A Kiss For The Cameras

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A Kiss For The Cameras Page 9

by Olivia Jaymes

Nate hadn’t meant for his fans to hang around that long but it always seemed to get awkward at the end when they needed to go back to their life and he had to get back to his. Most of them were fine once they had their selfies but a few – like these young women – found multiple reasons to stay. Until it crossed the line into rude territory.

  They’d monopolized him so thoroughly he’d completely ignored his charming and beautiful dinner companion and that was something he’d have to apologize for. He doubted she was used to anything like this and he hoped she wasn’t too upset.

  The girls finally drifted away rather reluctantly, leaving him alone with Paige. Her cheeks were quite red and his gut tightened with fear. Obviously she was livid with anger at his behavior and he needed to smooth this over right away. Things had been going so well and he didn’t want to ruin the new friendship they were forging. She’d become important to him in a short period of time.

  “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t mean for that to go on so long and I apologize profusely. Please forgive me.”

  She blinked a few times and then nodded. “Okay.”

  It couldn’t be that easy.

  “Okay?” he queried cautiously. “You’re not…angry?”

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  She’d been with him for several days now so she should know the answer but he replied anyway. “Not often but sometimes. Once again I apologize for how long that went on. It’s usually not like that. They get their pictures and that’s it.”

  Staring at the door where the young women had exited, Paige turned back to him. “They didn’t want to leave you. It looked like you were enjoying yourself though. It’s always nice to meet fans as long as they’re not creepy stalker types. Those girls looked pretty harmless.”

  Her words had come out slightly slurred and that’s when Nate realized there were three empty cider glasses in front of her. When had she ordered and drank the third? It must have been while he chatted with the females.

  That’s why her face was red. She wasn’t mad, she was drunk.

  Inwardly berating himself for not paying enough attention to what she was doing, he waved the waitress down and asked for the bill. He had to get her home before she passed out right here in the pub. From what he could tell, Paige wasn’t much of a drinker but even if she had been, three hard ciders would put anyone her size under the table.

  “Love,” he said, trying to get her wandering attention back to him. Her gaze was all over the place and she appeared to be having trouble focusing. “We need to get you home.”

  Smiling, she easily nodded in agreement. She was rather sweet when she was in her cups.

  “That sounds like a good idea. Let’s go home. I’m sort of tired.”

  “We’ve had a big day. Do you want me to carry your books, darling?”

  She’d already slid to the end of the bench and slapped a hand over her mouth, giggling like a schoolgirl. “I forgot all about them. I would have just left them here.”

  Way too much to drink. Now that she was giggling she couldn’t seem to stop. She really was adorable when she was like this but she probably wouldn’t appreciate him saying so. He reached over the table and snagged her heavy bag. There was no way she’d be able to carry them in her inebriated condition. Holding a bag in each arm, he stood and nodded toward the door.

  “Are you ready to go, love?”

  Giving him a big smile, she stood for only a moment before going straight down and hitting the floor, smack on her delightful bottom.

  Bloody hell.

  She was giggling again as he raced to set the bags down and see if she was alright. A cursory inspection showed nothing broken but her rear end was probably going to be sore tomorrow.

  How in the hell was he going to carry her and the books too? Fuck, this was all his fault. If he hadn’t been strutting for those fans, she wouldn’t have had a chance to drink that third cider. Son of a bitch. He needed her to get on her feet before they attracted any attention. All he needed today was for someone to take their picture and have it end up on Instagram or Snapchat with the words “Nate Mason with his drunk date.” Paige would be mortified.

  Still giggling so hard she could barely speak, she let him lift her to her feet and hold her there, leaning her up against the side of the booth.

  “Stay right there and don’t move,” he commanded through gritted teeth but she wasn’t really listening, instead chattering to herself about topics that didn’t seem to go together. At one point while he was rearranging the books in the bags she mentioned Flynn and a knight in shining armor. Always Flynn, never him.

  “Okay, we’re going to try this again, love,” he said, the two bags hoisted under his one arm so he could half carry her home. He was glad he was in excellent shape because otherwise he might have to abandon either her or the books. And he loved his books. But he liked Paige more.

  “Are we leaving?” she asked in a breathy voice. “We were having so much fun. Is there dancing here?”

  Jesus, she wanted to dance? Who was this Paige Mitchell? He might have to give her too much to drink more often. He was going to love reminding her of this tomorrow.

  “Sorry, love, no dancing. Now you can take my arm and lean on me while we walk home. Can you do that for me? Take my arm.”

  Her head whipped around, taking in the surroundings as if this was the first time she’d seen it. “Can we go somewhere to dance? I want to dance, Nate.”

  Think fast.

  “We can dance at home, darling. You and me. Now take my arm like a good girl.”

  She was looking at him as if she didn’t believe him. “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Now take my fucking arm before the other one falls off with all these fucking books.

  Instead of taking his arm, she pressed close and wrapped her arm around his waist, which actually was even better. It might slow him down slightly walking but he was sure she’d stay upright, which at the moment was a major concern. He couldn’t have her falling to the pavement on the way home.

  It took damn near forever to get back to his house.

