Flirting With Fame (Flirting With Fame) (12 page)

 I’m averse to dating good-looking cowboys.

 I’m saving myself for Vikings.

I flushed, the memory of his kiss during the first week of school still as vivid as if it were yesterday. But there was still Reggie. And the show. And, presently, the knee of a movie star pressed against my own.

I shook my head and wrote my own line at the bottom:

 I’m flattered, but between the show and school, I don’t have time for dating.

My neck prickled as I felt Gavin watching me. I glanced up to see him studying my note. I passed the note to Clint with an apologetic glance and returned my focus to trying to translate my dictation transcript into notes that made some semblance of sense on my computer.

The floor rumbled beneath my feet as class ended half an hour later, and students scrambled out of the room. I told Clint I needed to speak with Professor Creed and he should go ahead without me. He wrinkled his forehead at me, but left the room. When we were alone, I turned to Gavin. “So, do you want to meet Duncan Creed?”

“Seriously?” he asked, rubbing his neck. “Um, okay, but I have no idea what to say to him. What if I say something stupid?”

The worried look in his eyes and the fact that
he
was nervous about meeting someone were kind of adorable. I thought back to our conversation earlier and ignored the mild ache in my chest at the thought that I’d missed my chance with him.

“You’ll be fine,” I said. “Come on.”

I led him to the front of the room, where my professor had just finished slipping papers into his leather briefcase.

“Professor Creed?”

My professor beamed at me. “Elise! It’s Duncan, remember?”

“Right. Duncan. I have a . . . a friend who wants to meet you.” Had I really just called a movie star my friend as I introduced him to my literary hero? This seemed all kinds of backward. “This is Gavin Hartley.”

Gavin removed his sunglasses and pushed down the hood. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Oh! The actor!” Professor Creed extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, son.”

Gavin stared at the author’s hand like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. I nudged him in the side. “Gavin and I work together. When I mentioned you were my professor, he said he wanted to come meet you. He’s a big fan. Right, Gavin?”

One more elbow to the side seemed to break the starstruck Gavin out of his trance. He grabbed Professor Creed’s still-extended hand and pumped it enthusiastically, eyes sparkling and face flushed with the excitement of meeting his idol for the first time. I knew that look well. I’d just never seen it from
him
.

“Yes, sir.” Gavin pulled his hand back and shoved it in his pocket. “I think you’re an incredible writer. And
Carnivore’s Teeth
has to be one of the best books of all time.”

“Well, thank you. That means a lot.” Professor Creed’s face lit up. “That’s my favorite, too. It was one of those books that just poured out, you know. I find those to be the best ones.”

I nodded. “I love when that happens.”

“Oh, so you
are
a writer,” Professor Creed said. “I had my suspicions after reading your essays. You’re very good at it, my dear. Maybe I can see some samples? I do have some expertise on the craft.”

“Um, well, I don’t really have anything to share.”

Gavin nudged me. “Come on, Elise, you have a notebook full of stories. I saw it earlier.”

I gaped at him. What was wrong with him? There was no way in the hottest of hells
Duncan Creed
would ever get a glimpse at my scribbled short stories.

“What?” Gavin shrugged. “The parts I read seemed great. There was even some kissing. In fact, in one I skimmed over it went past that and into—”

“Okay!” I thrust him toward the stairs. “Don’t you need to get to the set? I’m sure you have lots to do. Scripts to memorize, costumes to be sized for . . .”

“I probably have a few minutes.” The smirk on Gavin’s face fueled me to push him harder to the exit.

“Nope. You don’t.” I grinned through what had to be the reddest of faces at my professor. “Bye, Professor Creed. Thanks.”

“Duncan.”

“Right.”

“See ya, Duncan,” Gavin said with a wave. “If they ever make a movie of one of your books . . .”

“You’ll be the first person I call, Mr. Hartley.”

The pride that flashed across Gavin’s face warmed me from my toes to my head. As we finally left the classroom, Gavin slung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a side hug. I struggled to keep myself from closing my eyes and resting my head against his taut chest. His now familiar cinnamon scent did little to help. When his grip loosened and I looked up at him, he gave me an excited smile.

“I can’t believe I just met Duncan Creed! Thanks, Elise. I owe you one. Anything you need, you let me know.”

“I had no idea stars could get starstruck.”

“Of course. We have people we admire, too, you know. Creed’s books got me through some pretty tough times. I’m not sure I would’ve made it to where I am now without them. There’s something to be said about the escape reading gives you.”

It was there again, that sadness in his eyes. But then the sunglasses were back on, the hood pulled forward, and everything was lost behind them.

“I suppose acting provides a similar escape,” I said. “Always playing someone else.”

“That it does,” he said. “It’s why I love it so much.”

“I can’t imagine someone like you would have much you’d need to escape.”

He stared at me over the rim of the glasses.
We all have our secrets
, he signed.
I’m sure you have yours.

I bit back a laugh.
I guess I have a few
.

