“What’s that?” I ask.
“Take off your shirt. We’re going for the money shot here.”
“You don’t think that’s a little too much?”
She makes a face and I shake my head. “Fine.” I tug my sweat-soaked shirt over my head and toss it on the nearest bench. Lucy’s eyes widen when she sees my bare torso, but if she’s thinking anything, she keeps it to herself.
Tommy moves out of my way and stands next to her. “Ready,” he says. “Go!”
I go through the routine, hyperaware of not only Lucy videoing me but the simple fact she’s watching me. I focus on the workout, because there’s no way I want to mess up and have to do it again. I’m in the next to last stage of sit-ups when I see Tommy brush up against her and whisper something in her ear.
She smiles.
Nope. No. That is not happening.
I flip to my stomach and press through the push-ups. Seven, eight, nine…I push through the last one and collapse, groaning on my side.
“Dean!” Lucy shouts running over. I’m gasping for breath and my arms and legs quiver beneath me. She drops down on her knees. “Are you okay?”
“Just dying a little.” I feel her cool hand press against my forehead. It feels nice.
“Man,” Tommy says, standing over me. “That was epic.”
“Dude, can you get me my water?”
“Yep,” he walks off to where I left my bag.
“That was pretty impressive, Dean Turner.” She holds up her phone. “I got the whole thing.”
She’s on her knees next to me, closer than she’s ever been before. I look across the room and see Tommy, getting my water.
“Hey listen,” I say, pushing up on my elbows. I wince, feeling the ache in my stomach muscles. I feel like I need to do this now. “My agent got tickets for the Waybacks concert and said I could have them. Do you want to go with me?”
“Waybacks? I love them.”
I grin. Ouch. That hurts, too. “So yeah?”
“Yes,” she agrees, smiling down at me and I feel her walls crumbling a little. “I’d love to go with you.”
“I mean, we need to get you out there some. You’ve got my social media rolling. It’s time we focused on you.”
Her smile falters, just a little, but Tommy walks up and offers me a hand. I take it and get off the floor, every muscle in my body groaning. Lucy holds up the phone. “I’m going to email this to you so you can post it, okay, then I probably need to go.”
“Leaving already?” Tommy asks, shifting his focus to her, but she’s already gone for her stuff.
“See you later,” I call after her.
She smiles and waves, heading out the door.
Tommy watches her walk out the door and then looks at me. “Did you just ask her out?”
I reach for my shirt and use it to wipe my face. “No.”
“Dude,” he says, “level with me. How come you’re not all over that? She’s…”
“Not interested and neither am I.”
He blinks. “For real? You’re not interested in her.”
To say no is a stretch. I do think Lucy’s interesting but that’s not what this is about. “It’s complicated, Tommy. And she needs to focus right now. She’s got that big competition coming up. The last thing she needs is a guy to distract her.”
“You said she needs to work on her confidence, having someone interested in you feels pretty good.”
I shoot him a glare. “It’s not that kind of confidence.”
“No?” he shakes his head. “If you ask me, the one thing missing in that girl’s life is an awesome guy.”
“Nobody asked you.”
He rolls his eyes. “I know you’re doing great with your acting and stuff, but that doesn’t mean you get to claim the girl and not date her.”
“I’m not claiming anyone, Tommy. Ask her out. There’s nothing I can do to stop her if she wants to go out with you.”
“So you’re okay with it.”
No. Not a chance.
“Yeah, whatever. It’s none of my business.”
He eyes me warily. “Then maybe I’ll ask her out.”
“Go for it,” I say, knowing I’m being petty. I can’t say it out loud, but I don’t want him to ask her out even though I definitely have no claim on her. We’re just friends. People in a business agreement. Nothing more.
I tug my shirt over my head and head to get my bag.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
19
Lucy
The morning broke warm and blue-skied, encouraging me and Maya to head down to the beach. It’s fall, but we still get some warm days and after everything that’s happened the last couple weeks, I need to chill on the sand.
