Home > Between the Lines (Between the Lines #1)(41)

Between the Lines (Between the Lines #1)(41)
Author: Tammara Webber

*** *** ***

Emma

“So what, exactly, are the boys doing?” MiShaun asks over dinner Friday night.

“They went tubing.” Brooke answers.

“Pardon me?” MiShaun says, one eyebrow raised.

“A shallow, slow-moving river, inner tubes—like from tires—and a day of doing nothing but floating downstream. Add beer and girls in bikinis and it’s a guy’s wet dream. Ha, ha.”

“Sounds like a guaranteed sunburn to me,” Jenna says.

MiShaun agrees. “Richter will have their hides if they come back looking like well-done lobsters.”

“Excuse me, are you Brooke Cameron? From Life’s a Beach?” Two girls stand hesitantly by our table, apprehensive but determined.

Brooke turns, a wide smile replacing her blasé expression. “Yes, I am.”

“Oh, we love you!” the second girl says while the first nods. “You’re so bitchy and awesome!” Both girls blanch. “I mean, I know Kirsten is just your character, that you aren’t really, uh—.”

“Don’t worry—I strive for bitchy and awesome.” She laughs and they relax. “Would you like to take a picture or something?” A whirlwind of activity occurs as the two fans dig their phones out of their bags.

The rest of us slide looks towards each other that say Who is this person?

While Jenna takes a photo of Brooke with one of her fans, the other girl glances around the table. “Ohmigod, MiShaun Grant! Wow, you guys are friends? That’s so cool!”

“We’re in Austin filming a movie,” Brooke says, motioning for the second girl to get into the photo Jenna is about to take.

“You are?” That’s when they recognize me. I don’t know if they think they’re being subtle, or if they don’t care. They stare and whisper behind their hands. “Wait. Hold on. Are you talking about the movie with Reid Alexander?” Both girls scan the restaurant.

“Yes,” Brooke says, a new edge to her voice. “And he’s not here.” Meredith and I exchange another look.

Their disappointment is palpable. “Can we at least get a photo with you, too?” one of them asks MiShaun, who flashes Meredith and me a smirk.

“Sure thing. Always happy to do impromptu photo ops with my adoring fans.” Her sarcastic tone is gently veiled by the words. Meredith bites the inside of her cheek and examines her silverware as I cough-laugh into my napkin. MiShaun leans towards the fans, smiling, while Jenna snaps the photos. The photo requests are repeated with me, and suddenly I can hardly wait to get back to the hotel.

“You girls have a nice evening,” Brooke dismisses the two girls and turns back to Jenna as though they’d been interrupted in the middle of a scintillating conversation.

“God,” Brooke says as they walk away, “Reid’s a pain in the ass even when he isn’t around.”

Chapter 24

REID

John’s CEO father called last night and ordered him home. Apparently he has orientation for college starting Monday morning, and he’s supposed to check in tomorrow. Oops.

No matter how loud and intimidating my dad is, he doesn’t compare to John’s dad, a CEO who handles everyone he encounters, no matter who they are, as though they work for him. That includes John, who nicknamed him the Dark Lord when we were sixteen. John doesn’t work and is completely financially dependent, so when the Dark Lord says jump, he jumps.

John and I are sharing one of the cottages, and he knocked on my bedroom door at, shall we say, aninopportune moment last night. The girl—let’s call her Macy because I like that name and I can’t recall her real name—shot up like she’d been hit with a jumper cable.

“Jesus. What?” I called, annoyed.

“Hey man, a minute,” John said on the other side of the door.

I glanced at Macy, who was mostly undressed but looked like she might bolt. “Don’t move.” I put one finger on her sternum and pushed her slowly back down, smiling. “It’s just my dumbass friend. I’ll be right back.”

I padded across the small room, shirtless, jeans unzipped, and cracked open the door. “What the hell do you want, man? I know you had more condoms that you could use in a week.”

“My dad just called. I, uh, have to be home tomorrow.”

“And?”

“On a ten a.m. flight.”

“What? Why?” I shook my head. “Nevermind. I’ll text Jeff—God knows I’m not disturbing him right now. He’d kick your ass, only because he’s not allowed to kick mine.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda why I didn’t knock on his door…”

“I’ll handle it. Now leave me the hell alone the rest of the night. Seriously.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry, man. Thanks.”

“Whatever.” I shut the door with a snap, locked it and turned, grabbing my phone from the rickety dresser and tapping a message to Jeff, Tadd and Quinton as I walked towards the bed, staring at Macy. “Where were we?”

***

There’s a flurry of activity this morning to get out of here before eight. Macy’s just been coaxed into one of three taxis, looking severely hungover and pouting that I’m leaving. There’s no reason to tell her that my leaving has nothing to do with putting her in a taxi this morning. No offense to hot girls everywhere—but newsflash—there are hot girls everywhere. I don’t do seconds.

I’m not including Emma with that—she’s not a one-nighter. I assume she’ll keep me happily occupied for the duration of filming. Maybe longer, who knows. If you mess around with costars, there’s generally an assumption of being a couple, at least temporarily. I don’t believe in love, and even though my parents have been married forever, I don’t believe in marriage either. They just exist and rotate around each other’s lives. There’s no emotional relationship there. It’s a social, fiscal relationship. That’s not for me and never will be.

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