Accidental Action Star (9 page)

Sax talked about the drive over, his car’s engine performance, and the speed he’d achieved, keeping up a rather one-sided conversation until his date returned with two drinks and no change. He introduced her as Gina.

Gina pecked him on the lips, and he dropped his arm over her shoulders and introduced us. She took out her camera. “Selfie.” She shot a picture of herself drinking her frappuccino. She sagged into Sax. “Rock Star and me Selfie.” Sax grinned for the camera. She clicked replay and showed us the photos. Max shifted on the seat beside me. I took another drink.

“Photo booth.” Gina snapped photos of each of us. I blinked against the flash and flinched back into the high vinyl cushion.

Sax drummed his fingers on the sparkling tabletop and then pointed at me. “Pink bikini, right?”

“My name’s Hannah.”

Sax smiled. “Hannah. Yeah, right.”

“Max was just telling me what he liked best about this place,” I lied. “What was it, Max? The ambiance? The view?”

Sax cracked up. “She’s busting your balls, man. This place is a hole.”

Gina jostled Sax’s arm and opened her mouth so she could try his drink. Sax handed her the cup. She peered over the rim at me. “What did Sax mean? Pink bikini?” The cup clicked back down to the table before I could answer. “How do you know him?” She looked at Sax. “Don’t lie.”

“Chill-axe,” Sax said. “Hannah’s cool. Max brought her to one of my parties.”

“We were both just there.” Max clarified that I hadn’t been his date at Sax’s impromptu yacht party.

My mood hardened. “Kind of a work thing for me.”

Sax raised his eyebrows at Max. “Yeah. You work together, don’t you?” He looked from me to Max and grinned like we were breaking a rule.

“Well, I know Max from Sax’s birthday bash.” Gina looked at Max. “You were there with a redhead.” Gina fluffed her brown hair to one side. “Then, you were at that runway show with that brunette.” She eyed me, and then gave Max her attention again. “Guess you’re into blondes this week.”

Gina didn’t even try for subtlety. I’d have been pissed if I’d never met a mean-girl before. But I had. Loads. I sipped my caramel drink without responding.

Sax rolled his head side to side and pointed at a corner speaker. Soft rock played through the room. “This music is sucking the rock star out of me. Excuse me, babe.” Gina angled back and he crawled over her to get out of the booth. He went over to the barista and held up his phone. He wanted her to hook his playlist to the coffee shop’s sound system.

The barista nodded. She latched onto his arm to lead him behind the counter.

Gina pushed her drink aside and scooted out of the booth. She went straight to Sax’s side. “You think you can chat up another girl, like you’re not on a date with me?”

Sax regarded her like she was half crazy, but in Gina’s defense, the barista had hold of Sax pretty tight.

“Well, screw that. And screw you.” She headed to the door.

Sax shook free of the barista and chased after her. “Babe. Gina. Wait up. It’s not like that.”

With their departure, my double date became solo again. I looked at Max. He was staring at his phone, and I knew my date would end soon. I sent Powder a text asking if she still wanted to meet for dinner.

She texted back.
Sure.

With nothing to lose, and not quite ready to end the date yet, I dug for one of Powder’s tips. At least, I’d go out swinging. I ignored Max and blew on my drink.

As the tip said would happen, Max’s gaze went straight to my mouth. He drank a sip of his hot coffee. I stuck my finger into the cream and sucked it off. Max put his coffee cup down. He tilted his head and watched me.

I sipped the iced drink. He stared, riveted. I poked my fingertip into the cream again. Max tracked my motions. I raised my finger to my mouth. Mid-air, I altered course and tapped his mouth. He parted his lips and drew my finger into his mouth. Wet. The softness of his tongue, the edge of his teeth, the pull of his mouth.

Oh. My. My body tightened. My eyes shut.

He touched my wrist lightly and drew my hand away. My eyelashes fluttered. The warmth of his mouth landed on mine and Max kissed me. His fingers cupped my face. My lips parted. The heat of his mouth and tongue shocked the interior of my ice-cooled mouth. Mine must’ve done the same to his because he pressed closer. My head pushed into the cushy vinyl of the high booth. His kiss lightened and then deepened; each change sent a delicious thrill through me. Max tasted amazing, like strength and excitement and nighttime.