It’s early so there aren’t too many people out this early in the morning. Mostly dog walkers and surfers floating on the waves. Their wet-suit-clad bodies bob up and down in the distance, occasionally popping up to catch a wave.
We spread out towels out on the sand. Maya has her textbook and a highlighter and I pull off my shirt to feel the sun against my skin. I’d slathered sunscreen all over before we left the house—the last thing I needed was a sunburn with TNBM coming up.
I held my phone up over my head and took a selfie. Then uploaded it to ChattySnap and tagged it #lastdaysofsummer #OGB
I scrolled down my feed and saw the video of Dean working out. I press play and relive the moment from the day before. I’d known Dean was fit. I’d seen him on Avondale and even caught a few glimpses here and there, but what I witnessed first-hand at the gym was like seeing a masterpiece in person. His body is like sculpted marble covered in a smooth layer of tan skin. Under the guise of videoing him, I had the opportunity to fully ogle him. Ogle. I watched as his muscles rippled and worked, his chest heaved from the strain. He pushed himself to a level I’d never witnessed before. It made me see him in a whole new light.
The video itself had thousands of likes and comments. I had a feeling it would go over well. I wasn’t wrong.
I place the phone under my towel and allow the rhythmic rush of waves on the beach to calm down my beating heart. I know it’s a natural reaction to an incredibly good-looking boy. I could probably show Maya the video and she’d feel the same way, even though she’s madly in love with Christian. With my justifications in place, I let the ocean lull me to sleep. It’s only when my phone vibrates that I jerk awake and instinctively check.
D: Where are you?
L: At the beach.
D: Where at the beach?
L: Fifth Street entrance. Why?
A moment later he sends a picture. He’s wet, out in the ocean, floating on a board.
I stand and look out at the water. One of the surfers lifts a hand and waves. Maya glances up. “What’s going on?”
“I think Dean’s out there.” I point at the water.
“Surfing?”
I nod and walk toward the hard-packed sand at the water’s edge. The figure that’d waved to me is now flat on his belly, looking over his shoulder for a wave. I see one swell behind him and he starts paddling. I whip out my phone and start to record. Dean, I can now see his dark hair and outline of his sharp features, rises to his feet and stabilizes, knees bent, muscular thighs holding him balanced. He maneuvers the board with precision, directing it toward where I stand. His bright grin greets me as he makes it to the shore, jumping off before he crashes.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing his board before it washes away.
“Were you using your phone out there?”
He unzips his suit, giving a peek of his chest. He flashes a waterproof pouch. “I try not to get distracted, but I saw that picture of you and knew you must be nearby.”
He steps onto the sand and his gaze rakes over me, making me aware of my exposed skin.
“You’re very good,” I tell him, pointing to the surfboard. “I was able to record it.”
“Yeah?” he says, shaking his hair and lowering his zipper a l
ittle more.
Droplets of freezing cold water fly across my chest and stomach.
“Hey!” I shout, pushing him with my hands. He’s a brick wall and doesn’t move an inch.
“Afraid you’ll melt?” he laughs, moving to shake his head again.
I dive at him but he's quick, grabbing my wrists. “You trying to fight me, Lucy Harrington?”
He’s breathing heavy from surfing and my eyes keep drifting back to his chest, now fully exposed. I shake my hands free, needing a little space.
“You out here alone?” I ask.
“Nah, that’s Adam out there. He’s like, a wave perfectionist. He’ll miss a dozen good ones waiting for the right one.” He tugs his arms loose, giving an amazing view of his lean, muscular arms. He glances up and grins, like he knows I’m looking.
“Yeesh,” I mutter, looking away so he can’t see me blush, “and everyone thinks I’m vain.”
“Some people call it vanity. I call it confidence,” he says. I feel his eyes on me again and I cross my arms over my stomach. The suit isn’t overly revealing. I know I don’t need to be an exhibitionist to look good. In fact, my suit is pretty tasteful. Black crocheted halter with matching boy shorts. I’m fully covered except my stomach.
