Heartthrob

by Katie McCoy

  “Penny?” a male voice had me spinning around on my stool.

  “Jason?”

  He was just as good looking as his picture, standing there in a charcoal suit with the top button undone. I smiled and stood. Only to find that he had lied on his profile.

  He wasn’t over six feet like he had said. In fact, he barely topped five seven. Which wouldn’t have been a problem, except I was five eight in flats. And I was wearing three inch heels.

  “Um, hi,” I managed, trying to get over the surprise and awkwardness of towering over him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” he said, taking the stool across from me.

  Once we were both seated things felt a little less uncomfortable. And unfortunately, the fact that he had lied on his profile meant that he was getting a second strike. It wasn’t that I had anything against short guys, it was just that most short guys seemed to have a problem with tall girls.

  Jason seemed to be one of those guys.

  “I didn’t know you’d be so tall,” he said, his lip curling up a little in what might have been disgust.

  “My height is on my profile,” I said pointedly.

  “Yeah, but everyone lies about that,” he retorted.

  “Mmhmm.” I took a long drink of my martini.

  “What are you drinking?” he asked, waving down a waiter.

  “Vodka martini,” I said, and his eyes lit up.

  “My favorite,” he said. “Two more,” he told the waiter before turning back to me. “Do you want another one?”

  I stared at him, confused.

  “Just bring us four more,” he said to the waiter. “Looks like I have some catching up to do.”

  He winked at me and gave me a smile that could only be described as predatory.

  “So . . .” He leaned forward onto his elbows. “I really liked your profile.”

  I willed myself to relax. “Thank you,” I said.

  There was a moment of silence.

  “That’s it?” he asked. “You’re not going to compliment my profile?”

  “Um, I liked your profile as well,” I told him, feeling put on the spot. “Especially the part about reading The New Yorker in front of the fireplace. Do you have a fireplace?”

  He snorted. “Fuck no, but that was a good line, wasn’t it?”

  Thankfully the waiter returned before I had a chance to respond.

  “Cheers.” Jason raised his glass.

  I did the same.

  “To new friends.” He clinked his glass against mine. “And hopefully lovers, as well.”

  I choked on my drink.

  He didn’t seem to notice.

  “You’re a little shy, aren’t you?” he asked, apparently ignoring my discomfort.

  “I guess,” I said, knowing that this date was over. He had sailed through his three strikes and was moving onto his sixth or seventh. I took a long drink of my martini.

  “I like shy girls,” he told me, reaching across the table for my hand.

  I tried to pull it away, but he had an iron clad grip on it.

  “You know why I like shy girls?” he asked.

  I really, really didn’t want to know.

  “Because it’s the shy ones that are the freakiest in the bedroom,” he told me with a leer.

  “Please let go of me,” I said.

  “Oh, come on.” Jason pouted. “I’m just having a little fun. Don’t you like to have fun?”

  “Let go of me.” My voice was firm, my other hand wrapped around my half-full martini glass.

  “You should ask nicely,” he said.

  Instead, I poured my martini over his head.

  “You bitch!” He jumped back from the table, knocking his stool over and spraying nearby guests with the vodka that was staining his suit.

  I got to my feet, grabbing my purse, but before I could make an exit, Jason had grabbed my arm. Hard.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he hissed.

  “I believe the lady asked you to let her go,” a familiar voice said.

  I turned, and found Jax Hawthorne standing right behind me.

  2

  Penny

  Jax was even more beautiful close up. And that British accent of his might have even made me swoon if it weren’t for the asshole who was still gripping my arm. I wrestled free from Jason’s grip, stumbling back when he abruptly let go of me. My sky-high blue heels might have been made for catching someone’s eye, but they were crap at helping me catch my balance.

  Luckily, someone else was there to catch me.

  “You alright?” Jax wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him.

  I practically heard the entire room swoon, and that’s when I realized we had a very large audience.

  “I’m fine,” I said, regaining my balance and taking a step away from Jax.

  Unlike Jason, he let me go without any resistance.

  “This really isn’t any of your business,” my Tinder date from hell piped in.

  Jax stepped forward, and Jason stepped back. Even at twelve Jax had been tall, but now, he seemed to tower over everyone, including my date.

  “I’m pretty sure that when you put your unwelcomed hands on Penny, you made it my business,” Jax said smoothly.

  My eyebrows went up. He did recognize me.

  “Oh.” Jason’s eyes darted between the two of us. “I didn’t know that you two knew each other,” he said, stammering.

  “We’re very old friends.” Jax put his arm around Jason, his hand tight on his shoulder. I was pretty sure I saw the other man wince at the grip. “Not that it should matter, right?” Jax asked. “Because if a woman says no, you listen. Even if she isn’t friends with a celebrity.” I could see him tighten his grip, and Jason let out an audible yelp. “Isn’t that right?”

  Jason managed a tight nod.

  “Great,” Jax said with a smile, releasing Jason. “Glad we sorted that out.” He patted Jason on the shoulder so hard that the other man jerked forward. “Now please get the bloody hell out of my sight.”

