Keep (Seaside Pictures Book 2) Page 2

  “Oh.” She licked her lips. Damn it. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

  “You too.”

  I watched her walk off, and felt a little tug, as if I wanted to keep talking to her. But I had no reason to.

  I glanced down at the chapstick in my hand. “Hey, Fallon?”

  “Yeah?” She turned around quickly, like she’d expected me to stop her, which had my blood pumping harder, faster. She really was pretty, if you looked past the glasses. Then again that was hard to do, considering they were so big on her face.

  I tossed her my phone. “I need my dealer’s number.”

  “Dealer?” She barely managed to catch the phone, thank God she did since it was the third one I’d had in two weeks.

  I held up the chapstick. “Your number, Fallon. Just in case I run out.”

  “Because you don’t go to the store,” she said, eyes narrowing.

  “You make home deliveries right?”

  “If you buy enough,” she grumbled then typed in her number and tossed it back underhand pitch style. “There you go.”

  “How much is enough?” I called out as she turned the corner.

  But she didn’t answer.

  And when I looked down at the phone, it wasn’t her number, but the one to the local Dominoes. I only knew because I had pizza every Friday, and Seaside had officially one pizza place.

  “Damn it.” I ran after her, but she was gone, lost in a crowd I didn’t want to deal with because I hated crowds.

  So I disappeared back into the alley and made my way home.

  Home.

  Hah, not really.

  More like, made my way back to Jamie Jaymeson’s house.

  Because home?

  Yeah, I hadn’t had one of those in a really long time.

  And most nights, when I was being completely honest with myself, I admitted that I never would.

  Not in the way that counted.

  And probably not ever.

  I hated the harshness of reality as it crashed in perfect cadence with the waves across the sand. Having a home had never been about having a safe place—it had been about the feeling being safe brings you.

  Sometimes school was home.

  Sometimes the tree house was home.

  But when the safety nets get ripped away, you realize, home is nothing, without the people that make it that way.

  And that’s what I was missing.

  The key part of my life.

  A family.

  Chapter Three

  Zane

  “PANTS.” JAYMESON EYED ME up and down wearily. “Blokes wear pants.”

  “It’s too early to use the word ‘bloke.’” I muttered, slapping his ass as I walked past him to grab a cup of much-needed coffee.

  With a grunt, he placed his hands on the counter and moved his lips like he was praying.

  “Jay?”

  “Shhh.”

  “Jay?”

  “I’m counting to ten, so I don’t blow your bloody head off.”

  “America!” I shouted. “Fun fact: did you know your accent’s really thick in the morning? Almost impossible to decipher if you’re actually speaking English or something else.”

  Jaymeson pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m suddenly remembering why I hesitated before saying yes, yes Zane I’d love to have you come stay with me and my new wife. You need a room? A bed to sleep in? A roof to cover your head? Hell, take my bloody dog while you’re at it! Oh, what’s that? You want to steal my friends too? Be my guest.”

  With a grin, I sat on the barstool and sipped the hot, bitter liquid. “You done yet?”

  “Yes.” He frowned. “Maybe.” A shrug. “I think I have more anger inside.”

  “Sex cures anger.”

  “So does shooting things,” he fired back, finally grabbing his coffee and slamming the newspaper against the granite counter top before dropping it.

  “Tsk tsk, need I remind you who my cousin is?” I teased.

  “Oh, dear God, not this again!” He held one hand up stop sign style as if to prevent me from talking “Please spare me the story of your Italian mafia connected family. That’s complete shite and you know it.”

  “Fine.” I sighed. “Just don’t get pissed when I call in a favor and a sleek black Mercedes pulls up to the curb and a man in a suit tells you to get in.”

  “You watch too many movies.”

  “This from an A-list actor and movie director?”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “They’ll put you on ice.”

  “The Godfather was on HBO last night again wasn’t it?”

  “Hey Vin, we got a problem…” I said using my best Italian Mafioso voice, then rubbed my chin. “We go to the mattresses.”

