“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re nineteen.”
“Twenty in two weeks,” I pointed out. I wasn’t sure if she remembered so maybe this would serve as a reminder for her not to miss out on my birthday. When we disconnected seconds later, I pushed my hair out of my face and gave Miller an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. My mom is . . .”
Scratching the center of his close-cropped hair, he chuckled. “You don’t have to tell me, I’ve got one too.” We sat there for nearly a minute, in one of those awkward silences, and then Miller said, “So you’re ready to go?”
“What?”
He frowned for a moment, checked his phone’s screen, and then answered. “You said you were doing community service this afternoon, right?”
Fuck.
Of course I’d told him that yesterday afternoon, before I’d changed my mind about going to Cooper’s party. “I’ve got shit for brains today,” explained.
He flushed and looked down, and then I groaned, because he knew exactly where I’d gone last night.
“I’m just going to go die now,” I murmured before skulking back to my bedroom to throw on some old clothes.
Miller was good enough not to say anything about Cooper, but when we arrived at the shelter he took a deep breath. “I know that I’m just the guy hired to watch out for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you give me that you suck at your job thing, I’ll cut you.”
He laughed. “Oh, don’t worry; I’m on high alert when it comes to you right now.” I lifted an eyebrow, and he added, “I like to think you won’t need me, but people are . . . crazy.”
I buried my face into my hands. “Don’t remind me.”
“But what I was going to say,” Miller said, steering the conversation back on track, “is to be careful. I’ve told you this before, but you remind me of my little sister and I don’t want to see you hurt.”
It took me a second to realize he wasn’t talking about the paparazzi or getting knocked in the face on set with a surfboard. He was blatantly referring to the thing I had going on with Cooper. Whatever the hell that was. I dragged my hands away from my face and smoothed back my hair.
How did I even respond to what he just said?
On one hand, Miller was someone hired to work for me. If my old bodyguard had warned me about a guy I was sleeping with I would have flipped out on him and fired him on the spot. But on the other hand, Miller wasn’t my old bodyguard. He was the man who’d taken me to the lamest amusement park ever when I was alone. He’d sat with me after I had a nightmare.
So, I told him what I would tell any of my friends if they gave me non-shitty advice. “Thanks for the heads up, Miller.”
“And now you’re going to fire me.”
Shaking my head, I climbed out of the Kia. I turned to face him, supporting myself by holding on to the edge of the door and the hood of the car. “Nope. I’m trying to keep from hugging you for giving a f**k.”
All these feelings today—they were going to be the undoing of me.
Chapter Fourteen
“Skye from Las Vegas asks ‘Willow, how did you feel when you learned you were cast in the reboot of the movie?” the moderator asked.
Like if I didn’t take the role, I’d never work again, I thought.
I cast a glittering smile in his direction and lifted my microphone to my mouth. “Excited and—don’t laugh at me, guys—but terrified. I’m not sure if you’ve ever carried a surfboard but”—I sighed and rubbed my forehead for dramatic effect—“it really, really hurts when it knocks you in the head.” The crowd of fans lined up in front of the outdoor stage rolled with laughter and hundreds of camera phones flashed simultaneously.
“But really, I can’t wait because this cast is amazing and the script is so incredible. I can’t wait to get to work on such a kickass movie,” I said.
How many more adjectives could I use this morning without making myself sound like an idiot?
We were twenty minutes into the beachfront press conference and for the last ten of them, Justin Davies, my leading man, had kept trying to touch my thigh beneath the table. Once again, I leaned close to him, keeping my smile plastered on my face and muttered, “It would be a shame if I break your f**king nose with a surfboard when we start shooting tomorrow.”
He skimmed the back of his hand across my cheek and the flashing cameras went berserk.
Asshole.
“Uh oh, is there more than an on screen romance blooming between Justin and Willow?” the moderator asked the fans, and they cheered wildly.
I twisted Justin’s fingers tightly in mine, and he winked a hazel eye at me.
Once the crowd died down, the moderator said, “Mitchell from Greenville, Texas asks ‘how are you training for your role’? We’ll start with Justin.”
I nearly rolled my eyes when Justin tilted his dreadlocked head to the side (he’d told me shortly after we met that there were fan pages dedicated to his hair), stared confidently into the crowd, and said, “If you’ve seen the original you know of course that Chad is a photographer. James Dickson and I thought it would be interesting if we added a little twist to the storyline and put me out there with Willow.”
I kept the surprise out of my face when I turned to look at him. Had he trained with Cooper too? As if to answer my question, Justin winked and said, “I’d done a little surfing when I was a teenager, so it was easy to jump back in. By the way, let’s give it up for Willow Avery. She’s gorgeous today isn’t she?”