Breaking Stars Page 8

  “Well, you’re here now. In the true South. Might as well enjoy it.”

  My smile widened. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  No Rush to Leave

  Tatum

  Fresh coffee and sandwich in hand from the café, I walked side by side with Buster down the narrow street back toward the garage. Buster was my dad’s dog, and he used to bring him to work almost every day. The damn dog even had a giant puffy bed thing in the corner of the office. Dad used to say that the dog would sleep all day long, snoring away through the pounding and the machines. He used to think that was the funniest thing ever, the way Buster would sleep through life. But he loved that dog. And I loved my dad. It sucked without him here.

  I pulled my old man’s chair back from the desk, sat down, and turned on the computer. Buster whined at my side. “What’s the matter¸ boy?” He did that sometimes now. He’d stare at me and whine like he was telling me some secret I couldn’t understand, or he’d head over to the place where we found my dad’s body, then lie down next to it. Damn near killed me when he did that shit.

  Pushing the memory from my mind, I shook my head and sipped my coffee. Opening up the latest e-mail from my tire guy, I read his response carefully.

  It will most likely take me a few days, maybe even a week to get that kind of tire in. Who the hell is driving a BMW in these parts?

  I laughed to myself and wrote back:

  Just a tourist. Take your time with the tire; she’s in no rush.

  Pressing Send, I sat back. What the hell did I just write? Take your time? She’s in no rush? Who the hell was I to speak for Paige? Clearly, I was the one who was in no rush to get her out of town. The bigger question was: Why?

  A response pinged on the computer, and I winced at the e-mail’s title:

  You’re in luck!

  I clicked on the message to reveal the whole thing.

  The tire will be in first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll have it delivered by the afternoon.

  I responded with a quick thank-you, then slammed my fist on the desk before grabbing my coffee cup. Tomorrow? The last thing I wanted was Paige out of my life by tomorrow. Thoughts of her leaving drove me half mad.

  I picked up the phone and dialed Mama’s number. When she answered on the second ring, I impatiently tapped my pen on top of the desk and asked, “Hey, Mama, is Paige there?”

  “I just sent her off to the swimming hole. Sorry, hon.”

  I stopped tapping. “Did she go there alone?”

  “No. I sent her with all her friends.”

  Smartass. “Very funny,” I snapped. “What if people are there, Ma?”

  She sucked in a quick breath. “Shoot, Tatum. I didn’t even think about that.”

  Even though the swimming hole was on our property, my high school friends and their little brothers and sisters would sneak on and hang out there most days in the summer. It wasn’t like we didn’t know they were doing it; we just didn’t care. It never mattered before today if our water was the most popular hangout spot in the area.

  “I’ll head over there and make sure she’s okay,” Mama offered, and the fine hairs on my neck bristled.

  “No. I’ll do it. I don’t want anyone giving her a hard time. With this hot weather, if she’s alone, I doubt she will be for long.”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Did you hear about her tire?”

  “It won’t be here for a week,” I said, the lie slipping easily from my mouth.

  “Oh dear. She’ll have to stay for a whole week then, huh? I hope she’ll be okay with that,” Mama said sweetly, but her tone told me she was up to something.

  “I’ll tell her when I see her. I gotta finish up some paperwork and make some phone calls before I head out. Talk to you later, Ma.”

  I hung up before she said anything, knowing I’d get an earful for that move later. Mama hated being hung up on and scolded me any chance she could about my Southern manners. I should have called her back to apologize, but right now I was too flustered to think about anything other than Paige. Anyone could be at the swimming hole, and she had no idea she might have some unwanted company.

  I knew she wasn’t some vulnerable and weak little girl, but something in me wanted to protect her. Maybe it was seeing her broken down on the side of the road, totally clueless about where to go or what to do. Or maybe it was knowing what her dickhead ex-boyfriend had done to her publicly that made me want to wrap her in my arms and lock her away. Hell, I didn’t know what it was about Paige Lockwood, but I felt like I’d go to battle for her.