  First, Paige had to wave and say hello to everyone they passed, luckily getting hellos and indulgent smiles back from the amused onlookers. As far as he could tell, no one took their picture. Second, she was rather unsteady on her feet and the tuneless song she insisted on singing didn’t help as she also seemed to want to dance to it as well. By the time they reached his gate, he was ready to leave her on a bench and come back for her when she sobered up.

  No more alcohol for Paige Mitchell. Ever.

  It was with immense relief that he dumped the books on the floor next to the door and then helped Paige to the sofa where she landed with glee, laughing and bouncing up and down. At that moment she didn’t look like a serious writer or the mother of a teenager. She looked like a sweet, happy child without a care in the world. She looked…beautiful…and innocent, and his heart ached as he took in the sheer delight in her expression. He’d had fun with her today. More fun than he’d had on any date in recent memory. Maybe longer.

  No, no, no. This is not the moment for a casual shag. It might be fun while I’m doing it but tomorrow it would be a whole other story. She wasn’t the type to have sex and have it not mean anything. Not like me.

  “Thank you, Nate,” she said shyly, looking up at him from under her lashes. Dear God, was she flirting with him? How much was he supposed to endure today?

  “You’re welcome. Maybe we should get you some black coffee.”

  Anything to get her to sober up faster but she was already shaking her head.

  “I don’t drink it black. But I am tired. I think I need to lie down.”

  “Excellent idea. You should lie down.”

  Holding out her arms to him, her lower lip pushed out, she gave him a hopeful look.

  “Will you help me? I’m not very steady on my feet. I may have had a bit too much to drink.”

  A bit?

  “You had
three hard ciders, love. You should have stopped at one.”

  Throwing her arms apart, she grinned. “Too late.”

  “Yes, it is. Now let’s get you upstairs.”

  He helped her to a standing position and she walked fairly well to the stairs but that’s when things went awry. She couldn’t seem to navigate the up and down motion that she needed to climb and between the stumbling and the giggling, he lost his patience. Swinging her up in his arms bridal style, he carried her the rest of the way, setting her gently on the bed in the guest room.

  “Do you need help taking your shoes off?”

  Falling backward onto the mattress, she shook her head. “I’m good. I’m just going to rest my eyes for a little while.”

  She was going to pass out and he needed to check her regularly to make sure she didn’t choke on her own vomit. Cider paired with fish and chips might make another appearance this evening.

  “You do that. I’ll come back in a few minutes and check on you. I’ll also put a water bottle next to the bed. You’ll be thirsty when you wake up.”

  He was almost to the door when he heard her struggle to sit up. “Nate? Can you come back for a minute?”

  No good deed goes unpunished.

  Turning back, he sat on the edge of the bed next to her, but far enough away that they weren’t touching. “Is there something you need? Do you feel sick?”

  Reaching up, she placed her soft hands on either side of his face and pressed a chaste kiss to his chin, which was as far as she could reach as tiny and drunk as she was. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  His throat tightened and his heart sped up at her nearness. Breathing in, his lungs filled with her scent – vanilla, rain, and something unique to Paige that made his head spin slightly as if he also had had too much to drink. His jeans were suddenly far too tight for comfort and if he wanted to keep his sanity he needed to get out of this room as soon as humanly possible.

  “You’re welcome.” His voice sounded like a shovel scraped over gravel and he had to clear his throat to continue. “You should get some rest now.”

  He helped her arrange herself on the bed, her head on the pillow and a light blanket thrown over her legs. Her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing evened out as he stood in the doorway watching her for a long moment before padding downstairs. A cup of tea would set things to rights. It was only a momentary attraction, nothing to be concerned about. He was a man and she was a woman. An attractive one. This wasn’t unusual. But anything more than what they’d agreed to would be a supremely bad idea. Paige wasn’t the friends with benefits kind of woman. She’d want a relationship and he knew how that turned out.

  Out of habit his hands made tea while his mind was a million miles away thinking over the time they’d spent together so far. He’d had fun and frankly he hadn’t expected to. Not that much fun anyway. He’d thought they’d be friendly but he hadn’t expected the connection that was building between them. He liked her, he was attracted to her, and every day that he spent with her only made him want to do it again and again.

  After the encounter with fans this afternoon, he was reminded of how he was wanted for one thing. Kai. They wanted to believe he was somehow like that character. They wanted Kai to date them, romance them, fuck them.

  Paige didn’t expect any of that. She simply accepted him as he was. Sometimes she laughed at him and it was probably deserved. She didn’t have much use for the movie star lifestyle. She’d asked him tonight at dinner what women had done to show him their love and he hadn’t answered. Hadn’t known how to. He’d been in love a few times back before he’d become famous and those girls had done the usual things. Sex being the big one. Affection. Gifts. But if he really thought about it…

  He couldn’t think of one woman who had watched a particular movie just because he wanted to and hadn’t made a big deal about it. Not one.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Groaning in pain, Paige buried her face in the pillow, trying to keep out the light that filtered through the curtains. Her head pounded, her mouth was as dry as cottonwool, and her stomach was doing Cirque du Soleil in her abdomen.

  Where was sweet death when she needed it?