  Jay stared at me, hard. “Sure you don’t want to be in my next movie?”

  “And have more fangirls chasing me around while I hide out on a carousel next to a unicorn that just so happens to hump my leg every time it comes down? Hell, no.”

  “One instance.”

  “It was enough.“ And then I added, “It had pink sparkles. Do you have any idea what that does to a man?”

  “Come on.” Oh, I knew that look. Gone was my teasing friend. Now he was all business; then again, he had good reason. He was one of Hollywood’s hottest action stars, had married a local girl from Seaside, cast her in his last movie and basically solidified himself as one of the freshest directors of the decade. And he had no trouble at all trying to convince every pretty face around him to hop on the train, including our mutual friends AD2.

  It was bad enough that I was helping with the soundtrack to the next movie while still trying to finish my own album.

  Knowing Jaymeson was basically like knowing every single hot name in the industry. What was even weirder was that for the most part, we all knew each other, and we were all friends.

  “Think about it.” Jay rapped his knuckles against the counter top. “I mean at least it would get you out of the dark.”

  “No thanks.” I cut him off, irritated that he’d pulled that card, angry that he’d use my own weakness against me.

  When I looked up, I wanted to toss him on his ass and slam my fist into his face.

  It was pity.

  Always the pity with Jaymeson.

  Like I was some wounded-ass bird that needed to be kept in a box.

  He was the only one who knew what haunted me.

  Because he was the only friend I’d ever really had.

  Which was pathetic, all things considered.

  I’d met him when I was just starting out in the industry, and when it became too much, when I wanted to end it all, he helped me through it.

  Damn him.

  “I’ll think about it.” I found myself saying quietly, maybe more to myself than to him. “Just stop pressuring me about shit.”

  “Jay!” Pris’ voice interrupted our tense stare down. “Stop picking on our house guest.”

  I puffed out my chest. “Yes, stop picking on me.”

  “Oh…crap.” Pris stumbled behind me then ran out of the room.

  I took a swig of coffee. “She just now noticed I’m naked?”

  “Yup.” Jay looked out toward the window. “Looks like it’s going to be a nice day today.”

  “Really sunny.” I agreed.

  Dani, Pris’ sister, marched into the room and tossed a pair of sweatpants at my face, nearly knocking over my coffee in the process. “PEOPLE WEAR PANTS!”

  She turned, grabbed a cup of coffee from the pot, and then gave me a sweet smile.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Remember the good old days when you were mute? God, I miss those.”

  She stuck out her tongue while Jay’s eyes widened in horror.

  “Oh, please.” I snickered. “She can take it. And just say no to pants, Dani.”

  Her eyebrow arched as she turned around and went into the pantry. My palms started to sweat as she returned with both bags of jumbo marshmallows.

  “Dani,�
�� I warned.

  She tore open the bags and held both over the garbage disposal. “What was that, Zane?”

  “You’re pretty?”

  “Hell yeah, she is,” Linc said as he sleepily wandered into the room.

  “Bloody hell!” Jaymeson roared. “How do you keep getting in! I lock things!”

  “Magic.” He winked. “Right Dani?”

  Jay plugged his ears while Dani and I continued our stare down.

  “Fine.” I sighed and pulled the pants on. “Happy?”

  “I think I speak for all of us when I say yes.” She popped a mallow into her mouth.

  “Hand over the goods.” I held out my hand, the one that wasn’t shaking, the one that wasn’t freaking the hell out.

  With great care, she placed both of the bags in front of me and smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t have done it.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “Swear.”

  “Lies.”

  “Murder is murder, Saint.”

  “Saint! Saint! Saint!” I chanted then offered an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, just reliving the glory days.”

  Linc slapped me on the back of the head. “You wouldn’t have to if you would finish your damn album.”

  “What is this?” I threw my hands up into the air. “A man can’t be naked? The way God made him? I go from waking up perfectly happy, to being blackmailed into doing Jay’s next movie, and nearly witnessing the murder of my girlfriends!”

