Celeb Crush (40 page)

"But we could be," she says softly. 

Um.  What?

"The hell you say!"  Shocked, I glare at Kat in all her blonde bombshell glory.  "That’s disgusting!  Why would you even?"

She makes an impatient clucking sound with her tongue.  “Don't be so provincial, Andi.  A lot of my friends are into it, and it works for them.  And you’re downright naïve if you think the three of us together has never crossed Lucas’ mind.”

Her words elicit a painful sensation in my chest because what if she’s right?  Familiar insecurities rear their ugly head.  Luke
is
into threesomes—just ask the Bikini Twins.

Not for the first time, I find myself overwhelmed with doubts about my relationship with Luke.  Why are we even together?  How could we possibly make it work between us?  All we ever do is fight and have sex.  I mean, that’s enough for me—but what about Luke?  He thinks he’s in love with me…but why?  Does it have something to do with his mommy issues?

Eventually, I realize that Kat is waiting for me to say something.  I hate her.  I hate the thought that I could be Luke’s stepping stone on to a perfect relationship with
her
.

“I don’t share,” I say finally, struggling to keep the emotional turmoil out of my voice.  “I thought you didn’t, either.”

She looks away, smoothing a piece of bright hair behind one ear.  “I’m willing to make some concessions,” she says.  “You have to be realistic, you know.  I’ve talked to some friends—women who have been in the business for a while—and they all say the same thing:  expecting your actor boyfriend to be faithful to you is about as ridiculous as telling him ‘no candy,’ then sending him off to work in a candy store.”

I shake my head.  “Luke is different,” I say stubbornly.

Kat gives me a direct look.  “You’re right, he is.  Lucas is special.  But do you really think someone like you is enough for him?”

This is where I reach across the table and calmly smash her face into her plate full of sashimi.

In my head, I do this.  In reality, she’s saved by the bell.  I accept the call without looking to see who it's from.  “What?!” I snap while glaring at Kat.

"Hey, Andi," Nate greets me.  "Not to alarm you or anything, but—how soon can you get your ass down to Romey’s garage?  We have problems."

I instantly lose my scowl as I focus on the quiet alarm in his voice.  "What's going on?  Why are you at the garage?  I thought you were guys were running the bar circuit tonight."

“That was the plan.  Then your boy, Luke agreed to race a dude named Manslaughter.  That’s his last name, by the way.  I think his first name is Vehicular.”

“Shit,” I say sharply, ignoring Kat’s concerned looks.  “Is he drunk?  Luke, I mean.”

“Not exactly…but he’s had a few.” 

Nate’s voice gets quieter as the noises in the background change, like’s he moving around.  I can hear the deafening sounds of a motor revving and people cheering before it fades away as Nate passes by.

“Romey’s heard of this dude and he’s bad news, kid,” Nate speaks rapidly, his voice coming in much clearer.  “He’s got a rep for driving dirty—like running his opponents into buildings and shit.  That’s what he got busted for.  The guy he was racing—there wasn’t enough left of him to bury.  Manslaughter just got out and he’s about busting a nut wanting to re-establish himself.  And what better way to do that than by challenging Lucas Fucking Greyson?”

“Put him on the phone, Nate,” I demand furiously.  “I want to talk to him.”

“Uh-uh, that’s not going to cut it.  He’s way past that point.  You have to get down here, Andi.  This isn’t going to end well.  You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah.”  I’m already gathering my stuff together.  “I’m coming.”

After hanging up with Nate, I mumble a goodbye to Kat, and with no explanation, I practically run out of the restaurant. 

“Is Lucas okay?”

Kat keeps pace beside me as I dart through the paparazzi loitering at the entrance.  They immediately point their cameras at us and start clicking away while shouting our names.  I barely notice, fueled by a very real sense of urgency.

I suddenly remember that Kat drove us here.  She grabs my arm, and with surprising strength hauls me back into the restaurant.  She leads me to a side door that exits directly into the parking lot.  We quickly get in to her Mercedes SUV, and I try to keep the panic out of my voice as I tell her how to get to Romeo’s garage.