  A quick inventory told her she still had all her limbs, although she wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d woken up without a kidney considering there was a huge swath of last night she couldn’t remember. Poor Nate. Paige had a tendency to get clingy when she was on the wrong side of alcohol. She’d been told that she liked to give hugs, kisses, and tell everyone how much she loved them. Some people were mean drunks; Paige was a walking Hallmark card.

  Slowly – very slowly – she climbed out of bed, only noticing then that she was still dressed in the clothes she’d been wearing last night, including her shoes. Stripping down to her birthday suit, she crawled into the shower and let the steaming hot water run over her aching body.

  My butt hurts. What the hell?

  How she’d managed to bruise her tailbone was a mystery, one she wasn’t altogether sure she wanted to solve. Had she pissed Nate off so much he’d had to spank her to get her to behave? Had she backed into a wall? Repeatedly and with force? Luckily nothing else seemed to be damaged.

  Except her dignity, of course. That definitely had some door dings in it.

  Once she’d scrubbed her hair, skin, and teeth, she wrapped herself in a robe and tiptoed downstairs, her hair still wet but at least combed into submission.

  “There you are. I heard the shower so I made a fresh pot of coffee.”

  Pressing her fingers to her temple, she didn’t even bother to look at him, heading straight for the coffee pot. He smelled freshly showered and probably looked like a damn…well…movie star. Shit, it so wasn’t fair.

  No eye contact for awhile.

  “Thank you.” She poured herself a brimming mug and then added cream and sugar. Even now she couldn’t drink it black. “Um, listen, I’m really sorry about last night. I don’t usually drink so much.”

  She heard coughing behind her but he wasn’t sick, the Brit bastard. He was trying to cover up his laughing.

  “Just which part are you sorry about, love? Was it when I practically had to carry you home along with all the books we bought? When you wanted to go dancing? Or could it have been when you kissed me? Is that what you’re sorry about?”

  Fuck and hell. In her inebriated state, had she given in to the physical attraction she’d been feeling? Nothing good could come from him knowing she thought he was handsome or sexy. Whirling around, she was forced to look Nate in the eyes. Those blue fucking eyes with the crinkles at the corner. He appeared to be amused by the entire situation and if she didn’t think she might throw up she’d kick him in the balls.

  “I kissed you?” she squeaked, clearing her throat and trying again. “I mean, I kissed you? That doesn’t sound like me.”

  He stood and refilled his own coffee cup before answering, leaning his hip against the counter. When he was this close it reminded her of just how much taller he was. He dwarfed her by a foot, making her feel tiny and delicate. Two things she hadn’t felt in a long time. “It doesn’t, does it? You’re always so prickly with me but I must say when you’re drunk you’re such a sweet thing. So nice and friendly. You kissed me…just here.”

  He pointed to the dimple in his chin and she exhaled slowly in relief. She hadn’t laid one on his lips and propositioned him. Thank you, baby Jesus. She never would have lived that one down. A sloppy kiss on the chin wasn’t exactly fantastic but it was much better than some of the alternatives.

  “I tend to get that way when I drink. I am sorry, and I’m sorry that you had to drag me back here like that. Truly, truly sorry.”

  He reached into a cabinet and brought down a bottle of painkillers. She almost kissed him again in gratitude. “You’ll probably want a couple of these. Take them with a full bottle of water. That’s an order.”

  She wasn’t sure he believed her. “I swear as God as my witness I don’t of
ten drink like that and I am so very sorry.”

  He was looking at her with what appeared to be sympathy. “One cider would have done it. What made you drink three?”

  Good question and one she’d thought about in the shower. “The first I drank because I was thirsty. The second I drank because the first was so good and warmed me up. The third I drank because the first and second were yummy and I was bored.”

  He bowed his head for a moment. “And for that I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

  She popped two of the ibuprofen and chased them with the scalding hot coffee, burning her esophagus and not giving a shit. “How is my stupidity your fault? Although if you want to take the blame I wouldn’t object.”

  “Those fans,” he reminded her. “If I hadn’t spent so much time with them, you wouldn’t have drunk the third cider.”

  Maybe, although this wasn’t the first dumb thing she’d done in her life. Sadly, it wouldn’t be the last. “We don’t know that for sure. I really liked it and I might have convinced you and myself that I needed another one. As for those girls, I thought it was cute the way they were gushing about you and when that blonde got up the courage to kiss you. I wished I had had the guts to do that to my crush when I was her age.”

  He popped two pieces of bread into the toaster. “Who was your crush?”

  “George Clooney, but then he was everybody’s crush so I guess I’m not all that original.”

  Picking up her coffee cup, he placed it on the table and motioned for her to sit.

  “Still, I am sorry about that. Most fans get their selfie and go but some do sort of outstay their welcome.”

  Wrapping her hands around the warm mug, she took in his worried expression. He thought she’d been so upset she’d drank herself stupid. “Seriously, I wasn’t bothered. You seemed to really get off on it but I figured it would get old after awhile. I drank too much because I’m an idiot, not because I was upset with you. You’re a fucking movie star. This goes with the territory. Now if you’d gone off and just left me there, well, that would piss me off.”

 

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