Chapter 18 Justin
Justin
I bounce down the stairs like a kid ready to open presents on Christmas. Do I know Doc’s my bodyguard? Yes, of course. Has she given me any indication she’s into me? Not even a little. Am I excited as fuck about going out with her tonight? Definitely.
This will make me sound like an arrogant ass but hear me out.
I know I could get most women I want. I’m an actor for God’s sake.
I’ve modeled. I work out like I’m a hostage and gym time’s the only condition of my release.
I’m hit on, slipped numbers, someone else slips me numbers of their friends, I’ve been propositioned for blow jobs in the studio, on set, in bathrooms. I get it.
I’m not unique in this business. It’s just reality.
But I rarely act on it. Sure, if you believe everything you see online, it looks like I’ve been attached to half of Hollywood. But here’s a news flash – most of the time it’s fake. The ‘relationships’ are usually a PR stunt to garner publicity for whatever we’re filming.
So, I’m damn near elated that I’m going out tonight with a woman I’ve spent almost two months with, five days a week, twelve hours a day, and finally get to see her out of her element – at a club, socializing, surrounded by music and low lights. Not in a stuffy studio, a grocery store, or my house.
Once I reach the bottom of the stairs, Doc’s serious furrowed brow as she types into the laptop is clear from across the room. I breathe out my excitement for tonight and try to keep my voice casual. ‘What are you doing?’
Her frown disappears when she sees me. ‘Double-checking various routes to the club, reviewing alternative courses and planning an exit strategy. It’s the same methodology I use working with high-profile principals.’
I swallow back my sarcasm. I’m not making light of the situation, and am growing to love Doc being here, but this is overkill.
Every actor in the world who’s made a few films has intense fans.
I’m not any different. ‘You’re officially making me feel special.
It’s hitting me right here.’ I tap my heart.
She groans and closes her laptop. ‘Here’s a dirty little secret – sometimes my job is boring as hell. Planning routes, thinking of worst-case scenarios and scoping out the club’s blueprints is the lifeline I need so I don’t keel over.’
I think she just insulted me, but she smiled when she spoke, so basically she can get away with anything. Because that smile … my God, she doesn’t do it often. But when she does, it makes me think things I should not be thinking.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. When I pull it out and see my mom’s name attached to a message on the screen, my smile drops.
Mom: I am growing very tired of you not responding to my messages. I’d hate to create a scene to get my own son to pay attention to me.
‘Justin?’
I glance up to Doc’s stern, creased eyes and shove my phone back in my pocket.
‘You are totally allowed to have a private life and talk to whomever you want,’ she says. ‘But if you’re getting harassing phone calls or messages, you know you need to tell me, right?’
Does getting harassed by my mother count? Her calls, messages and emails are increasing. And although I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t do anything too crazy, part of me can’t help wondering how far she’ll go to get me to respond.
I’m not letting anyone ruin tonight for me. My unstable mother, included. I exhale the tightness in my chest and push out a smile that I’m sure Doc will know is fake. ‘Ah, we’re good. Someone’s challenging me to a dance-off tonight, and I take my reigning championship very seriously.’
Before she can respond, the driveway alarm pulls our attention away, and a moment later, Conner stomps through the door and gives me a one-armed bro slap. It only takes him a second to turn his attention to Doc. ‘Hey, Doc.’
She nods.
‘Are you as stoked as me for this weekend? Dancing tonight. Sunday, football.’ Conner tosses his phone and keys on the side table and flops on the couch. ‘You’re gonna watch the game with us, right?’
A sticky heat flickers in my chest. Am I really that guy?
I’m not. I promise I’m not. But I hate that Conner even acknowledges Doc.
It’s not jealousy. I mean, a little, but not really.
But my stomach knots when he’s around her and an innate urge to block her from him kicks in.
It’s not logical. I know. But it still happens.
She barely lifts her eyes from the laptop, and this makes me happier than it should. ‘Who’s playing?’ she asks.
‘Vikings versus Packers. Packers are gonna kick the Vikings’ ass.’
‘No chance.’ Doc shuts her laptop and folds her arms across her chest. ‘Vikings all the way. I can’t believe my dad didn’t text me. He bleeds purple.’
Conner looks at me and back at Doc. ‘You from Minnesota?’
‘Didn’t I tell you that?’ I say, grabbing a handful of snacks from the table. I know I didn’t tell him that, because I knew exactly what he’d do. Midwesterners have a weird bond, and he’d latch on to their shared geography.
‘Nah, I would’ve remembered.’ Conner cracks open a Coke and slurps the fizz. ‘I’m from Wisconsin.’
‘No way. Which part?’ she says with a huge, definite spark that I rarely see. Apparently mundane escape route preparation can wait. Bonding over humidity, freezing lakes and cheese curds is clearly taking precedence. I swallow back how ridiculous I feel and reach for another handful of snacks.
