Breaking Stars (The Celebrity 2)

Little did she know that the last thing I planned on telling big-mouthed Brina was that Paige Lockwood’s car broke down and she was staying at my house. That news would spread like wildfire, and the whole town would show up on Mama’s front porch by dinner.

“Just a tourist. Got a flat,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant so she’d take the hint and go away.

“That’s not exciting at all.” She pouted, tucking her hair behind her ear, and I wished she could see me rolling my eyes from where she was.

“I gotta go. ’Bye, Celeste.” I purposely didn’t say Brina’s name, silently wishing she’d leave this town—and me—behind already. But I’d always liked Celeste. After Brina dumped me and shattered my heart, my pride, and my ego, Celeste had always been the one to say that I could do better, that Brina didn’t deserve me. I’d always appreciated that, even if I never believed her.

“’Bye, Tatum.” Celeste smiled before whispering something to Brina, who then emphatically shook her head. “Coming to the kegger tomorrow night?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t think so.”

“Tatum, you have to join the land of the living sometime,” Celeste complained, her bright red hair blowing in the breeze as she and Brina climbed into her car.

She was

right, but my thoughts instantly went to Paige. I didn’t want to leave her alone, and I sure as shit didn’t want to bring her to something like that. I tried to imagine a Hollywood actress sitting on the tailgate of my truck while people blew shit up and acted like idiots.

Celeste leaned outside her open window. “Just think about it. Please. It will be fun. Like old times,” she said before she revved her engine.

Old times were exactly the problem. I didn’t get excited to hang out with everyone who never found their way out of this town. It used to be the thing to do when we were in high school, but high school was a long time ago. And I was over it.

“We’ll see,” I said noncommittally and they drove off, their hands waving good-bye in the air above the open Jeep Wrangler, its soft top stowed for the summer.

Locking the large garage door, I walked into the office and turned on the computer. I had to wait ages for it to start up and connect to the Internet, something I’d grown used to doing when it came to anything in my hometown. Life was slower-paced here, but I wasn’t in any rush.

Paige’s long tanned legs, brown hair, and her bright blue eyes filled my thoughts as my pants grew tight. I shifted in my seat, forcing my thoughts to her blown-to-bits tire sitting in my garage to calm myself down. Scanning my tire contact’s information, I shot him an e-mail telling him what I needed so he’d get the request first thing in the morning.

Then I scanned the entertainment headlines, searching for any recent news on Paige. I wasn’t sure what the hell had gotten into me, but even as that thought crossed my mind, I continued to search for any information on her. Typing her name into the search bar, I pressed Enter.

Numerous reports of her leaving town showed up immediately, including a press release and an official statement from her management team. I found a few articles on her dipshit ex-boyfriend, Colin, and his feeble attempt at saying it all was a misunderstanding and there was no wrongdoing on his part. The reporter asked if he’d talked to Paige, and he said they were “working things out.” Not only did I find that hard to believe, but I found myself getting pissed off at the very notion of it. This guy didn’t deserve her, that much I knew, and as long as I was around, there would be no working it out between them.

I smacked my palm against my head. What was I thinking? What the hell did I care? I didn’t know this girl. All I knew was that she was seriously hot and I liked looking at her. Irritated, I switched off the computer without another glance and stormed out of the office, locking it all up behind me as I left. My stomach growled, and I prayed I hadn’t missed supper completely. I hopped into my truck and headed toward home.

Where Paige was.

Paige.

Damn it, I needed to stop thinking about her, stop thinking about anything that had to do with her. She’d be gone soon, and the last thing I needed was to get all caught up in someone who had no intention of staying, much less a freaking actress from California.

Reaching Out

Paige

After dinner, Tatum’s mom insisted on cleaning up, explaining that was how a bed and breakfast worked. She wouldn’t let me help with anything. Tatum had shown up during the middle of our meal, his mood even worse than before, if that was possible. His mom offered to fix him a plate, but he rudely waved her off without even a glance in our direction and did it himself.

When he took the seat farthest away from me at the table, I suddenly wondered where his dad was and why they didn’t come in from the shop together. When I asked, the table grew silent except for the clang of Mrs. Montgomery’s fork as she dropped it onto her plate. Tatum’s jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists, and I wondered what I’d said wrong.

As Tatum’s face paled, his mom reached for her dropped fork. “Tatum’s daddy died a few years back.”

Drawing deep on my acting skills to hide my shock, I offered a meek apology. Tatum jumped up and stormed away from the table, then dropped his dishes into the sink with a crash before he rushed outside. The screen door slammed behind him, and the sound of his boots stomping back and forth as he paced across the wood-planked front porch drifted through the open windows.

“I’m so sorry,” I offered again.

Mrs. Montgomery leaned forward and whispered, “Not you, it’s him, remember?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, not truly believing her words. “Do you think I should try to talk to him?”

“It’s worth a shot,” she said, giving me a sad smile.