“Tell me you don’t feel confident in that bikini,” he says suddenly.
I shrug. “I do. I guess. I know I have the figure to pull it off.”
It’s not the suit that’s making me nervous. It’s the way Dean’s looking at me.
“So how often do you come out here?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.
“As much as I can.” His eyes skim the horizon. His skin is a warm bronze. He looks every bit the leading man. “You still in for the concert tonight? Because if you don’t want to go, it’s okay.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I love Waybacks. They’re so unique.”
He smiles and runs his hand through his wet hair, making it stick up. “Good. Me, too.”
We stand awkwardly, the water rushing over our toes. It’s the first time Dean and I have been together without some kind of ulterior motive—a purpose. This is just a random meet-up at the beach and it’s kind of hard to fill the gaps, although the pounding of my heart is trying to do the job. I’m hoping tonight won’t be as weird.
Luckily, Adam must finally find the perfect wave because he paddles in and hops up on the board, lazily riding all the way to the shore. “He’s got to work in a little bit and I used the truck to haul the boards.”
“Right,” I say, taking a step back to my things.
“I’ll pick you up at six?”
“Sounds perfect.” I take two more steps, fighting the urge to run.
As I walk back to Maya and my towel, it takes extreme willpower not to look back and see if he’s watching me.
The goosebumps running along my arms tells me that he is.
20
Dean
I’m rummaging around my closet, looking for my leather jacket, when Emily walks in my room.
“Hey loser,” she says, flopping back on the bed. Sisters. There’s nothing better to keep your ego in check.
“Hey sunshine. What’s up?”
“It smells like an AXE store exploded in here so I figured I’d come see what you’re up to.” She eyes my outfit; a gray shirt and a pair of dark jeans Lucy picked out. I reach for my Converse. “Nope.”
I pause. “What?”
“Don’t wear sneakers. It’s like you went to all this trouble and then stopped at your feet.”
I make a face but pick up my boots. I walk over and sit on the bed to put them on. “Since when did you become so knowledgeable about dating?”
Her eyes pop open. “I knew it! It is a date!”
“Wait, what?” I realize what I’d done. “No. It’s not a date-date. It’s just two friends hanging out.”
“A friend you want to look,” she leans over and sniffs me, “and smell good for.”
I push her back and she lands against my pillows. I prop my foot on the edge of the mattress and tie the laces. “Lucy is the one that picked this out for me. She thinks I need to up my fashion game if I’m going to make it as a leading actor.”
Emily nods. “Lucy is very wise. All the more reason you should date her.”
“Em,” I warn, then decide it’s best to change the subject. “So, what’s the plan for your birthday next week?”
“The norm. Becca and Mia and Ansley are coming for a sleepover. We’re going to watch rom-coms and do make overs.” She gasps suddenly. “You should totally invite Lucy to come over.”
“Yeahhhh, no.” I give her a sympathetic grin. “Not happening.”
“Why not? The girls would freak.”
“You just answered your own question.” I stand and tug at my shirt, hoping I didn’t wrinkle it.
“You look great, bro,” she says. “She’ll totally want to kiss you by the end of the night.”
I lunge for her but she tosses a pillow at my head and manages to dart from the room, slamming her door to secure her escape. I throw the pillow back on the bed and walk over to the mirror to fuss with my hair a bit more before grabbing my coat and heading downstairs.
What I told Emily is true. It’s not a date.
Even though it sure feels like one.
21
Lucy
I comb my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it. It’s harder and harder as it grows out. That’s the part Fiona didn’t get when she saddled me with this style. The growing-out stage of short hair. It stinks.
I rush around my tiny room, looking for the pair of wedges that match the dress I bought the other day. It was expensive, eating a chunk of my budget, but the way Dean looked at me when he saw me in it…
Well, I knew it was a keeper.