Conner rests his forearm against the back of the couch. ‘North of Milwaukee. You?’
‘About four hours north of Minneapolis.’ She’s damn near glowing. I know her sweet spot is talking about her family and hometown. But now Conner knows it. Let it go. ‘Did you come here as a kid?’ she asks.
‘Nah. Just when I got recruited to play at USC,’ he says. ‘Been here ever since. Once I got used to the weather, I couldn’t go back home.’
And here it goes. Next up, food bonding.
‘What, snowplows, mosquitos and tornados no longer good enough for you?’ She grins. I don’t like that she’s grinning. I want her grinning at me. Only me.
Holy shit, I am that guy.
‘Did you trade in tater tot hotdish for sashimi?’ she asks.
‘Hotdish! Damn. I haven’t had that in so long.’ Conner slaps his hand against his heart. ‘Now I’m craving it.’
I lean on my elbow and force a smile. ‘What the hell is tater tot hotdish?’
‘You California natives have no idea what you’re missing.’ Doc slides her laptop into her backpack. ‘It’s the best comfort food in the world. Ground beef, cream of mushroom soup, sour cream, whatever veggies you have, throw it all together, top it with tater tots. Heaven in your mouth.’
‘Would you ever put shredded cheese on top?’ Conner has now shifted completely to face her, and my shirt collar feels like a noose. ‘Just to level it up?’
‘Hell yes, if we had it around,’ she says. ‘Guess I know what I’m making for dinner on my nights off this week.’
‘I think you better toss me your address, Doc. I’ll come over.
Maybe bring lefse and bars.’ Conner says it like a joke, but he’s not joking.
What the fuck? Should I say something? Warn Doc to stay away from him?
Warn Conner to stay away from her? My face burns.
I’ve known Conner since I was eighteen and he’s absolutely fucked his way through half of LA by now.
The last thing I need is Doc falling victim to his bullshit good old boy facade.
But Doc’s an adult and can do whatever the hell she wants. This burrows into me like a snake bite. I toss the couch pillow in a huff. ‘I’ll be at the pool.’
Both Doc and Conner immediately stop talking. Good. God, I’m a dick. But still, good. Behind me, Conner clears his throat.
‘I’ll join you,’ he says. ‘Doc, you coming?’
I’m almost out of the room, but freeze. I don’t want her out there. I mean, I do, but I don’t. I absolutely cannot witness those two bonding after meeting once, when I’ve tried to bond for two months.
‘Not in the job description,’ she says, and I exhale a tight breath.
Outside, a breeze cools my heated face. I’m acting like a jealous boyfriend, and it’s ridiculous. Jesus, maybe Zane is right and I need to get back out there and date. Dating’s miserable, but I’d at least entertained the idea. Before Doc. But now, I don’t want to be with anyone.
Anyone else …
Christ. Enough. Not that I want to be with Doc.
Or maybe I do. Shit. I mean, I don’t let myself go there, but being around her, now at least, is easy.
Comforting. Not in the sense of physical safety, but she sees me, who I am.
She’s witnessed the true Justin Greenwood, all my skeletons, my best and worst parts, my quiet and my loud, and she’s still here.
My mother couldn’t stand to see the real me.
Neither could my father. And yet, Doc stays.
Yes, this is her job, but I think it’s more to her. It’s certainly more for me.
I open the umbrella on the patio table as Conner slinks into the chair at the opposite side. ‘Dude, how do you not hit that every time she’s here?’ He links his hands behind his neck and taps the back of his head with his thumbs. ‘I’d be going wild, for real. She’s hella hot.’
‘Seriously, man, show some respect,’ I snap. ‘She’s my bodyguard.’
‘Christ, relax.’ He drops his hands and reaches for his soda. ‘I’m not trying to be disrespectful. I’m just saying that she really is beautiful. Kind of seems like she’d be up your alley.’
I pull my baseball hat further down my face. Conner is the very last person I want to talk with about Doc. ‘I honestly haven’t paid attention to her looks. She works for me, you know? That’s it.’
He smirks, and I know he can see right through my bullshit. ‘Whatever.’
‘What?’ I tilt back under the shade and close my eyes. I’m done with this conversation, and if Conner keeps prodding, I’m going to lose my shit. ‘I don’t even think of Doc like that. She’s not my type.’
Even muttering those words steals my breath.
Not my type? She’s exactly my type. I just need Conner to shut the hell up.
Which he did, thank Christ. But it’s not like I can tell Doc how I feel.
Even if I did, she’d turn me down, nicely of course, and then it’d be awkward as hell for the rest of her contract.
But the more I sit here and stare into the pool waterfall, the more things become clear.
Trying to get closer to Doc with a game of one-on-one wasn’t enough. I have to do something. I just need to decide what.