  Scrolling through the rest of my e-mails, I answered the ones I could and made phone calls with updates to the rest. I finished up my paperwork, checked in on outstanding orders, and called it a day. Before I left, I put up the sign letting people know I was away from the office for the rest of the day. That usually meant I was either at home, or driving out of town to pick up a part or an order. It wasn’t unusual for me to be gone for hours at a time on weekdays.

  Everyone knew how to get a hold of me, and if anyone needed anything, I’d be right there. I handled a lot of farm machines and trucks, ordering new parts for the worn-out old ones and putting them in. The cars in this town seemed to last forever, but the machines tended to break more than they used to. Of course there were the typical new tires, oil changes, and the like, but most of the men here handled that stuff on their own. They would order the oil and tire from me, but as far as the labor went, they managed it themselves. It was when the big things happened, like engines and transmissions blowing, that I needed to get involved and get my hands dirty.

  But the girls in town preferred to have every little thing done in my shop. Hell, they’d have me adjust their rearview mirror for them if I’d do it. I wasn’t stupid enough to pretend I didn’t know why; it just irritated me more than anything. I’d grown up with everyone here and had known them my whole life. That was the thing about a small town like this—it was hard to have feelings more than friendship for most of the people who lived in it.

  After Brina dumped me, I’d never thought about girls much. Never gave any consideration to getting married, or having another girlfriend. I simply didn’t care anymore. Girls weren’t worth the heartache.

  And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it hard to trust again. Brina took every ounce of trust and belief I’d had in our relationship and discarded it like a piece of unwanted garbage. Talk about feeling worthless. It took me months to realize she was the problem, not me. But to say that I wasn’t scarred would be another lie.

  That relationship practically destroyed my sense of self-worth. I never wanted to feel like that again, so I didn’t allow it. I kept myself closed off from everyone and I refused to open up. It was just easier that way. Keeping everything locked up inside was effortless when you didn’t have anyone you wanted to share it all with.

  Swimming Hole

  Paige

  I followed Mrs. Montgomery’s directions and walked down the dirt pathway carved through her property. Plush green grass grew tall on each side of me and the trees were large, overgrown, and spectacular. I’d never been surrounded by so much greenery before. Los Angeles was mostly concrete and brown since we didn’t get much rain. Not to mention the fact that people couldn’t stop building things on every piece of available space there was. Seeing a landscape filled with so much color was awe inspiring.

  In moments like these, I wished I were the creative type. If I were a painter, I’d stop and paint the scene around me. If I could draw, I’d sketch the way the tree branches dipped low and looked like arms bearing heavy loads. But since I could do neither of those things without putting out something that looked like it was done by a second grader, I simply scanned the area and committed it to memory. Sure, I could have pulled out my phone and taken a picture of it, but it wouldn’t be the same. Sometimes a photograph didn’t do a place justice the way physically being there did.

  When the swimming hole came into view, I stopped and
smiled to myself as the trees thinned out to reveal this perfect little area. It was like something straight out of a movie set. I realized I always compared everything to movie screens and sets, but that had been my life for the last seven years and had formed my frame of reference.

  What Mrs. Montgomery referred to as a swimming hole was actually a bend in the river that was wider than the rest. The water slowed here, probably because it was deeper, and the banks were rounded, reminding me of a secluded lagoon.

  Large rocks lined one side of the hole, and tree branches hung low over the water, nearly dipping in. The rope swing dangled in almost the middle of the water, and I realized that I had to climb out onto a tree branch if I wanted to reach it. The area around the water looked like it had been groomed to mimic a shoreline. All the small pebbles had been cleared and the sandy ground was smoothed out evenly. I spread my towel across it and lay down, listening to nothing but the sound of the water moving and the birds chirping.