I have such a bad feeling, like a prescience sense of doom.  I briefly explain the situation to Kat, and her face pales.  She knows Luke well enough to be worried—which makes me even more worried.  Our fears feed off of each other, and we start freaking out.

“What the hell is he thinking?” she says in a clipped tone.  “We’re supposed to be in Wilmington in a couple of days!  If he gets hurt…”

I couldn’t care less about their stupid movie.  My throat is dry, and I sit at the edge of my seat like it will make us go faster.  I don’t have to tell Kat to hurry—she’s already going fifteen over the speed limit.  I pray we don’t get pulled over.  I pray we make it in time, and that I can talk some sense into Luke.  Barring that, I pray for the strength and stealth to catch him off guard and knock him unconscious until the madness passes.  Maybe Kat will help me.

Romeo “Romey” Monterro’s garage is this huge dingy looking warehouse that no one would ever expect to house two and a half million dollars worth of high performance vehicles.  It would seem an extremely odd choice for Luke to store his precious car collection—but if you could see the huge inked up Romey, you would understand why no one would dare mess with his garage.

Luke, Nate, and a bunch of other guys are crowded around the front of a sleek and shiny cobalt blue car with its hood popped up.  A girl I don’t recognize is behind the wheel, revving the engine, and making it purr like a big jungle cat.  The air in here is poisoned with the smell of oil, exhaust fumes, and testosterone.

Luke’s face brightens when he sees me, Nate looks relieved—and the other guys are too busy gawking at Kat to notice me.  Luke strides over, and pulls me in for a toe-curling panty-melting kiss.  He tastes like cinnamon and hard liquor.

“Hey, what brings you guys here?” he asks, grinning because he has to hold me up afterwards.  I can tell from his slightly flushed complexion that, while he’s not quite there yet, he is well on his way to being shitfaced.  Or maybe he’s drunk on adrenaline, hopefully.

Before I can gather up the brain cells to answer him, he turns away to greet Kat.  He introduces her to the crew, and I guess her celebrity status and perfect body are enough to distract the boys away from their toy.  I can tell that she’s annoyed that they’re inadvertently keeping her away from Luke, though she tries to hide it behind a professional smile.  She keeps glancing back at us, barely noticing that the massive Romey has her arm, and isn’t giving it back.  I half hope that he’ll just pick her up and walk off into the sunset.  She’d be okay.  I’m pretty sure Luke wouldn’t hang out with a rapist.

I catch the significant look Nate flashes in my direction.  I nod subtly at him.  I grab Luke’s hand and tug on it.  “Baby, can I talk to you?” I ask him quietly.

I tow him slightly away from the others, over to another car covered by a black tarp.  He half sits on the hood, crossing his arms over his chest.  God, he looks so fucking sexy and masculine right now, with his muscled forearms streaked with grease.  Sweet vagina, I could just climb up on the hood of that car with him and—

Focus, Andi.

“What’s up, Tiger?” Luke prompts me, raising his eyebrows at me questioningly.

“I hear you’re racing a guy named Manslaughter.”  I get right to it, fixing him with my most disapproving look.  “What the
hell
, Luke?!  You’ve been drinking.  You never accept a challenge unless you’re stone cold sober.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he says with an easy shrug.  “I’ve run that road so many times I can do it in my sleep.  It’s a flat wide road and a straight shot.  Nothing out there but warehouses.”

“Yeah, and you’re a great driver, I know that.  But this guy, Manslaughter—”

“He’s just a punk ass loser trying to build a hard rep for himself,” Luke cuts in impatiently.  “Hey, what’s with you?  You know I got this, right?  This is hardly the most dangerous thing I’ve done, by far.”

“I know.”  I shake my head.  “But I have a bad feeling.  Just…don’t do it okay?  Call it off?  For me.”

I give him the big sad eyes, but to no avail.  He shakes his head.  “I promise—I can handle this.  It will be over in three minutes.  C’mere.” 

Luke cocks a finger at me, gesturing for me to come closer.  I do, and he wraps his arms around me, and kisses the top of my head.  “You’re worrying for nothing, Tiger.”

I sink into his embrace, letting his warm strength reassure me.  But that nagging feeling won’t go away.  I extricate myself from his arms and look up at him.