  “Girlfriends?” Jay repeated in a confused tone.

  “My precious.” I held up the marshmallows while he bit off a curse and walked away, giving the impression he was done dealing with my bullshit.

  Linc stared me down like I was a science experiment he needed to figure out. “Zane, you need to get out.”

  “I don’t need a mom.”

  “You can’t even iron a shirt,” Dani pointed out. “Not that Linc can either but…”

  “Hey!” he yelled, shooting her a hard stare.

  “Spoiled Hollywood stars.” She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “At least Alec and Demetri know how to do laundry.”

  Bringing up AD2, the dudes I had to record with in—I checked the kitchen clock—an hour, was not the way I wanted to start my day.

  Because while they were super excited about the project, I was suffering from serious writer’s block.

  And really just wanted to go back to bed.

  Holy shit, maybe I was depressed.

  I just felt…empty.

  For no reason.

  Well, I mean, there was a reason, but it was stupid.

  Like everything else.

  Linc elbowed me in the side. “It’s a small part. He needs you to play a really small part. It’ll get you out of the house.”

  “I think I’d rather drink acid.”

  “People take it, they don’t drink it.” Dani said, eavesdropping on our conversation.

  “Seriously?” I thumbed in her direction. “She’s only eighteen, Linc! Stop teaching her shit she shouldn’t know.”

  “Oh right, because out of all the Hollywood people she knows, I’m the bad influence?” His eyebrows rose while Dani coughed and pointed at me.

  “PLEASE!” I yelled. “I’m the least offensive out of all of you! Alec and Demetri were drug addicts, they could have been tried for homicide!” A while ago they had come to Seaside Oregon to get away from the press. What was supposed to be a short vacation had ended up making Seaside the new Hollywood hot spot. They married local girls, became even more famous, Jaymeson followed out of pure curiosity and married the pastor’s daughter! See, another scandal! And Dani had nearly died in a car wreck leaving her a selective mute until Linc saved her or whatever. It was all bullshit.

  I was the least dramatic out of all of them! I didn’t even drink!

  “Thanks, man.” A deep voice sounded from the door. “Always fun when people talk about you behind your back.” Alec waltzed right past me, grabbed a coffee mug from the tree on the counter, and filled it from the pot.

  “Technically, I’m in front of your back, second, is there a coffee shortage? Why is everyone here? And Linc, honest moment, how the hell do you get in the house every night?”

  “It’s a mystery.” He grinned.

  “Hey! You’re wearing clothes!” Demetri sauntered in a few minutes later and held up his hand for a high five. I hit it. I liked Demetri. He didn’t take life too seriously, and he was always laughing.

  When he wasn’t mauling his wife.

  Which was at least ninety percent of the time.

  I let my head fall against the countertop. “Clothes are like bondage.”

  “Don’t knock it until you try it,” Alec said quietly.

  Demetri choked out a curse then started gagging. “Please don’t talk about my sister-in-law like that—I saw Fifty Shades. I know how it ends, Gray.”

  “We don’t have time to reenact Fifty, guys,” Jay was dressed and ready to go for the day. “We have to be on set in ten, and you three”—he pointed at me, Alec, and Demetri—“go to the studio. Write gold. Make it award worthy.”

  I had the sudden need to shrink into my seat.

  “Only if he puts on a shirt.” Demetri pointed at me. “I find his nakedness offensive.”

  I snorted. “More like you find my six-pack offensive. Most guys do.”

  “Dude.” He lifted his shirt.

  “Oh goodie, a pissing match.” Linc looked heavenward.

  “There’s too much testosterone.” Dani yelled while Pris came into the room and rolled her eyes.

  Pris and Dani linked arms.

  “You know what we need?” Dani said to the room.

  All talking ceased.

  She grinned in my direction. “A girl to even the odds. You’re the last man standing, Zane…”

  “No.” I shook my head vehemently. “No. Hell. NO.”

