red Riding Hood unconvincingly tells me how pretty I am in front of Luke—but the second he turns away she glares daggers at me and mouths, “Ugly bitch.”  Her costume—if it is a costume—is kickass.

I’m not going to lie.  The experience is overwhelming and scary.  All these people, coming at you like ravenous zombies—and you can’t react, or run away screaming.  You can't even defend yourself—and I've always been an eye-for-an-eye kind of girl.  Oh, well.  At least the insults don’t bother me.  I try to never take them personally, even when they’re suspiciously specific and said with utter conviction.

Micah appears out of nowhere and herds us to the car.  People automatically move aside for him.  He’s not a big guy, but he radiates an aura of authority and carefully suppressed danger.  He just looks at one particularly pushy photographer, and the guy hastily scrambles out of the way.  One day, I will have powers like that.

I get in, but Luke stands in the V of the open car door, letting his screaming fans get their piece of him.  He gives each lucky girl or guy eye contact and flashes his warm brilliant smile, actually connecting with each one of them.  He is genuinely happy to meet everyone, you can tell.  This is why they love him.  This is why he’ll never belong to just me.

People continue to run up, drawn by the shouting crowd surrounding us.  A fight erupts between the press and the fans as they jostle to get closer to Luke.  A face is suddenly smashed against my window, eyes bulging wide in surprise.  I can’t laugh.  I shouldn’t.

Micah steps in, barking at everyone to back away from the car.  A big guy with a red beret and several fancy looking cameras strapped around his chest roughly elbows a preteen girl away.  She staggers painfully to the side, falling into a group of hysterical teens.

“Hey, asshole!”  Luke snaps at Red Beret.  “What’s your problem, man?”

“Lucas!” Micah calls in a clipped voice.  “We have to move.”

Luke mad dogs Red Beret who hastily scurries around to my side, clearly thinking he’d be safer there.  He shoulders his colleagues out of the way as he aims his camera at me.  I unlock my door and accidentally kick it open, nailing him with the edge of it.  He squeaks in pain and clutches his crotch.  Ooh, direct hit.

“Sorry!” I shout before slamming my door shut.  I give him my best apologetic smile.  It’s completely wasted on him.

“Nice shot, Tiger,” Luke, now sitting next to me, leans over to give me a quick but thorough kiss.  The hullabaloo outside immediately intensifies, and the shutter clicks are almost deafening.  “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reassure him.  I stare out the window as Micah carefully maneuvers the car through the throng of people.  I admire his restraint when a few assholes stand their ground in front of us, continuing to take pictures.  I would have happily plowed right through them.

“You handled that like a pro,” Luke is saying in a proud tone of voice.  "I knew you could do this."

I stealthily tuck the jagged lock of hair that a crazed fan had lopped a hunk off behind my ear, and blow air through my closed lips.  "You're right.  Like water off a duck's back."

I glance up and meet Micah's lifeless robot eyes in the rear view mirror.  I'm certain I detect a flicker of frustration in their dark brown depths.  Situations like these tend to put him on edge because he can’t control them like he wants to.  Luke thinks he's invincible, and while his devotion to his fans is admirable, it also makes him a little too accessible and vulnerable.  I can just see myself being stabbed to death with the pointy part of an I Heart LuKat pin while he's busy signing autographs.  If that's the way I go, someone better put my cause of death on my headstone.

Chapter 29

The barbecue is at Damon Spenner’s house in Hollywood Hills.  Damon plays the comic relief, a zombie sidekick to Sam Langelier in the Soul movies.  Before I discovered Martin Ewing, I used to have a massive crush on Damon back when he starred in my favorite television series,
Charlie and the Brain. 
You should have seen him when he was a kid—he was the cutest thing ever with his big hazel eyes, curly dark hair, and those chubby cheeks.  Unfortunately, he was one of those child stars who did not transition well into adulthood.  The deadpan zombie Drake is his big comeback role.  He’s actually really nice and cool, and I experienced a small thrill when I first met him.  He and Luke are pretty close thanks to a mutual love of surfing.

Damon has a cute little Spanish style house, nice but not ostentatious in the least.  There’s already a crowd of paparazzi lurking around the front of the house.  They all want to know the details on Luke’s and Kat’s break up, and if he thinks Kat will cause a scene with me there.  Apparently, we had just missed her arrival few minutes earlier.  Luke keeps his face studiously blank, but I notice a muscle dancing in his clenched jaw, and he keeps shooting me worried looks out of the corner of his eye.  He should be worried.  This will be the first time the she-devil and I will be face to face after the incident in San Diego. 

I knew
she
would be here, along with some of the cast and crew.  I’ve already told Luke that if she don’t start none there won’t be none—but I don’t think he believes me.  I guess he really does know me.  No, I’m going to behave myself.  The Soul crew considers each other family rather than just coworkers, so I’ve already resigned myself to seeing a lot more of her at these little get-togethers they’re always throwing. 

