Dead silence ensues. He appears stunned at my revelation. I watch apprehensively as he processes my confession, the shock slowly fading and turning into something else. Our eyes lock, and the heat between us becomes a raging inferno. I know one of us is about to do something extremely dumb right now.
Luke’s expression abruptly changes as his gaze shifts away from mine, and lands on something behind me. I immediately whirl around.
I let out a loud and wretched gasp at the sight of the gray-haired older gentleman standing there, holding the door open from the other side. He appears mortified, his face red with embarrassment.
“Pastor Dan,” I wheeze out in an unnaturally high voice. “H-hey.”
Pastor Dan snaps out of his horrified daze. “Excuse me,” he mumbles, quickly backing away. The door swings close behind him.
I shouldn’t have said what I did, not in the house of the Lord. I wonder if Pastor Dan remembers who I am, and that I’ve always been a foul-mouthed little creature. I hope he doesn’t mention this to my aunt and uncle.
My musing is cut short by the sound of Luke’s deep chuckles. I whirl on him. “You think this is funny?!” I shout incredulously.
He leans against the counter, shaking his head and grinning. “Yeah, it’s fucking hilarious,” he replies wryly. “I’ve been waiting two years for something to happen between us—and when it does, we’re both asleep!”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You waited two years to make a move on me, Mr. Rich and Famous? Yeah, right.” I snort derisively.
Luke’s face darkens in anger. “No, I waited over two years for you to stop pining over some asshole that banged your cousin on your bed.”
I gasp again. “I am not pining over Bran!”
He crosses his arms over his chest, and regards me skeptically. “Are you sure about that? Because every time he says jump, you say how high.”
Now I’m really pissed. No one accuses me of being froggy. I point my finger in his face. “I don’t jump for anyone! Not for Bran, and not for you! Not anymore. I fucking quit!”
“You can’t quit!” Luke retorts, his eyes shooting green fire at me.
“Watch me!”
He lets out a growl of pure frustration as he turns away, running both hands through his blonde hair. When he finally turns back to me, his face is more composed. “I’m sorry, Andi. This isn’t going the way I planned,” he admits.
I can tell by his tone of voice that he’s trying to calm down and be reasonable. But I don’t want to be reasonable, damn it. I want to fight!
I put my hands on hips, and smirk at him. “Didn’t go as planned? Oh, excuse me, was I supposed to just lie down and open my legs for you like all the other girls?”
For a few seconds, Luke just stares at me like I’ve grown another head. “You think that this is all about me wanting to get in your pants?” he says incredulously.
“What better time to try and hit it than when I’m helping to plan the wedding of my cousin to my ex-boyfriend?” I say bitterly.
“I came down here for you! I wanted to be there for you while you’re going through a rough time.”
“Right, so you can seduce me when I’m nice and vulnerable.” I flash him my best challenging smile, silently daring him to contradict me.
Luke briefly shuts his eyes and I imagine he’s mentally counting to ten. When he’s done, he opens them. I can tell he’s on the verge of losing it. All he needs is a little push.
“I can see where you might have got that impression,” he says slowly. “I’ve been acting like a jackass since I got here—and I know you’re well acquainted with my track record.” His laugh is bitter. “But I’m not—I just…I suck at this. Look, I wasn’t sure if I should try to start something between us. After a long time of going back and forth, I decided I couldn’t risk fucking it all up and losing you. But then that time in Paris...”
Luke grabs my hand and tugs me forward so that our bodies are just a thought away from touching. Our breaths come rapidly, chests rising and falling almost in sync. If we crossed that distance, would we absorb each other? My heartbeat. His heartbeat. His pain. My pain. My aching emptiness. His huge hard—
“I finally got you in my arms, and in my bed,” he continues, interrupting my dirty thoughts, “and I realized that I never wanted to let you go.”
If this was a movie, and I was one of Luke’s leading ladies, I would throw myself into his arms and kiss the life out of him. But I’m me, and, honestly, I’m usually the villain. I don’t want to be anyone’s heroine. I don’t want him to look at me like that. I don’t want him to say those things to me. I am so confused. And freaked out. Where the hell is all this coming from?