Having guys, or even girls, attracted to me isn’t new. I turned down a lot of dates at the Academy. None took it personally since it was well-known I didn’t date anyone back then. But lately instead of interest or attraction, the look in people’s eyes when they see me is either amusement, entertainment, or pity, including Dean.
But not when he saw me in this dress.
It was only a flicker. I don’t doubt he thinks I’m pretty, but he’s around beautiful actresses all the time. Reese and Lilliana, from Avondale, are two of the most gorgeous girls I’ve ever seen. Their long, silky hair makes me green with jealousy.
No, the looks I get from Dean are more like he’s sizing me up. Like today at the beach—that was more of an assessment of how I looked in a bikini, not actual attraction. And to be honest, when he’d first asked me to the concert I thought there may be something to it, but no. He shut that down quick. Making it clear that the invite is out of obligation. Whatever. I do love Waybacks and seeing them at the amphitheater will be awesome. It’s been a long time since I’ve done something fun.
I push hoops through my ears and walk into the living room.
“Wow.” I look up, Maya and her boyfriend Christian sit on the couch sharing a bowl of ramen. Maya is staring at me, chop sticks mid-air. “Luce, you look amazing.”
Christian glances over and grins. “Lucy Harrington, do you have a date?”
Maya has been dating Christian forever. They’re both in college and met working at his family’s ice cream shop, back when we used to live in the girls' home. They’re total opposites and completely adorable and if anyone can make me want to have a long-term relationship, it’s them.
“It’s not a date,” I say, running gloss over my lips. “It’s just Dean.”
“I saw you talking to him today at the beach. And looking at his abs. And him looking at you. I’m not sure this isn’t a date.”
Christian frowns. “What abs? Whose abs?”
“Lucy’s been hanging out with this guy who has a small role on that Avondale show,” she explains.
Christian raises an eyebrow and the dimple in his cheek appears. “An actor? You switching careers?”
“No.” I hear Dean�
��s truck pull up and I start to the door. “See you later.”
Maya moves faster than I thought possible, ramen sloshing all over her boyfriend. He shouts as the hot water spills all over him but she’s already at the door. “Technically I’m the adult in the house, so really it seems appropriate for me to meet him, don’t you think.”
“No, not really.”
He knocks on the door and Maya squeezes past me to swing it open. Dean stands on the other side looking, ugh, well he looks good. His dark hair curls in that perfectly disheveled way that appears like he didn’t spend a second of time on it. The light gray shirt and the leather jacket I picked out look great. The jeans fit him like a glove and his black boots are the same ones he wore the night I met him.
“Hi,” Maya says, thrusting a hand at him. “I’m Maya, Lucy’s roommate, she didn’t introduce me at the beach today.”
“Oh, hi,” he says, smiling. His eyes dart to me and then over my shoulder. I turn and see Christian picking noodles off his chest as he walks over.
“Hey man, I’m Christian.”
A question flickers in Dean’s eyes and Maya jumps in. “He’s my boyfriend. And yeah, I totally dumped ramen on him. Sorry, babe.”
“No problem,” Christian gives her a grin, then looks back at Dean. “So you’re going to the amphitheater?”
“Yeah, to the concert.”
“Cool, cool.” He lifts his shoulders. “And you’ll be back…”
I shoot Christian a death glare. “Okay, that’s enough, Dad. I’ll be back later.”
“Do you have your phone?” Maya asks.
I roll my eyes and push past her so I’m standing next to Dean. “Ready?”
He gets a good look at me, eyes sweeping from head to toe and he swallows thickly. My stomach does something funny. That look? That’s the look from the other day. “Uh, yeah, I’m good to go.”
He turns to walk to the truck and I feel a death grip on my arm. I look back and Maya’s face is inches from mine. “Girl, are you sure there’s nothing going on between you two?”
Lucy and The Love Pact: Young Adult Fake Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 2) Page 8