The barbecue is a much more relaxed and casual event than that stupid garden party.  There is nothing fancy about Damon’s backyard, but it has a great wooden deck and a beautiful view of the city below.  Familiar faces are seated at the picnic tables near the spa, or relaxing on stone benches surrounding a brick fire pit.  There are two unmanned stainless steel barbecues wafting smoke and the smell of cooking meat into the air.  It mixes comfortably with the sounds of laughter and music, and the sharp scent of alcohol.  It’s almost like any group of close-knit friends enjoying a warm California summer day—if you ignore the fact that most of them are famous and ridiculously attractive.   

As soon as we step outside, I immediately search for Kat.  I spot Nate with Eyan and Rob talking to someone who I think is Antoine Lewis’ wife, and a pretty dark haired girl whom I don’t recognize.  Nate catches my eye and gives a lazy wave before turning back to the dark-haired girl with a charming smile.  Come on, Nate.  She can’t be older than sixteen.

My gaze passes over, and then comes back to the impeccably dressed and cancerously tan woman standing on the deck and talking to Damon and his girlfriend.  My eyes narrow and I tug on the back of Luke’s shirt. 

“What’s she doing here?” I growl, nodding toward Jessica.

He slips on his sunglasses and glances in the direction I’m looking in.  “Jess just took Damon on as a client.  Hey, it’s a good thing.  You know she’s one of the best in the business.”

“She’s a piranha,” I grumble, glaring when I accidentally make eye contact with her.  She glares right back before turning back to Damon with a dazzling fake smile.

Luke slings an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him, and sweetly kissing my temple.  “Try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum today, okay?” 

"I can't promise you anything."

I scan the backyard like a soldier about to cross into enemy territory.   I know and get along with most of the people here, but since Luke and I got together I've become a different animal to them.  I see the looks we’re getting, and it makes me both defensive and wary.  I’m sure they’ve all heard Kat’s side of things, and have already cast me as the villain in the love story of LuKat.  I hate that nickname, by the way.  I don’t know why I keep using it.

There she is.  Oh, look, she’s wearing a bright blue dress similar to mine, except the top is a halter style with a neckline that plunges down to her waist.  She manages to look both classy and sexy though her dress is even sluttier than mine.  And I can see her pointy nipples from here.  What is with blonde girls and their nipples?  I just want to twist them off.  Not in a sexual way.  Kat's hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and I can’t help but compare it with my own messy sex hair.  Looking at her, it’s hard to believe Luke’s with me and not her.  Physically, she’s a perfect fit for him, they share a longer history—and they actually get along better than he and I do. 

She’s standing with the actresses who play her sister and best friend.  I’ve never really spent much time with them, but they both seem nice.  Kaya Delucca—the pixie blonde who plays Alexa’s sister, Jana—catches me staring and whispers something to Kat.  Kat immediately turns in our direction.  Her eyes lock on Luke with his arm around me, and her expression falters.  Emma, the dark-haired one, puts a comforting hand on her arm and speaks rapidly to her.  It looks like she’s giving her a pep talk.  Kat just nods along, breathing deeply.

I glance over at Luke to see if he’s looking at her, but he’s distracted by someone yelling out a drunken greeting at him.  He doesn’t notice when Kat starts walking over to us.  I watch Luke carefully, waiting for his reaction when he sees her.  I want to yank off his sunglasses so I can see his unguarded expression.  If he feels something for her, I’m certain I’d be able to see it in his eyes—a flicker of some non-platonic emotion, or something.  My gut clenches anxiously.  I wish I wasn’t worried, but I am.  It honestly terrifies me.  And when I get scared, I get violent.

My entire body is rigid.  Luke turns his attention back to me, eyebrows raised in concern.  Then Kat calls out a greeting and he swivels his head to look at her.  He stares at her for a few seconds before his lips curve up in an answering smile.  I can’t tell what’s going on behind his dark Oakleys, damn it.  Is he happy to see her?  Does he think she looks hot?
Is he looking at her nipples?  It’s weird to realize that we’ve both seen her naked.  My hand resting on Luke’s side turns into a claw, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt, and into his skin.  He winces just a little.

“Hi guys,” Kat says, and I can see how hard it is for her to maintain a friendly façade.  What a shitty actress.

“Hey, Kat.”  Luke carefully removes my claws from his side.  He keeps my hand, giving it a small squeeze.  I’m not sure if it’s for support, or is it a subtle warning?  I squeeze his hand back extra hard in case it’s the latter.

She turns her smile on me, but my expression remains neutral.   I’m not going to start a fight, not in front of Luke.  But I’m not going to smile back and pretend like everything is fine and dandy.  I used to think Kat was pretty decent, but now I have no respect for her—and why should I hide that?  Secretly, I’m glad that I have a legit reason to hate her.  Ha, Miss Perfect isn’t so perfect after all.

When Kat realizes I’m not going to play nice, her face becomes uncertain.  She sneaks a peak at Luke, but he’s turned toward me.  She gives a little sigh, and I can just feel her refraining from rolling her eyes.  Poor thing, being forced to socialize with a peasant like me.

She fiddles with the diamond bracelet around her wrist nervously.  “Can I talk to you, Angi—Andi?  In private?”

“No,” I snarl.

Kat’s blue eyes widen.  She turns to Luke with a wounded “I’m trying here” expression.  I take it back—she’s a pretty damn good actress.

Her feminine wiles actually work on him.  “Andi…” he says cajolingly.