Breaking Stars Page 10

  I continued to ignore the other e-mails from my agent, manager, publicist, and everyone else, figuring that they could all wait until I was ready to deal with them. It surprised me how good it felt to claim some of my power back, although a small part of me felt like I was just avoiding everything and that avoidance didn’t really equal power.

  While I was relieved to have left town, I also felt cowardly. As if running away was a weak move, even if it had been necessary. And I convinced myself that it had been absolutely necessary to leave. I imagined myself sitting in a corner in my apartment all alone, rocking back and forth, if I hadn’t gotten out of there when I did.

  I logged off and turned around, searching for Tatum. He was standing in the kitchen watching me, but his eyes had a faraway look about them.

  “So, about tonight…” I started, and watched as his eyes blinked and refocused.

  “What about it?”

  “I wanna go.”

  “Have you thought about this, Paige? I mean, really thought about this?” He crossed the space between us and stood in front of me.

  “What is there to think about?”

  “The repercussions of your actions, maybe? That going to this party might ruin everything for you?”

  I let out an exasperated breath. “Tatum, just stop.”

  “Stop what?” he asked as he tucked his hands inside his jeans pockets.

  “You’re trying to control me, and that’s exactly why I left LA in the first place. I don’t need more people in my life telling me what I can and can’t do.”

  “I don’t want to control you. I just want to protect you,” he said, and the sincerity of his words took the edge off my anger.

  “Protect me? I don’t need you to protect me. I just want to do something normal. But I don’t want to do it without you. Please come with me tonight.”

  He looked conflicted as he pondered my request. I didn’t want to fight with him, but I would in order to get what I wanted. And right now, I craved normalcy. I longed for something typical. And a Southern field party was something I wanted to experience.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I repeated with a slight smile.

  “We’ll go.”

  “Yay!” I hopped up and wrapped my arms around his shoulders without thinking, my body pressing against his in every place it could. I felt him harden against me as he quickly pushed me away. “Sorry,” I said quickly, feeling stupid, but secretly turned on by what had just happened.

  “We’ll head out after dinner,” was all he said before leaving me standing alone in his living room.

  I knew Tatum was attracted to me. I could see it in the way he looked at me, but he apparently had far more self-control than I did. He had indifference down to a fine art, and every time he hit me with it, I felt dumber and dumber.

  “Tatum?” I shouted toward his bedroom, and he poked his head out from the doorway with his eyebrows raised in response. “Any word about my car?”

  Changing the subject seemed to be a good idea. Maybe if we focused on something else, he’d stop running away from me.

  “The tire’s going to take a week to get here,” he said flatly.

  “A week?” I honestly didn’t care, but my surprise made my words come out sounding as if I were annoyed.

  He blinked, then said deliberately, “It’s a specialized tire, so it’s taking extra time. I can put a rush on it if you need to get out of here sooner. I’ll go to town and pick it up or—”

  He was shutting me out again; I could see it written all over his face, so I shook my head and interrupted him. “No. It’s okay. I was just surprised, but you know I’m not in any rush.”

  Did he know I wasn’t in any rush?

  Well, he did now.

  • • •

  After changing into my dark brown sundress that went perfectly with Mrs. Montgomery’s leather boots, I accessorized with some turquoise jewelry and was all set to go. When I stepped out of my room, I found Tatum waiting for me wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a black sleeveless shirt. His arm muscles bulged with definition, and his baseball cap was on backward, covering his dark brown hair. He looked as hot as hell, and I wanted to meet the hell maker.

  Tatum examined me from head to toe, hesitating on my legs for a moment, long enough for me to catch him doing it. I smiled, happy he liked what he saw, even if he’d never admit it.

  We walked together toward his truck, then Tatum opened the door for me and Buster suddenly pushed me aside and tried to jump in. “No, Buster! Go lay down,” Tatum shouted, and Buster retreated toward the house. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay,” I said before hopping into the truck and tugging down the hem of my dress.

  Tatum sat in the driver’s seat and cranked the ignition. The truck’s engine roared and he shifted into reverse. Before he let his foot off the brake, he turned to me, his fingers mere inches from my shoulder. “You look really pretty. The boots suit you.”

  “Thanks. You look really nice too.” Our eyes locked for a moment before he looked out the back window.

  The drive was painless, but quiet. Country music played softly on the radio as I took in my surroundings, constantly making little sounds of wonder when something new to me came into view, which was often.

  Tatum pulled the truck onto a gravel drive and drove for what seemed like miles before we passed the first house. “Is this it?” I asked.

  “That’s just their house. We’re heading out into the field. Still have a little ways to go yet.” Tatum smiled and continued staring ahead.

  Eventually there was a break from the rows of crops where a plowed dirt field sat looking out of place. “Why is it,” I started to ask but didn’t know how to word my question. “Do things not grow out here? I’m confused.”

  “They plow it for us to party on,” he said, as if it was the most natural answer on earth.

  “You plow perfectly usable crop space away to party on?”

  “Oh, Princess,” he said with a deep, throaty laugh. I loved the laugh but hated the nickname, so I frowned. “They aren’t using this part of the field, so they keep it plowed so we can come out here.”