“Blah, blah, blah!” I blurt out, pushing him away from me. “You never want to let me go? Are you kidding? Why don’t you just say you wanna bang?”
Luke turns to me sharply, disbelief written all over his gorgeous features. “You still think this is just about sex?!”
I throw my hands up in the air dramatically. “It’s always just about sex with you, Luke! Part of my job description is to sweep up the trail of broken hearts you leave in your wake. You’ve been humping and dumping girls since I met you. Why the hell would I be any different?!”
“Because I—”
Don’t you hate it when someone is on the verge of blurting out a confession—but then they come to their senses? Luke clamps his mouth shut, jaw clenching so hard a muscle in his cheek jumps. He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and walks a few steps away from me, his posture rigid.
“You know what? Forget I said anything,” he finally mutters. “You’re too fucking stubborn and too fucking scared to hear what you know is the truth.”
“The truth!” I scoff. “Please, you’re an actor. You lie for a living! You sound like you’re reciting a sappy speech from one of your scripts. Say something ugly so I know you mean it.”
Luke stalks toward me, murder in his eyes. I pick up the bag of flour and hold it in front of me like a shield. Sometimes you have to take comfort where you can find it.
“What the hell do you want me to say, Andi? That I have to think about my taxes just so I don’t get hard whenever I’m near you?” He glares down at me, intimidating me with his size and his anger. “That I bury myself in other girls because I'm trying to forget about the one I can't have? That I think about you when I’m fucking?"
"You…really?" I’m disgusted. But also kind of flattered. And a little turned on, if I’m honest. That can’t be right.
“What, you wanted to hear the ugly truth right?” Luke is saying. He backs me up against the refrigerator, nothing but the bag of flour between us. “You ready for another one? I know you want me too—only you don’t have the balls to admit it. Tell me I’m wrong,” he dares me.
“You’re wrong,” I declare. “You think just ‘cause I groped you in my sleep that I have the hots for you, Mr. Big Shot? In my dream, you were my high school English teacher!”
“Oh, really?” Luke smirks. He captures my gaze with his and doesn’t let me look away. “I may have been half asleep, but I remember you moaning my name. I remember feeling you come around my fingers. You were soaking wet, Andi. So tell me again how you don’t have the hots for me.”
I flush immediately, and it’s like someone pulled a warm stocking over my entire body. “Fuck you, Luke.” I mean to say this menacingly, but my voice comes out all weak and shaky. It sounds like I’m about to burst into tears—which I’m not! I make sure to convey my fury through dagger-like eye contact.
“You will; count on it.” A hard smile touches his mouth as he rests both palms against the refrigerator above my head, and ever so slowly leans in like he’s doing a vertical push up.
I freeze as his mouth hovers over mine. The molten gold in his eyes mesmerizes me. I know what I must look like to him: lips parted, heavy-lidded, and with the stereotypical heaving bosom of a fair maiden caught in a wicked rogue's sex web. In other words: I look
like I want it bad. For the record, so does he.
If he kisses me right now, I won’t be strong enough to stop him. Again, I don’t mean that in a rape-y way. I mean willpower. I have none when it comes to him.
"I’m going to give you time to adjust to the idea of us," Luke says, his eyes focused on my mouth. “Then we’re done with the bullshit, Andi. I’m not letting you run away from me again.”
I clutch my flour baby closer to my chest, and try to swallow over a sudden massive lump in my throat. Electric thrills of excitement course through my veins. I wait for his gaze to meet mine again before I flash my patented fake smile.
“If I’m running away, it’s because I’m not interested, Golden Boy,” I say sweetly. “There is no ‘us.’ There never has been, and there never will be.”
Luke’s answering smile is as fake as mine, contrasting with the sharp gleam in his eyes. “You know me well enough to know that I get what I want.”
I roll my eyes, breaking the spell. “Your ego must be the biggest thing I’ve ever seen.”
