He cringed, he closed his eyes, he inhaled like he was running a half marathon, and when the car went off the bridge he said so many curse words that I was blushing from head to toe.
The movie ended.
The credits rolled.
Jaymeson stared at the TV for a few seconds before turning toward me. “That was some scary shit.”
“Really?” I tilted my head. “I wouldn’t know. I was having way too much fun watching Mr. Crazy.”
He grinned. “Great, my nickname’s Mr. Crazy now?”
I gave him a solemn nod.
He reached for some more popcorn and leaned back into the couch. “I can’t help it. I always talk when I watch movies. It’s a curse.”
“I love it,” I said without thinking.
The look he gave me made me blush, his eyes dilated slightly as a smile spread across his gorgeous face. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my chin against them. “I can tell you get really into movies. It’s cool that you can make movies and still watch them like you don’t know they’re fake.”
He chuckled. “I may know they’re fake, but I still hate scary movies. I was asked to do one last year and backed out at the last minute.”
“Pansy.”
“Shut it.” He threw a pillow at me. I ducked. “It was a movie about being possessed. Not really my cup of tea, love.”
I nodded. “What about now? What’s your next project?”
He hesitated then looked away. “I’m up for a part in that new book series getting made into a movie.”
“Have I read it?”
He snorted, “Probably.”
“Which one is it?”
“The Innocent Love Series.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
He rolled his eyes. “It’s okay, you can laugh, I know it’s not a typical part for me to want.” He fidgeted with his hands and popped his knuckles, like he was nervous or something.
“Hey.” I threw the pillow softly back. “You’re an actor, you can do it, right?”
“Right.” He cleared his throat.
“Is that why you’re here?”
He didn’t answer right away.
“Jaymeson?”
“Vacation.” He licked his lips. “Away from the Hollywood scene, and then hopefully they give me the movie.”
“So, you’ll be here for a few weeks and then leave?”
“That’s the plan.” His voice cracked.
“Well,” I said, putting the popcorn bowl onto the table. “I hope you get it. I think it would be really good for you to do something other than action movies.”
His head snapped up. “You do?”
“Of course.” I folded my arms around my knees. “Girls will love it, and if you can pull of the main character angst then you’ll be even more famous than you are now.” I tried to keep my voice light. The night had been so fun that I hadn’t thought about the fact that he’d be leaving soon. I would be alone again.
But I still had Smith.
And Jamie.
“Maybe.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I don’t really care about the fame though, honest. I just want to do something different. I don’t want to be the type of guy that does a ton of huge blockbuster hits but can never get out of that type casting, you know?”
“You won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you’re Jamie Jaymeson,” I teased. “You can do anything, right?”
His face lit up, he reached across the couch and grabbed my hand. “Thanks, Pris. Sorry to be so depressing.”
I squeezed his hand back. “No problem.”
A loud crash sounded outside the condo.
I shrieked, Jaymeson cursed about the condo being haunted.
“What was that?” I whispered.
“Ghosts,” he answered seriously. “Punishing us for watching Harrison Ford.”
“Be serious!” I released his hand with a jerk and got up to my feet.
He pulled me back down to the couch. “No, let me check it out.”
“What are you going to do? Swear at the ghost?”
“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes and walked toward the sliding glass door. Carefully, he slid it open and poked his head outside. “Hmm, I don’t see anything that would—” He slammed the doors shut, locked them, and pulled the blinds.
“Ghosts?” I offered.
“Worse.” He gave a shudder. “Huge storm. The water’s going crazy out there and one of the neighbors’ potted plants fell off the ledge and took a swim in the Pacific.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I hate storms,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Just like scary movies?” I yawned.
“Yeah.” Jaymeson smiled tightly. “It’s late. I guess I should be going since we have all those crazy boxes to pack tomorrow.”
He walked slowly to the door then turned. “Breakfast?”
“Are you asking if I’m eating breakfast or are you offering to cook me breakfast?”
Jaymeson shoved his hands into his front pockets, at times he seemed so unsure, like I was going to snap at him or something. “I was kind of offering.”
“Then, yes.” I smiled. “Breakfast.” I ignored the pitter-patter of my heart at his bright hopeful smile. I was not falling for him. Not at all. He was a player. He was a freaking movie star, and last time I fell for that smile I ended up rejected and totally humiliated.