  “Okay,” I said with a shrug, still not really getting it, but accepting his answer all the same.

  It was well before sunset and plenty of people were milling around with red plastic cups in their hands. Lifted trucks of all shapes and sizes sat parked in a circle, their tailgates down as country music blasted from someone’s speakers. A crowd was milling around one of the trucks, and I noticed there was a keg in the back of it.

  “How do we see later? Or do we all just hang out in the dark together,” I asked, feeling like an idiot.

  “Most of us turn on our headlights,” Tatum answered.

  “Ah, gotcha.”

  “In the winter we have bonfires. But not when it’s hot at night like this.”

  “How do you guys keep the fire from burning up the nearby field?” I was slightly concerned with this situation.

  Tatum smiled. A real, full-on, genuine smile, and I wanted to tell him to never stop doing that. My attraction doubled each time those lips curled upward. “The fire pit gets set up in a pile of dirt so there’s nothing for it to burn except the wood. And we always carry plenty of water in case things get out of hand. But we’ve been doing this for years. The fire burns itself out eventually.”

  “You guys have never…not once…lit the town on fire?” I tilted my head and raised my eyebrows. “Or this farm?”

  “Cross my heart.” His hands gestured across his chest and my eyes followed.

  “So are you taking me around to meet everyone, or will they come to us? How does this work?”

  “It’s a party, Paige. Everyone is gonna be pretty social. And seeing as how you’re a new girl and you’re with me, we’re going to draw plenty of attention tonight.” Worry lines deepened between his eyebrows as he turned his baseball cap around and pulled it low.

  I looked up and not
iced a group staring in our direction. “They’re already looking over here.”

  “It’s not because of you,” he said, “at least not yet. I haven’t been out here in a couple years.”

  “How come?”

  “I just haven’t wanted to be around everyone since my dad died. I sort of felt like when I quit college, I’d let the whole town down,” he admitted, and my heart pinched for him.

  “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “I’m not. You ready for this?” He gestured with his head toward the group now making their way toward us.

  “Yep!” I answered with excitement in my voice.

  And I honestly felt that way…at first. Then the group of people reached us. The guys shook hands with Tatum, saying things like “It’s been too long” and “Good to see you, man.” And before they asked him who I was, they all stopped and stared. Their eyebrows pulled together as they tried to figure out why I looked so familiar.

  I started to shift my weight from foot to foot before the whispers kicked in, and I heard “Paige Lockwood” mentioned in every other breath. This was the sort of thing I was used to. Most people reacted this way when they saw me in public.

  “Tatum, who’s your friend?” a guy with blond hair asked.

  “Troy, this is my—” Tatum fumbled a little before recovering. “Paige. Paige, this is Troy.”

  I extended my hand toward the guy, who brought it to his lips and kissed the top of it. Laughing, I pulled my hand back and shook my head.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Paige.”

  Tatum’s face reddened. “Knock it off, Troy,” he said, glaring at his buddy.

  “What? I was just saying hi.” Troy lifted his hands, palms up in innocence, but Tatum looked genuinely upset.

  “You okay with all this?” Tatum whispered in my ear as his hand settled possessively on the small of my back.

  “Yeah. I’m fine,” I said, loving the way his hand felt.

  “Are you Paige Lockwood?” Troy asked, and the crowd around us grew quiet.

  I nodded instead of saying yes, and he promptly asked if we could take a picture together. He pulled out his phone and I leaned in toward him, my head resting against his as he took a selfie of us.

  Tatum looked around at the group that was now chirping with excitement and squabbling about who was next to take a picture with me. “Okay, listen up. Paige got a flat tire and she’s staying in town with us until I get the damn thing fixed. All we ask is that you don’t post about her being here. Not on Twitter, or Facebook, or InstaStupid or whatever the hell else you kids are playing on these days.”

  The crowd laughed and one of the guys hollered, calling him an old man as Tatum continued. “Please don’t ruin this for Paige. If you post about where she is, she’ll have to leave.”

  He leaned toward me. “Do you care if they post the pictures after you’re gone?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  Tatum pulled me close, then addressed the group again. “Feel free to post the pictures you take with her after she’s left town. But not before. I don’t want to have to kick anyone’s ass tonight,” he finished, looking me in the eye before planting a kiss on my cheek.

  What the hell?

  Dear Lord, please make him do it again. And then again. And then he can move straight on to my mouth and never stop. Ever. Tatum may have lost his mind, but don’t help him find it. Not if it means he’ll stop kissing me.

  I decided to address the crowd as well. I didn’t want Tatum to be speaking for me when I felt like I should be the one explaining myself to them.

  “Like Tatum said, no one knows where I am right now, and I really want to keep it that way. I love your town and I’m enjoying spending time here. I’m not quite ready to leave, but if it gets out that I’m here, I’ll have no choice. So I just want to thank you all in advance for respecting my privacy. I really appreciate it. And once I do head back to LA, feel free to post our pics together wherever you want.” I smiled broadly, making eye contact with everyone who surrounded me.