His smirk only grows wider and more confident as he finally backs away. “That’s because you haven’t seen all of me yet.”
“Ugh! You’re such an arrogant asshole!”
I angrily slam my flour baby down on the counter—and I’m immediately enveloped in a cloud of white. I did not realize that sucker was open. I glare at Luke, but he’s not laughing at me like I would have been. I guess some people are just more mature than others. I laughed at him at the fire extinguisher incident. I think I also made a really dirty joke about the foam.
“Get yourself cleaned up, Tiger.” Luke tosses me a hand towel from a shelf. “I’ll see you later.”
He straight arms the door, giving it a few rapid fire punches as he goes through so it stutters open. I can’t help but wonder if he’s imagining the door is my face.
Well, thank god that went well.
Chapter 16
Luke is gone again. I guess he must’ve driven himself to the airport like a big boy. I don’t care that he didn’t say goodbye. As far as I’m concerned, this whole last week has not happened. I’m erasing it from my memory, and when he comes back I’m going to act like nothing’s changed between us. Like we didn’t say those things to each other, and he didn’t give me the most amazing orgasm of my life.
But I’m not thinking about that.
I don’t go on the internet because it’s inevitable that I’ll see something about Luke. I don’t want to watch any movies because even if he’s not in them, I’ll think about how much better Luke would have been in the role of the male lead actor. He may be an arrogant ass, but he sure is talented. And so hot. Oh, my god.
Ellen has a date to play Bingo with her new boyfriend. She doesn’t even invite me along despite my puppy dog eyes. I guess she remembers how I get when I play any kind of game with a prize. Same reason why I got kicked off the basketball, track, and debate teams throughout my formative years.
I’d just decided to head to the gym for a good long workout when the doorbell rings. I open the door to the world’s dopiest couple. Megan and Bran stand there holding hands, with matching smiles. They’ve brought along Megan’s copies of the Soul series. Bran says we’re going to have a movie marathon night with determination in his voice. Judging by the strained look on Megan’s face, she thinks it’s a shitty idea. She’s correct.
Well, who wouldn’t want to spend the night cuddled on the sofa with their cheating ex-boyfriend and cheating ex-cousin, watching movies starring the guy who you made give you a hand job in his sleep?
This girl right here. But what am I going to do, slam the door in their faces? Because that doesn’t work; Bran just keeps knocking and knocking.
So that’s why I’m in the kitchen right now, making popcorn. I get what Bran is trying to do, but it honestly baffles me how clueless he is. When we were kids, I thought it was one of his most endearing qualities; later when we going out, I sometimes wanted to kick him repeatedly for it.
Bran comes up next to me while I’m zoning out in front of the microwave. He didn’t bring his crutches so he’s just kind of hopping around like a lame skater boy with his floppy hair and clueless smile.
“You gonna add some mac and cheese powder?” he asks, poking through Ellen’s cupboards. “Meg was just saying how it’s been so long since we ate popcorn like that. Ever since she got pregnant, we’ve been eating it plain because all that greasy butter makes her sick.”
“That’s fascinating,” I say flatly, and go back to listening to the kernels pop.
“Hey, remember that time at the movies when that drunk guy sitting next to you threw up in your popcorn bucket?”
That’s when I whirl around him. “Look,” I snarl. “I’m not really in the mood to stroll down memory lane with you. Ever.”
“I’m sorry, Andi. I was just trying to help.” Bran gazes at me with remorseful blue eyes. “What can I do to fix this?”
“Why don’t you build yourself a time machine, go back to when you had the thought that the three of us hanging out tonight was a good idea—and kick yourself? Right up in the ass.”
The microwave dings, so I take out the bag of popcorn. I dump its steaming contents into a big bowl, and then shove the bowl into Bran’s stomach. He grabs it, wincing a little. I didn’t mean to shove it quite so hard. I guess I’ve become used to abusing Luke so much that I forgot not everyone has his abs of steel.
But I’m not going to think about Luke right now.
“Put whatever the hell you want on it,” I tell Bran. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
He actually tries to follow me until I glare at him to stay put. Sometimes I just don’t know about that guy.