He pushed the sunglasses up his nose. “Well, I’d better get to set. Makeup’s gotta give me some cuts and bruises today. Mind you, you shoved me so hard back there, they may not have to do much.” He pouted and rubbed his bicep.

“Oh, please. Like I could hurt you. Now, go to work, you big baby. I’ll see you there after my next class.”

“Fine, fine. Jeez, you’re forceful sometimes. I see why Aubrey hired you.” He reached for the door and then turned back to sign,
Thanks again. That was one of the more awesome moments of my life. And it’s because of you
.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips across my cheek before opening the door and stepping into the sunshine. My fingers traced the place on my cheek where he’d lingered, noting it was right beside my scar. I took a deep breath and a few moments to compose myself before following him out of the building. I tripped on a wayward branch on the first step, and my heart met my throat as I fell toward the concrete. A pair of strong arms grabbed me.

“Easy, darlin’,” Clint said as I looked up at him in surprise. “First you reject me kissin’ you, and then you’re fallin’ right into my hands like a baby calf. You’re givin’ me mixed signals here.”

“What are you still doing here, cowboy? Don’t you have another class to get to?”

He righted me and helped me down the rest of the steps before we headed across campus. October kicked up a crisp breeze as we walked, and I pulled my cardigan tighter around my shoulders.

“I wanted to make sure everythin’ was okay. You were actin’ strange in class. Now I know why.”

He pointed to the right, where Gavin stood in the center of the quad. He was surrounded by surprisingly pushy girls, all clamoring to get his attention. He waded expertly through them, signing autographs and posing for selfies as he headed to his car.

“That’s the dude from the show you’re workin’ on, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you back there. He was trying to remain inconspicuous. Guess it didn’t work.”

“It’s all good, darlin’. As long as you’re okay. And at least now I know why you keep sayin’ no when I ask you out. You two sure were lookin’ mighty cozy.”

I almost choked. “Ha! No, it’s nothing like that. He’s dating Aubrey. Remember? They’re all over the news.”

We made it to the building for my next class. Based on the empty entranceway, I was late again.

“I know, I saw them at the bar. But I also know he didn’t take his eyes off you most of the class.”

“I think you’re seeing things, cowboy. Maybe you’re just jealous.” I rubbed at the knee of my jeans, where the hint of a brown coffee stain was evidence of the fact that Gavin had spent the entire lecture with his leg pressed against mine.

“Could be, darlin’. Could be. But I know when I’ve been outdrawn.” Clint tugged on his hat. “Will I at least see you at the café tonight?”

“You’re performing again, right?”

It had become routine, when I wasn’t on set, for Reggie and me to trek down to the crowded coffee shop and watch Clint read poetry. Reggie would scream and clap for him, pulling me back onto the couch each night when I tried to leave the moment he was done.

Reggie always took extra time getting ready when she knew we’d be seeing Clint. I couldn’t figure out why she didn’t just ask him out. She didn’t appear to have any confidence issues. But when I’d bring it up, she’d stammer and turn a deeper shade of crimson than my sweater.

“A-yup,” Clint said. “Nine o’clock.”

“I’m heading to set after this class, but filming’s supposed to wrap at eight. I’ll try to get there for sure. If I don’t see you beforehand, good luck.” I paused. “And, cowboy . . . if I’m not there, I think you should make sure you spend some time with Reggie. You two have more in common than you probably realize.”

He regarded me for a moment. “I will. Thanks, darlin’. Have fun on set today.”

“Honestly? I’d rather go home and sleep for about thirty hours.”

“You could quit,” Clint offered.

“I can’t, actually. It’s kind of complicated. Later, cowboy.”

“Bye, darlin’.”

I pried the door open and watched Clint disappear across the lawn with the light glinting off his hat, like an old movie character walking into the sunset.

•   •   •

Two gleaming swords met in the skyline. In my mind, the sound rang across the horizon as they became one. Gavin kicked out at Tanner Dryden, the actor playing Elof, and the man stumbled into the sand. As he tumbled, Tanner kicked sand into Gavin’s face and Gavin coughed as the grains entered his open mouth.

Everything stopped as the director yelled “Cut!” and Gavin left, presumably to clean himself up.

Veronica tapped my shoulder. “Be a dear and get me a coffee from craft services, would you?”

She mimed picking up a cup and drinking it.

“That’s not the sign for coffee.” I placed my fists one on top of the other and rotated the top fist in a counterclockwise direction. “That is.”

My attempted ASL lesson was in vain, however, as Veronica had already pulled out her phone and no longer looked in my direction. She swatted me away like a pesky mosquito, and I curled my hands into fists as I spun on my heel.

I weaved through the cameras and crew members, nodding at the people who offered a wave in my direction. As I passed Dag’s shack, I glanced around. No one seemed to be watching me. The shack had been given a removable fourth wall for exterior shots since my first day. If I had to do such stupid things as bringing Veronica coffee, I should at least be allowed a few moments alone in the home of the character I created.