Breaking Stars (The Celebrity 2)

nbsp; She grinned like a Cheshire cat before launching into my arms. “Just kidding. I can’t think about anything but kissing you either.” Her lips pressed against mine before they parted and her tongue slid inside.

I licked her bottom lip, pulling it into my mouth as I sucked on it gently. Kissing her was like free-falling off a cliff that had no end. I floated in a world filled with nibbling and licking and sensations I’d fought off even thinking about for the last few years.

My insides felt like they were on fire, suddenly awake after being numb. You’d think that my heart would be rusty, that it might need a few beats to get used to the idea of wanting someone after being closed for business for so long. But no, not my heart. It started beating to its own rhythm the second we saw her, instructing my body to feel, want, and need—three things I hadn’t experienced in years. This girl sitting right here called to me. I was a ship about to crash into oblivion on the rocky shore, and she was a beacon of fire, determined to save me with her light. And oh, what a beautiful light it was.

After making out for a while, I pushed her away. She laughed while I focused on my breathing. This girl tested all my resolve. I grabbed us each a beer, and we sat across from each other on the couch in my living room.

“So you’ll stay on your side of the couch, and I’ll stay on mine? Is that how this works?” she said playfully, pushing her toes against my feet.

“Yep. You keep your perfect little lips over there away from mine. You’re like a temptress.”

“A temptress, huh? Well, that’s a heck of a lot better than a princess.”

A laugh escaped from my throat. “You like being called Princess. Admit it.”

She shook her head vigorously. “I don’t. I really don’t.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause it sucks!” she insisted. “It insinuates all sort of stupid things that I don’t like or relate to. I know I’m an actress, and I get way too many things for nothing, but I’m not that kind of person. I wasn’t raised that way. I work really hard.”

“But that’s just it, Princess. You think being an actress is hard work,” I said, then instantly wished I could take back the words.

She sat up straighter and cocked her head. “I know to someone like you it probably sounds stupid. I’m not up at the crack of dawn plowing fields or baling hay or growing corn. But I do work hard. Please don’t pretend like you know what it’s like to be me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Feeling like a complete ass and desperate to recover, I asked, “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I work really long hours. I have obligations to more people than I can count. I can’t leave my house without someone following me or taking my picture. I know that’s not hard work, per se, but it’s hard emotionally,” she said emphatically. “When I’m filming, we usually film all day long, from first thing in the morning until nine or so at night. And if we have a night scene to shoot, I’m there until whenever that finishes, which sometimes isn’t until two or three in the morning. There’s a lot of sitting around and waiting, but it’s not like I can go to sleep or go home. I have to sit there until they’re ready for me. And not mess up my hair or ruin my makeup in the meantime.” She stopped suddenly and growled, “Damn it.”

“What?” I asked, and had to stop myself from pointing out to her that she just swore for the first time in front of me.

“I’m trying to tell you that I work hard, but everything I’m saying is just stupid. None of it sounds hard. I have to memorize lines and get into character and be really good at what I do. But I know that my job is a luxury. I know how lucky I am.”

“You do more than just act, though. I mean, you’re all over the place.”

“I am. I have meetings constantly. I’m reading scripts all the time, deciding if I like certain parts or not. I also have to do a ton of publicity for all of my movies, as well as personal publicity. I like the image that I have, and I work hard to make sure it stays that way.”

She took a sip of her beer before continuing. “I have to be really particular about what events I attend. I need to know who is putting on the event, what it’s about, who else is going to be there, where it’s at, and that kind of thing. I also have to pick and choose where I hang out and who I hang out with. All kinds of things that most normal people never even have to consider because they don’t wake up with their antics from the night before plastered all over the Internet and the supermarket tabloids.”

She sighed. “I’m not complaining because I knew it was part of the deal. It’s just more work. And it never ends. I never get to walk away and say, leave the office at five p.m. and turn my work off when I get home, you know? My work and my reputation and the things that I do are a 24/7 job. It never stops. I never shut off.”

“That would be hard,” I said slowly, realizing that only certain people could handle that sort of life.

“Don’t make fun of me,” she snapped.

“Shit, Paige.” I reached across the couch for her knee and squeezed. “I wasn’t. I wasn’t at all. I think it sounds like a lot of unnecessary shit to deal with. And I have no idea how you’re still such a good and kind person.”

That got a smile out of her, a big one, and I wanted to pat myself on the back. “Thank you, Tatum. I try really hard to stay grounded. Being raised normal made all the difference, I think.”

“Raised normal?”

“I just mean I wasn’t raised in the business. Sure, I’ve been doing it since I was fourteen, but that also means that I had fourteen years of complete and utter normalcy, unlike my best friend, Quinn, who was raised in the business. She has no idea why I miss the things I miss, or want the things I want, because she never had that in her life and it doesn’t appeal to her.”

“But she’s your best friend, so she can’t be all that bad,” I said, knowing exactly who she referred to. Quinn Johnson was hot as hell. Nowhere near as hot as Paige, though. Quinn was blond, and I had a thing for brunettes. At least I did now.

“Quinn’s amazing, but she’s had hard times. She just went through them all before we found each other. If I had known her when she doing the stuff she was doing, we wouldn’t have been friends.”

“You don’t think so?”