My Soul for You is based on a best-selling series of books about a teenager named Sam Langelier who discovers he’s growing a demon inside of him that is slowly eating away at his soul. He has to decide if he wants to succumb to the beast, and join his fellow demon incubators in launching the apocalypse—or if he wants to try to save what’s left of his soul, and join the girl he loves in the fight against evil. It’s more blood and sex than you’d usually find in something marketed for teens, but maybe that’s why it’s so hugely popular. Teens like blood and sex. Or is that just me? Also, the cast is beautiful and talented, and the actions scenes are heart pounding.
Before I met Luke, I could watch his movies over and over—and not just because Megan always wanted to. But now that I know him, and having been on a few movie sets and witnessed the intricate workings behind every scene—I don’t know. I tend to focus on the technical aspects of the movie, and think about all the people working their asses off to make that magic happen. I just can’t get as into it as I used to.
There’s an intense sex scene going on right now between Luke’s and Kat’s characters. I can’t watch it—but I can’t stop watching it. How much of himself does he put into his roles? Sam Langelier is surprisingly tender and hesitant despite his character’s brusque and dangerous nature. Luke is…more aggressive. The gold in his eyes turns molten and shimmery when he’s turned on. I’m pretty sure he’s turned on in this scene, despite the amount of cameras and crew that I know are lurking on the set at the time. Probably because Kat is so beautiful, with her pale blonde hair and big luminous blue eyes. I remember how Bran used to comment that Megan could be Kat’s sister. I thought he said it to make her happy because she’s so obsessed with Sam and Alexa. Now I wonder if that wasn’t his stealthy way of telling her she’s beautiful. Dick.
I don’t want to watch Luke and Kat get it on, but if I turn away from the screen, I see Bran and Megan on the couch, all cuddly and shit. Megan’s head is resting on his shoulder as he absently strokes her special blonde hair. Their couple-ness is effortless. I can’t help but think about how clumsy Bran and I looked when we were together. We didn’t really fit, and someone (me) was always accidentally smacking a hand away, or kissing an open eye (by mistake). We would always laugh it off, but I know it bothere
d him. So I can’t tell you how happy I am that he found his missing puzzle piece. Fucker.
Forget it. Who needs Bran? Who needs Luke? I have a sock monkey named Deadeye Jones who understands me better than either of those guys. I wish I had brought him with me. He may not talk much, but he can cuddle like you wouldn’t believe.
It’s almost one in the morning, and Bran is asleep. I forgot how adorable he looks when he’s unconscious. Almost pretty, with those long sweeping eyelashes and his hair falling over his forehead. I can’t believe he’s going to be a father. I didn’t really think to wonder how he feels about the pregnancy. No doubt he’s thrilled. He always used to…
Never mind. Shut up, memories.
I abruptly get up and go into the kitchen. I decide to make more popcorn since the lovepigs out there inhaled the two previous bags without sharing. We’ve never been food sharers, none of us.
Again, I stand right in front of the microwave and listen to the kernels pop their little hearts out, and again I am interrupted. This time it’s Megan.
“Hey,” she says, clumsily taking a seat at the kitchen table.
“Hey.”
“It’s so surreal watching the Soul movies now that I’ve actually met Lucas—and, like, had actual conversations with him.” Megan laughs incredulously, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. “He’s exactly how he seems to be in all his interviews. Like, he’s just so down-to-earth and funny. I still can’t believe you guys are together! It’s like a fairytale, or something, huh?”
I shrug half-heartedly. “Or something.”
Megan hesitates. She’s dying to bombard me with questions, but she can’t ‘cause we’re estranged. Ha. Her gaze slides from mine and lands on Bran—rather the top of his slumped head since that’s the only part visible over the couch. “I’m sorry about tonight,” she says softly. “I told Bran it was a bad idea, but he insisted. He’s just trying to help. He thinks that if we…if we hung out more and do the stuff we used to do that we can go back to being friends again. But that’s not going to happen, is it?”
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