  Jason didn’t waste a second, stumbling through the crowd and out of the bar before another threat could be issued.

  Everyone was still staring at us, so Jax gave the gathering group a smile and waved down a bartender.

  “Drinks for everyone,” he said. “And don’t forget to treat your dates with respect.”

  Everyone applauded. I wanted to disappear into the crowd.

  Gathering up my purse, I hoped I could escape just as quickly as Jason had done, but before I could, Jax stepped in front of me, a big, genuine smile on his face.

  “Penny Pollack,” he said. “How the bloody hell have you been?”

  I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.

  “Hi, Jax,” I muttered. “Good to see you again.”

  He shook his head at me. “Really? After fifteen years that’s the response I get? Even after I saved you from the Wall Street troll? Don’t I get a hero’s reward? A kiss perhaps?”

  “I didn’t need to be saved,” I told him. “I was taking care of it.”

  He laughed. “Now that’s the Penny I remember.” He gestured to the bartender. “Come on, let me buy you and drink and we can catch up. I know you want to know how I’ve been.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, painfully aware of his beautiful entourage waiting for him at the bar. “I really should go.”

  Jax put his hand on his chest as if I had wounded him. “You’re breaking my heart.”

  “I thought Hollywood removed that years ago,” I shot back.

  This time his laugh was enough to cause the whole bar to stop and stare at us. Again. It was a little unnerving.

  Then Jax turned his dazzling smile full-force at me, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

  “You win,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Say the word and I’ll walk away.”

  He leaned towards me, his beautiful blue eyes sparkling, and for a moment, I thought about not sa
ying anything. Because what was the harm? Two old friends catching up?

  Then, Jax reached towards me and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. Just like he had done to one of his groupies, his trademark move. It was enough to snap me out of whatever spell I had fallen under.

  He wasn’t the sweet kid I remembered, he was looking for his next conquest. And that definitely wouldn’t be me.

  “I’ll see you around, Jax,” I told him, stepping back.

  He blinked, shock dancing across his handsome features. Obviously he didn’t get rejected that often. But he recovered quickly, and gracefully.

  “See you around,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on my cheek.

  My skin tingled where his lips touched me, but still, I remained strong, picked up my purse, and headed towards the door. Where my ex, Greg, and his new girlfriend were standing.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I immediately turned on my heel and hurried back to Jax. Keeping my eye on Greg—who hadn’t spotted me yet—I grabbed Jax’s arm and spun him around so he was facing away from the door.

  “You’re back!” he said, clearly surprised and pleased. “I knew you couldn’t stay away. They never can.”

  Across the room, Greg’s eyes found mine. Immediately, he put his arm around his date’s barely clothed shoulders and began heading in our direction.

  “Just play along,” I begged Jax.

  He gave me a confused look just as Greg approached.

  “Penny!” Greg said, pulling his girlfriend even closer.

  I’d never met her before, but I’d seen more than my share of the half-naked booty shots she posted on her Instagram page. She was the girl that Greg wrote poetry about. She was the girl he had left me for. And she was the girl sharing their relationship to all of her thousands of followers with hashtags like #poetryboo and #blessed2bnlove.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” Greg said. “Doesn’t really seem like your kind of scene.”

  “It’s not.” Jax turned around. “But it is mine.” He reached out a hand. “Hi, I’m—”

  “You’re Jax Hawthorne,” Instagram Babe said, her voice all breathy and excited. Her kohl-lined eyes were round.

  “Just call me Jax. Everyone does,” he said, slinging his arm over my shoulder, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by both the Instagram Babe and Greg.

  Greg stared. “Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “You two know each other?”

  I wanted to roll my eyes, but instead I forced a smile onto my face.

  “Know each other?” Jax asked with a big, fake laugh. “Oh, we’re old friends.”

  “Who just reconnected,” I said, putting a possessive hand on Jax’s chest, praying that he was as good at improvising as he was at acting.

  He was.

  Covering my hand with his, he pulled me closer.

  “Reconnected is putting it a little mildly, don’t you think, darling?” he asked. “I saw her at a party a few weeks ago, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.” He paused for effect. “Romantically inseparable. If you know what I’m saying.”

  “That’s so sweet,” Insta-babe said, tossing her gorgeous black hair over one shoulder. “I’m Topaz, by the way.”

  “Charmed,” Jax said, his accent over the top, but Topaz giggled.

  “And this is Greg,” I offered the introductions. “My ex.”

  Jax’s eyes widened just slightly. “Ah, so I have you to thank,” he said, recovering smoothly.

  “I’m sorry?” Greg asked.

  “If you and my sweet Penny hadn’t broken up, I never would have gotten the chance to reconnect with her. Romantically.”

  He was being purposefully ridiculous, I could tell, but it was also driving Greg nuts, so I didn’t say anything.

  “We should go,” Greg finally said, giving Topaz’s arm a tug.

  It was clear that she didn’t want to leave the side of a movie star, and it took a few more pulls from Greg to get her to stop staring at Jax. Not that I could blame her. He really was just as handsome—if not more—than he was in the movies.

  “Nice meeting you,” Jax said, pulling me close. “Ta-ta.”