  My entire being relaxed as sunlight streamed through the tree branches and warmed my skin. Mrs. Montgomery was right. It was peaceful.

  “Oh, hi. We didn’t know anyone was here.”

  The sound of female voices startled me, and I practically jumped off the ground before I even opened my eyes. I glanced up to see two girls who appeared to be around my age looking down at me. Sitting up, I took inventory of the newcomers. One was blond, while the other was a fiery redhead. They were both striking in their appearance, making me wish I’d put on makeup this morning.

  The girls inspected me from head to toe as I silently waited for the recognition to kick in. It was my experience that the majority of girls my own age knew who I was. Even if they weren’t fans of my movies, they knew me anyway.

  “Oh shit, are you Paige Lockwood?” the pretty blonde asked from behind her oversized sunglasses, her head tilted to one side as she elbowed her redheaded friend in the ribs.

  I sucked in a quick breath and steadied the nervousness that suddenly surged through my body. I could have tried to lie to them, but I was never a good liar. “Yeah.”

  “Oh my gosh! I loved you in Summer Rain. It’s one of my favorite movies!” the girl gushed.

  My cheeks warmed and I mumbled, “Thanks.”

  “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it’s really you. This is so cool!” she continued, and I didn’t know how to respond. I was never sure what to say in situations like this where the person wasn’t really asking a question, but more making comments. Fortunately, I didn’t have to stumble for long before she cooed, “So, what’s it really like to make out with all the hottest guys in Hollywood?”

  That question I could answer easily. “It’s not like you think,” I said with a smile.

  “What do you mean? You’ve had like the hottest guys in all your movies. Kissing them has to be the best thing ever!”

  I nodded. “But it’s work. And you’re not alone when you’re filming these scenes that are supposed to be super romantic, you know?”

  The blonde shook her head and said, “No. What do you mean?”

  “We’re surrounded by a ton of crew members. Someone’s making sure the lighting is hitting us just right, and there’s a guy holding a giant boom mic to pick up all our lines and sounds.” I held my arms up to mimic what it was like to hold out the giant microphone on the heavy pole. “And there’s the director and the assistant director, the makeup artists, wardrobe.”

  “Ew. That’s a lot of people watching you make out,” the redhead said as she scrunched up her face.

  “Exactly.” I nodded. “Not romantic. At all.”

  “Well, that stinks,” the blonde said. “So, what are you doing here anyway?”

  “My car got a flat, so I’m just here until Tatum gets it fixed.”

  His name slipped off my tongue with such ease, it almost surprised me as much as it did the blond girl. At the mention of him, her body language changed completely and her stance became defensive as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Ah, so the BMW is yours, I take it?” she asked, her tone now overly sweet, but in a way that warned me to proceed with caution. “It’s a really nice car. Tatum showed it to me yesterday at the shop.”

  The redhead glanced at her, then frowned and made a face.

  “He showed you my car?” I asked, not quite believing her.

  She nodded, her lips pressed together in a fake smile. “I’m sure Tatum will fix it up in no time. He’s good at everything he does.” Then she pinned me with a knowing look as she added, “If you know what I mean.”

  My skin prickled with her words and my chest felt like it was filled with bricks as I inhaled each breath. I hated what this girl was insinuating. It was ridiculous for me to care so much about a virtual stranger, but I didn’t like thinking that Tatum belonged to anyone, much less this kind of girl. Jealous feelings flowed through me before I could think about where they came from or why they were there.

  My emotions confused me. Just a few days ago I was mourning the loss of Colin and being humiliated by his actions, and today I was getting all jealous at the thought of a guy I didn’t even know had a girlfriend. Who does that?

  I wanted to reach inside my chest, pull my heart out, and have a frank discussion with it about its behavior. We needed to be on the same page, or at least in the same book.