“Seriously, don’t do this,” I try again.  “You’re drunk, and you’re pissed about your mom.  You’re not in any condition to drive to the grocery store—let alone do Mach one against a dude who went to prison for killing the guy he challenged before you.  Seriously, why isn’t he banned from the races?”

I shouldn’t have mentioned his mom.  Irritation flashes in his eyes as he scowls down at me.  “I’m not drunk, and I’m not pissed about my mom.  I am starting to get a little pissed at you, though.  I’m not backing out, okay?  It’s already been set up, and if I pull out now I won’t be able to race a Go-Kart in this town.”

“Okay—but what if you had a really good excuse?  Like a broken leg?”

“I don’t have a broken leg.”

“Not yet,” I mutter ominously.

He thinks I’m joking, which bothers me.  Before I can say anything else, the girl who was gunning the engine comes up to us.   I don’t know her name because she got out of the car and left after Luke kissed me.  I notice right away how hot she is, with gorgeous magenta-dyed hair and porcelain skin.  She’s got multiple piercings in her eyebrows, nose, and pouty red lips.  The skintight girl punk shirt and jeans she's wearing showcase a figure made up of lush curves.  Just looking at her I can tell she's the type of chick that's one of the guys—but also a FILF (friend I’d like to fu—lfill).  I really want to know if she and Luke have ever hooked up, but I'm pretty sure I won't like the answer.

She sashays over to Luke and tosses him a key fob.  "She's good to go, Greyson,"

"Thanks, Jay."  He acknowledges her with a chin nod.  "Have you met my girl yet?  Jaymie, meet Andi.  Andi, Jaymie is the brains behind this operation.   She's the one responsible for keeping Romey in the black three years running."

Jaymie gives me an unsmiling look.  "Hey," she says, sounding completely disinterested.

I give her my brightest smile in return.  Now that I'm really looking at her, I decide that she’s older than I originally estimated.   Late twenties, maybe.   Also, I thought she was wearing a long sleeved shirt but now I see that she's inked on both arms down to her fingertips.  I'm not entirely certain, but I think the artwork is supposed to be veins wrapped in thorns winding down her arms.  It’s pretty cool. 

She notices my scrutiny, and fixes me with a small sneer.  "So, Andi," she says with heavy sarcasm.   "What do you do?"

It's like she knows I'm unemployed!

"I work on a cattle ranch,” I say.  “I manually masturbate bulls, collect their semen, and freeze it for breeding purposes.  There’s a website.”

"Really."  She has a good poker face; I can't tell if she believes me. "That's fucked up."

"Yeah, it can get messy," I say with a shrug.  "But shake my hand.  I have a really firm grip."

"No thanks."  She glances over at Luke who is staring really hard at the ground, trying not to smile.   "Looks like you've finally met your match, Greyson."

“Yeah, and then some,” he mutters, chuckling drily.

Jaymie gives him a sympathetic look before ambling off.  Still shaking his head, Luke turns to me with a grin.  “I thought we were going to work on our people skills, babe?”

I blink at him innocently.  “Stop introducing me to smug chicks with whom you’ve slept with, and maybe I’ll try.  You did sleep with her, yeah?”

The smile slowly fades from his face.  That’s what I thought.  “I’m just gonna go…over there,” he mumbles.

Luke heads off to talk to the guys, and I let him.  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have more important things to worry about right now.  I can already tell that he’s determined to do this no matter what I say, so I’ll have to think up another plan.  He’ll definitely be pissed at me if I hit him with a tire iron—plus, they resume shooting in a couple of days; physical injury is out of the question.

I’m still brainstorming when Nate drifts over to me, hands jammed into his jeans pockets.  “No luck, huh?”

“He’s being a dick,” I say sourly.  “Do you have any access to those date rape drugs?  I forget what you call them.  I can distract him while you slip one in his drink.”

Nate just gives me a look.  “You’d better be joking.”

I’m not.  “I have a really bad feeling about this, Nate.”

“Yeah.”  He looks over to Luke who is hunched over the gleaming neon-lit engine bay of his project car.  “Me, too, kid.”