  “Blind dates!” Demetri shouted. “We could film it and—”

  “No!” I roared. “I’m not going on blind dates, are you guys insane? I’ve been knifed before! By a fan! With a real knife!”

  “She wanted to make a blood sacrifice,” Jay whispered and shivered.

  “Oh, look at the time.” I stood. “I’ll just grab that shirt.” I tried not to sulk as I went into the room that wasn’t really mine and grabbed the first shirt closest to me.

  “Hey…” Dani’s soft voice floated into the room.

  I hesitated, then put the shirt over my shoulders and turned, pulling it down. “Hey, yourself.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I pressed my lips together and stared out the window, gathering my thoughts. “For?”

  “Pressuring you.” I sensed her walking over to me and then felt her hand on my shoulder. “I just…I worry about you, that’s all.”

  “You and everyone else in this dysfunctional group of crazy.” I hung my head. “But, Dani, I’m fine.”

  “You’re lonely.”

  I frowned. “No offense, but you’ve known me two months, Dani.”

  “Doesn’t matter though, does it?” She bit down on her lip and then crossed her arms. “Because truth is truth.”

  “Yeah.” My voice cracked. “Truth is truth.”

  “Just…think about branching out…maybe actually going out to dinner once a week instead of holing up in the house with the lights off and windows locked.”

  I smirked. “You make me sound crazy.”

  “I found you with a half-eaten bag of marshmallows two nights ago, you were spooning one bag and moaning.”

  “To each his own, Dani girl.” I winked.

  “I’m terrified for the girl you end up with.”

  “What? Why would you say that?”

  “You’re a virgin, and you’re the most sexually charged dude I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

  I froze. Because ever since that conversation a few months ago where I’d confessed one of my dirty little secrets, we hadn’t discussed it.

  “Yeah, well…” Why
was I embarrassed? No, wait…that feeling wasn’t embarrassment, it was…confusion. “I’ll be sure to take it easy on her.”

  “You walk around naked twenty-four seven. That’s hardly taking it easy on us, and we’re your friends.”

  “You’re welcome?” I offered, then pulled her in for a tight hug. “Okay serious Full House talk is over, the music stopped playing, we hugged, and I’ve learned my lesson. Time for work.”

  “Wait!” Dani laughed. “Am I DJ?”

  “Eh, you’re more annoying.” I shrugged and then patted her head. “Like Michelle.”

  “Which makes you?”

  “Aw, sweetheart…It should be obvious. I’m Uncle Jesse.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “Come on, give Uncle Jesse a hug.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Love you too, Dani.”

  Chapter Four

  Fallon

  “STOP SCREAMING!” I HUSHED Maggie with my hand. “You’re going to attract attention…people…Seagulls!”

  She jerked away from me, her expression one of complete exasperation. “What is with you and birds?”

  “Never mind!” I shivered and shoved my hands in my jean pockets. What had possessed me to tell her about meeting Zane? No idea. Maybe it was the fact that I was a horrible liar, and when she saw the scratch on my glasses she started asking questions. Had I run into a tree? Gotten hit by a car? Tripped over my own feet? Okay, fine so all of the above have at least happened to me once, in my life, but that wasn’t the point.

  The point was, when I opened my mouth, I wasn’t fast enough with my lie, and Maggie had known me since we were in first grade, meaning she saw right through me.

  “Was he hot?”

  “He was shirtless.” I swallowed past the constant dryness in my throat, the dryness that had been there since yesterday when Zane stole my chapstick and asked me to make a house call.

  “You’re blushing!” She pointed and laughed. Why were we best friends again? “I can’t believe it! The last time you blushed was in fifth grade when Jason asked if you wanted to partner with him on a book report.”

  “Bastard did absolutely no work! You know I have no tolerance for group projects.” I kicked a rock with my shoe and crossed my arms as the wind from the beach picked up, tossing my wavy hair into my face, and of course, getting caught in my chapstick.