  The group immediately shouted their approval and then swarmed me for pictures and autographs. Everyone was incredibly sweet, but they were overwhelming as well. Hollywood was such a foreign concept to them, in the same way that their way of life was to me. They had a ton of questions that they weren’t afraid to ask. Anything personal I politely refused to answer, but questions about living in LA and my work, I happily answered. I understood the appeal and figured that I’d do the same thing if the shoe were on the other foot.

  “Paige, do you want something to drink?” Tatum’s voice shouted over the questions being tossed at me.

  I knew he meant alcohol, but I honestly didn’t want to let my guard down in this situation. “Do they have sweet tea? I’ve grown kind of fond of it,” I said as I gave him a huge grin.

  “Sweet tea it is, Princess!” he shouted before taking off.

  More laughter and shouting came from somewhere behind me, and I turned in time to see Brina and Celeste exiting a Jeep Wrangler. They both looked amazing. When Celeste caught sight of me, she waved like crazy and I waved back. The group surrounding me turned to see who I was waving to, and a few whispers accompanied the revelation.

  “Hey, girl! So, what do you think?” Celeste asked with a big smile before giving me a quick hug.

  “Is everyone here so good-looking? I mean, really!” I said, deliberately complimenting everyone within hearing range.

  “It’s the curse of the South. Gorgeous people stuck in the middle of nowhere with no one to find them.” She laughed, tossing her head back, and her fiery hair fell from around her shoulders and spilled onto her back.

  “You made it.” Brina leaned in to give me a quick hug and my defenses sharpened.

  “Yep.”

  Brina looked me up and down before commenting, “Nice boots.”

  I looked down. “Oh, thanks. They’re Mrs. Montgomery’s.”

  Her eyes widened as her lips pressed tightly together. She turned to look at Tatum, who was busy talking with a group of guys, drinks in hand. When he didn’t acknowledge her, she turned back to me. “It’s nice that you get along so well with her.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant exactly. Was she hinting that she and Mrs. Montgomery hadn’t gotten along when she dated Tatum? I couldn’t imagine that, so I dropped it, hoping I could ask Tatum about it later.

  A strong hand found its way onto my lower back once again and I leaned into it after making sure it belonged to Tatum. “Here’s your tea.” He handed me a red plastic cup filled to the brim.

  “You didn’t spike this, did you?” I asked playfully, peering up at him through my eyelashes.

  He took a swig of his beer before winking. “Want to get out of here?”

  “But we just got here,” I said, disappointed. “And you’re drinking.”

  “No. I meant here,” he gestured to the crowd still surrounding me, “away from the crowd and picture taking.”

  I looked around, wondering what exactly he had in mind before I agreed, not that it really mattered. I’d follow Tatum anywhere he wanted. “I guess.”

  “Come on.” He reached for my hand and interlaced our fingers before pulling me away. I waved my cup at Celeste, who had a smile ten feet wide plastered on her face, and Brina, who wore a scowl about the same size.

  “Where are we going?” I whispered.

  “Just over to my truck.”

  We walked to the back where Tatum lowered the tailgate and placed our drinks on the ground. He spread out a thick blanket he had brought across the bed of the truck, then hopped in. “Hand me the drinks, please,” he drawled, and I happily obliged. Putting them down, he reached out a hand to pull me up. Two beanbag chairs were pressed against the cab of the truck, and he straightened them out before sitting down on one and patting the other one for me.

  I plopped down next to him and looked up at the darkening sky. I’d never seen so many stars before and it was barely dusk. LA had too m
any lights that drowned out the night’s sky almost completely. Even during nights when I thought I could see a lot of stars, it was nothing compared to this. I found myself wishing again that a camera would do any of this justice, but I knew it was up to my memory to capture the view and hold on to it.

  “It’s beautiful out here,” I said before turning to look at Tatum.

  “It sure is,” he said, looking straight at me.

  I felt myself blush as I wished he’d let me wrap myself up in his arms. The kiss on the cheek made me want more from him, but I was too scared to initiate anything physical. Tatum could make me feel amazing and wanted one second, and discarded the next.

  “So, are you having fun yet?” He leaned his head against the back of his makeshift seat.

  “I am. Everyone’s really nice.”

  He grinned. “They didn’t leave you alone the second they found out who you were. How many autographs did you sign, Paige? How many pictures did you take?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing or caring what the answer was. This type of thing was part of my job, and I was used to it. But there was a niggling in the back of my mind. A realization had forced its way through and I frowned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just thinking,” I admitted and forced a slight smile.

  “About what?”

  “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” I shrugged, stumbling on my words, my thoughts, my emotions.

  “Why are you really here?” he asked. “There’s more to the story than what you’ve told me.”

  “Of course there’s more to the story. We’ve barely talked at all. I mean, I try to talk and you get all pissy and shut down.”

  He looked away briefly. “I know. I just…”

  “You’re not good at making small talk. I know. You’ve told me that one already,” I said for him. “More than once.”

  “That wasn’t what I was going to say. Smartass,” he teased.

  “Oh.” I didn’t hide my surprise. “What were you going to say then?”