  I waited until Greg and Topaz had disappeared into the crowd before pulling away from him.

  “Ta-ta?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

  Jax shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

  I knew I was being a jerk. He’d just saved my ass there. “Thank you,” I said. “Truly.”

  “First time seeing him since the breakup?” Jax asked, surprising me with his insightfulness.

  I nodded. “And first time meeting the girl he dumped me to be with.”

  Jax winced and glanced in the direction that Greg and Topaz had disappeared into.

  “Well, she seems nice,” he said. “But she’s no Penny Pollack.”

  “You’re full of shit,” I told him. “But thanks for the lie anyways.”

  I turned to go, but he grabbed my arm.

  “It wasn’t a lie,” he told me. “She doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

  It could have been a scene from a movie the way he was staring at me, his eyes focused on me and only me. Then I realized that it was a scene from a movie. That rom com from a couple of years ago that had set hearts fluttering with all his sweaty, shirtless scenes. He’d said that exact line to the female lead—and she’d swooned right into his arms.

  Man, this guy had game.

  “I should go,” I said.

  “Come on, Penny.” Jax’s face went from intense to sincere. “You can’t spare an hour or so to catch up? I really have missed you.”

  I couldn’t help it, my heart melted a little bit.

  Suddenly, though, we were surrounded by flashing lights.

  “Shit.” Jax moved in closer to me, standing between me and what I saw was a row of photographers who had burst into the bar to take pictures of him.

  “Come on, Jax!” they shouted at him. “Give us a smile.”

  “Who’s the girl?” another one asked.

  “Give us a name, sweetie?” someone yelled at me.

  “What is going on?” I asked, as Jax began to steer me towards the door.

  “Paparazzi,” he said. “Guess your ex’s new girlfriend must have put something on social media and they decided to swarm us.” He managed to get us out of the bar, hailing down a cab quickly. “Come on,” he said, helping me in. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He took me to a dive bar in Chinatown. In fact, it was the divey-est bar I’d ever been in. No one gave us a second glance when we walked in, and it was a pretty good guess that half of the occupants didn’t own smart phones or give a damn about social media or movie stars. Still, Jax found us a corner table where the floor wasn’t quite as sticky and flagged down a waitress who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.

  “I’ll take a whiskey on rocks,” Jax said. “Penny?”

  “Vodka martini,” I told her.

  “Shaken, not stirred,” Jax added with a grin.

  “Stirred,” I corrected, even though I knew he was making a James Bond joke. Even as a kid, he had been obsessed with 007. I was pretty sure it was a requirement of British teenagers to be obsessed with Bond, James Bond.

  The waitress didn’t find our exchange amusing, and left without a word. Now the two of us were alone in the corner of a dive bar.

  “So . . .” I started, feeling incredibly awkward. It had been one thing to pretend to be dating Jax to mess with Greg, but now that we were alone, I had a hard time thinking of things to say to him. What could we possibly have in common anymore? We had been kids when we knew each other, and even though we’d shared a lot that winter—including making that dumb promise of ours—that had been years ago. We were totally different people now.

  “It’s been a while,” Jax said. “Fifteen years, right?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m sorry I stopped writing,” he said. “I guess I wasn’t a very good pen pal.”

  After our winter together, Jax an
d his family had gone back to London. We had kept in touch for a while, writing each other letters, but then Jax had stopped responding to mine. I kept trying for a few months, but gave up after I didn’t hear from him for six months. Back then it had hurt. Had felt like a rejection. But now I realized that it was a miracle that a twelve-year-old boy had actually written back at all.

  “It’s OK,” I told him. “I’m surprised you kept it up for as long as you did.”

  Our waitress returned with our drinks. Jax held his up. “To reconnecting with old friends,” he said.

  I could drink to that.

  “So,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. “Tell me everything about your life.”

  I blinked at him. Surely he wasn’t actually interested in what I did. I thought that all movie stars just wanted to talk about themselves, so I was surprised that he actually seemed genuinely interested.

  “Well,” I said slowly, watching his face for signs of boredom. “I work in risk analysis and financial projection. At a small tech start-up.”

  “Fascinating,” he said. “I know literally nothing about half of the terms you just used.”

  I laughed and explained about my job, including how a lot of my job was babysitting young men who thought that because they had money they knew what they were doing. Jax listened intently, asking insightful questions.

  “You always did have a thing for numbers,” he said, finishing off his whiskey and signaling for another.

  “I have to admit,” I said, sipping my own drink. “I’m surprised you recognized me in the first place.”

  This time he was the one blinking at me. “Really?” he asked. “How could I ever forget the girl I proposed marriage to at the tender young age of twelve?”

  “You remember?” I asked with a laugh.

  “How many women do you think I propose to?” he asked with a pretend glare.

  “Honestly?” I asked. “I would assume a movie star has to propose to someone on a monthly basis.”

  He laughed. “I guess that makes sense.” He leaned back, arms crossed. “And if that’s true, then I am not doing a very good job of it, because you remain the only girl I’ve ever suggested marriage to.”

  “We were kids,” I reminded him.