Forcing Gravity by Monica Alexander Page B

didn’t know.”
    “Yeah, I know that,” he said, and it didn’t come across the least bit cocky. He was almost more annoyed by it. I watched his gaze go toward the beach where we both knew the paparazzi lay in wait, even if we couldn’t see them. “I just didn’t think you did.”
    “Who did you think I thought you were?”
    “Just some random actor guy. I don’t know.”
    “Who looks like just Jason Brady and is afraid of the paparazzi ? Come on,” I said, giggling just a little.
    He threw his hands up in aggravat ion, which I thought was sweet . He actually thought he could go out without a hat or sunglasses or any other disguise, and he wouldn’t be recognized. Right.
    “You’re adorable – and hilarious,” I pointed out, laughing a little harder.
    “But you didn’t throw yourself at me,” he said, the questioning air in his tone apparent.
    “Is that what usually happens when you meet girls ?”
    I wondered what that would be like. I knew Garrett’s lust factor had gone up ten-fold since he’d become famous, but he was nowhere near the status level that Jase was at. Jase could probably have any girl he wanted, and yet, with a house full of them downstairs, he was hiding upstairs with me.
    “Yes!” he said, exasperated. “All the time!”
    “Okay, well, sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to do that. I promise, next time we meet, I’ll gush and scream and pull on your shirt in an effort to get a piece to take home and put in my Jason Brady scrapbook.”
    Jase paused , as if he was about to say something and then changed his mind. T hen he thre w his head back and started to laugh hysterically until he was full-on clutching his stomach and practically falling over he was laughing so hard.
    I just watched him with amusement, loving that he was letting loose in front of me, a proverbial stranger.
    “Glad I could amuse you,” I finally said, as he started to recover and right himself.
    “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I just heard what I said and what I assumed, and I realized I’m a fucking moron .”
    “ No you’re not. I understand,” I said. “I mean I’d hate it if guys were throwing themselves at me whenever I met them. I get it.”
    “Yeah, but how pretentious of me to assume that you would do that just because you recognized me . Geez, I’m a little bit of a dick, I guess.”
    “You’re not a dick. You actually seem like a really nice guy.”
    “Really?”
    He seemed so appalled that I would think that.
    “Yeah,” I told him, catching his laser gaze that had suddenly dialed in on me.
    His eyes lit up, and I realized he’d moved a few inches closer. Before I knew what he was doing, he reached out and took my hand, taking me by surprise.
    “Thank you,” he said softly, all traces of laughter gone from his voice.
    “For what?” I asked just as softly, my voice almost getting lost in the feeling that stemmed from the warmth of his hand , all the way up my arm, making my head a little fuzzy.
    “For reminding me of what a conversation with someone who doesn’t have elevated expectations of me can be like.”
    I pulled back and appraised him, feeling the need to lighten things up again. They’d suddenly gotten a little intense.
    “Oh, I have elevated expectations of you,” I teased. “Don’t get me wrong.”
    “No , you don’t,” he said, all confidence at that point.
    He was slowly moving toward me, and I realized that Jason Brady, the famous Jason Brady, with the most perfect lips, was abou t to kiss me. And as soon as those perfect lips met mine, it was like electric sparks shot between his mouth and mine and jetted right down to my stomach and beyond , ma king me never want to break the kiss .
    Fireworks went off between us, as his hand moved from mine to around my waist, and he pulled me closer to him. My body was on fire where he touched it, and my heart pounded in my chest. I was sure he could hear it. His lips were so soft