He lowered his hands to my waist. Warm. Strong. He rubbed my skin with his thumbs. Sensation carried through the thin barrier of my sundress. He stroked once. Twice. Each touch thrilled me. So Max. He undid me in a few simple moves.

I wound my arms around his neck and shifted closer. Max lowered his hands to my thighs and eased me onto his lap. I braced against the edge of the table and Max rested his hands on the outside of my thighs, brushing back and forth. Up and down. His masculine fingers stroked my legs without hesitation. Sensations radiated down to my toes and pulsed through my body.

I dug my nails into his shoulders. “Max,” I gasped. He moved his lips to my neck. I drew in another breath.

Max leaned away. His heated golden gaze stared into my eyes. “Let’s go.”

“What?” My voice came out soft and confused. His kiss had messed with my brain. I touched the base of my neck.

“We’ll get take out.” His voice sounded low and husky. “We’ll go back to my place.” He eased me off his lap, took my hand and guided me from the booth. I stood up, shaky on my high heels.

His words replayed in my head like the repetitious lyrics on the song playing through the speakers. Go back to his place? He’d said four words to me on our date and he thought I’d go back to his place? I didn’t know anything about him and this date had sucked. Well, it had until just now. Now it boiled with pleasure. Now I wanted to push him back into the booth or against a wall. I wanted contact. I wanted him flat against me. Now.

But not before. Before, he’d ignored me and acted like he didn’t want to be here. He’d paid more attention to his phone than me. I found my spine and shook free of Max’s hand. “When I realized we were only going for coffee, I made plans for dinner.”

“Cancel them.” Max frowned. “We can get dinner.”

Was he kidding? He’d probably stick me with that bill too. “No thanks.”

Max blinked.

“You look so shocked. Your dates really sit there and watch you text?”

He shrugged one shoulder, and his eyes grew wary.

“I thought you were trying to put me off. Now I wonder if girls in Cali just put up with this because you’re a star.”

Silence.

A flush covered the top of his cheekbones.

They did. I deserved better than that. Even if Max, the Art Department, and
Scoop Out
didn’t know it. “Later.” I left him there, looking surprised, and walked fast. I didn’t even want him to walk me to my car, something I’d usually demand. Ignoring the pain in my feet from the heels, I sped up. I slid into the front seat of my car.

Max had stood there watching as I left. Tall.  Handsome. Probably pissed.

Stop it. I checked for Powder’s text, trying not to think about Max and cave in. Powder had typed in the address of a local restaurant.

I wrote,
see you there
and hit the navigation button on my smart phone. I arrived first and thought about Max and replayed his kiss while I waited.

Powder arrived ten minutes into my iced tea and third replay. I so needed a distraction. I took another sip to cool off and waved her over. “Thanks for meeting me. I’d have hated to go back to the dorm this early.”

“Yeah. It would be like a reverse walk of shame—equally humiliating but in a different way.” Powder dropped her zebra-striped clutch onto the empty chair and joined me.

“My date was half bad and half amazing.”

“Been there, had dates like that.” Powder arched a pierced, platinum eyebrow. “Which one was it? Coke head? Public sex?”

I shifted on the wooden seat and rolled my feet from heel to toe, an instinctual reaction to ease the foot pain and maybe an urge to run from her questions. “Spoiled movie star maybe? Closed-off-commitment-phobe? Ignore-you-and-think-you’ll-still-hook-up-with-him guy?”

“Ooh. I’ve definitely dated that.” Powder ordered a Mai Tai and took a menu from the waiter. “Burgers here are killer. Though I’m thinking about going vegan.”

“I’m having the black and blue burger.”

Powder shuddered. “I do not do blue cheese.” The waiter handed her the fruity orange-red drink and she thanked him. From the cough syrup smell, the drink was more rum than pineapple.

I waited for the waiter to leave before rubbing my temple against an oncoming headache. I should have eaten before my date as I’d been taught. No guy wanted to see you chowing down. That was unladylike and indelicate. I’d learned that lesson as had all the other girls in Texas. Unfortunately, now I knew the hard truth behind the advice—sometimes the guy just didn’t spring for dinner.

Max
had
offered to pick up takeout… Stop it. I stared hard at the menu and pointed to my selection for the waiter. He took our orders and left.

“You said you had a date like mine? How’d yours end up?”