  The redhead extended her hand. “I’m Celeste and this is Brina. She’s Tatum’s ex-girlfriend.” Celeste emphasized the ex part, much to Brina’s dismay, and the bricks in my chest immediately burst, making breathing much easier.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said with a smile. The last thing I needed was enemies, or crazy ex-girlfriends causing me any more personal drama.

  “And I love all your movies. You’re a great actress,” Celeste added, sounding genuine.

  I gave her a quick smile. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

  “Oh yeah, we’re big fans,” Brina chimed in. “I made Tatum watch all your movies. He was always—” Brina stopped short, her face twisted with whatever thoughts she was suddenly thinking. She didn’t finish her sentence, and I didn’t press.

  “Thanks again. That’s really nice of you both. And I definitely appreciate you making your boyfriends sit through my girly flicks,” I said with a laugh.

  “I don’t ever remember Tatum complaining,” Celeste teased, and Brina scowled at her.

  “He hated when I made him watch your movies.”

  “They usually do,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, but my insides were bruised. The idea of Tatum hating what I did for a living hurt my feelings. Quinn was right; I was too sensitive.

  Brina turned to flap her towel in the air before she settled it onto the dirt not far from mine. Celeste followed suit. “I hope it’s still okay if we hang out here with you? We like to come here to lay out during the day when we can.”

  “It’s fine with me. Some company would be nice,” I admitted, although I didn’t want this to turn into some sort of Q-and-A session that would be sold to the tabloids the second I left town. I hated having to constantly be on guard and watch the things that came out of my mouth, but that was one of the harsh realities of the business I was in. Anything I said could be sold, misconstrued, or used against me if the person were malicious enough.

  The girls lay down on their towels, then began to apply sunscreen to their legs and stomachs. “So, what are you doing all the way out in Hanford, Paige?” Brina asked.

  I supposed there was no harm in answering that question. Tatum and his mom had asked the same thing. My deeper personal reasons were no one’s business but mine, so I answered vaguely, “I just needed to get out of LA for a little while. And my car got a flat, so here I am.”

  “Oh yeah, we read all about what Colin did to you,” Celeste said angrily.

  “I think everyone did,” I admitted, embarrassed.

  “What a jerk. Who does that and thinks they aren’t going to get caught?” she added.

  I shrugged. “I don
’t know.”

  “Well, he’s a real jerk, Paige. You’re better off without him.”

  “Thanks, Celeste.”

  “But he’s so hot. I bet he’s an awesome kisser,” Brina added before slapping her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out.”

  “She’s always speaking before she thinks,” Celeste said, then smacked her friend on the arm.

  “It’s okay. He is really good-looking. But that only goes so far when everything else about you sucks.” I instantly wished I could inhale the words back into my mouth as my mind flashed to a tabloid headline that read “Paige Lockwood Says Everything About Colin McGuire Sucks!” I needed to be more careful.

  “Did he ever write any songs about you?” Brina asked, and I actually laughed.

  “No. Colin doesn’t write his own music.”

  “Seriously?” both girls asked in unison.

  “Seriously. Not a single lyric,” I admitted, and felt good how that fact seemed like a slam against Colin. One more thing he didn’t do well, or at all.

  Celeste’s eyes grew wide. “Wow. I’m shocked.”

  “Don’t be. A lot of singers don’t write their own stuff. I think it’s more rare when they actually do.”

  “So, how long do you think you’ll stay in town?” Brina asked.

  “I’m not sure, actually.” My thoughts instantly drifted to Tatum’s body last night when he opened his door, shirtless and wet. Everything in me suddenly buzzed with energy and I longed to be near him, even if it wasn’t what he wanted. I enjoyed the way my body reacted to his.

  “Well, you should definitely come to the field party tonight,” Celeste said.

  “Oh yeah? What is it?” My interest was ignited. I’d never heard of a field party, but I assumed it was pretty much what the name implied.

  “It’s a giant party,” Celeste answered.

  “Oh my gosh, yes. Paige, you have to come. You’ll love it,” Brina added.

  “What’s it like?”