Powder stirred her drink with the narrow straw before answering. “With a four AM walk of shame to the cab he called.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. He didn’t bother to drive me home. The loser.” She formed an L-shape with her hand.

I imitated her. “Loser.”

We laughed.

“Max was such a nice guy when Gert cut off all my hair. And he’s been so cool about the martial arts lessons.” Uncertainty warred within me. Maybe I’d misinterpreted something during our date. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well…and he then recovered enough to invite me to hook up. Maybe I’d misread everything. I reached for my phone.

Powder gave me a sideways glance. “You’re weakening. Tell me, honestly. Did he ever say anything to indicate that he wouldn’t want to go out with you?”

My face heated. I didn’t answer.

“What’d he say?”

“He said he doesn’t date any girl more than twice. And he doesn’t date nice girls or co-workers.” I bit my lip and left off the part about him not wanting to date crazy.

“There you go. He asked you out in a weak moment—then panicked when he was actually on the date.”

“Max doesn’t have weak moments or panic.”

“The right girl can make a guy weaken and panic.”

Halfway through the burgers and salads, we stopped talking about Max and Powder told me about her boyfriend.

By the time we ordered dessert, we’d moved on to family topics. I told her about Mom’s pressuring me about
Scoop Out
. “Last night, she emailed me brochures for universities with cooking programs. I didn’t reply.” My university selection was always going to be an art school in Texas or California. It was never going to be a cooking school.

“What’s wrong with being an art major?”

“It’s not practical.”

Powder winced. I knew she got it, from the shaved sides of her head to her torn tights. Everything about her said Powder would sympathize with my desire to reject practical.

“Mom and Dad flew home to Austin for the weekend and she really wanted me to go.” 

“And you didn’t go because of Max?”

Mom had billed it as a weekend getaway, but I knew it’d be a weekend of pressure. “I didn’t go because having one of them pressure me was enough.”

Powder made a humming noise and pushed her plate away. “Make me stop. I’m doing that half-a-plate diet.”

I obediently pushed her plate to the edge of the table. Thinking about the cat suit made me push mine over to join hers. “Should we cancel the dessert order?”

Powder looked at me like I was crazy. “No.” She waved her hand for me to continue. “Your mom’s got a restaurant here and in Austin?”

“Yeah.” I took a sip of tea. “It’s really good. Have you been?”

“Nope.” She eyed the plate being cleared. “Better than that burger?”

“Way better.”

“Then I’m in. I’ll tell my boyfriend to prepare to pay. He’s a little on the frugal side so he needs advance warning.”

“It’s worth it.” I gave her a code word that would secure her a reservation.

She clinked her glass into mine. “You rock.”

I drank more of the icy sweet tea and felt my headache ease. “What do I say to Max when I see him on set? Do I call him on his behavior?”

She shook her head, mouth tight. “No.”

“Ignore him?”

She lifted her eyebrows. “No.” The word came out adamant and firm.

“Apologize?”

She flinched back. “Never.”

“I’m at your mercy. How do I handle Max Stone?”

”He already asked you out once. So you’re getting to him. Keep it up. Treat him like nothing special happened.” She hailed the waiter and ordered another drink. “And wear red. Men love red.”

We hashed out my exact wardrobe over tiramisu and my tension left me as the plan formed. All I had to do was keep my cool. I could do that.

Monday, I dressed in a light blue T-shirt and navy sweatpants. I’d thought Powder would recommend something cute or fitted, but she’d said to stick to the usual and add a red sports bra. The flashes of red were supposed to intrigue him more than an obvious display. I grabbed my bag and waved at my roommate. “I’m headed off to train with Max Stone.”

Eva didn’t look up from her English text. “Uh huh. Have fun.”

“Okay.”

I got to the lot and walked straight to Warehouse 47 and then over to Max, who was already working out. “Bet you wondered if I’d show.”

Max started our warm up. “I knew you’d show. I wondered if you’d stick it out the whole time.”

A dig at my ditching him, I breathed out, refusing to let him get to me and copied his moves. “I don’t break that easy.” I opened my mouth and clicked my teeth at him, in a mocking reflection of a bite.

He raised his dark eyebrows and paused a moment as if fighting a grin. He flowed into the next pose. “I should have remembered what I told you on the yacht. I’m not Sax. I don’t date crazies.”