To Love Jason Thorn (Page 43)

“Well,” Olive muttered, wincing slightly.

Megan’s voice was harsh—harsher than I would allow her to use when speaking to Olive—when she asked, “Who did you tell?”

“Megan,” I said in low voice, silencing her.

“I mentioned it to Lucy, but I swear she won’t tell a soul, Jason,” Olive rushed to say, her eyes focused somewhere over my shoulder.

I ducked a little and caught her eyes. “It’s okay, little one. I trust you, and if you trust her…” I shrugged. “It’s done, Megan. So move on.”

By the time we left Megan’s office after going over a few more details of how we should act in public, both Olive and I were pretty much brain dead.

“Wow…” Olive breathed out once we were sitting in the car and just staring out the windshield. I didn’t even attempt to start the car. “Who knew I had to be careful about so many things. I mean, come on, was she really serious about me looking a little too long at any other actors? Or the part—which was my favorite part, by the way—where she said I’d have to discourage you if you wanted to have a quickie in London?”

“I’m afraid she was very much serious. Also, my favorite part was about you looking at me—oh sorry, not looking”—I watched her out of the corner of my eye as I continued—“gazing at me adoringly in the photos. You think you can look at me adoringly, little one? I wouldn’t mind working on it.”

“How thoughtful of you my soon-to-be-hubby.”

“Ah,” I groaned and closed my eyes. “Call me anything but hubby. For some reason, I hate that word. Hubby, hubster…” I shook my head. “Just no. Call me husband,” I said in a husky voice before I noticed what I was saying.

She chuckled. “Fine, I’ll find another pet name. How about myyyy… Well, looks like I lost a few brain cells in there, can’t think of anything right now. I’ll come up with something, don’t worry.”

I smiled to myself. “Can’t wait to hear it, sweetheart.” That was definitely something I would look forward too.

“Are you ready to back out yet?” I asked mildly as we silently watched a few guys point and whistle at my Spyder as they walked past.

She twisted in her seat to face me. “I said yes, Jason. I want to help; I won’t back out. But if you change your mind…”

“No,” I replied after a brief pause, and then I let my head drop back on the headrest. “You’re still the only girl I want to get fake married to.”

She gave a short, amused laugh and rested her temple against the headrest. “Yay?”

I turned my head to find her studying me. A second later, I was tugging her hair, stealing another sincere smile from her.

“In a few weeks, it’ll all die down, don’t worry,” I reassured her. “And it won’t be all bad, I promise.”

“I’m not worried. Not exactly. I mean, it’s probably every girl’s wish to get married to you these days. Fake or not, it’ll be…something. So, no, I’m not worried. But I think you should be.”

“Why?”

“Well, if we can’t tell anyone about this,” she shrugged, her lips kicking up at the corners. “I’m not going to be the one who tells my parents I got married so hastily. If I have to lie, so do you.”

Now it was my turn to wince. “I think I can charm your mom and dad, but Dylan… Yeah, I’m not looking forward to that talk.”

Closing her eyes, she faced forward again. “So, we are getting married right after we get back from London. It’s going to be a quick thing at your home. No friends, no nothing. That night, I move in with you, and when the filming starts for Soul Ache, I’m to accompany you to the movie set for the first few days so they can get more candid shots of us and essentially start promoting the movie right when the filming starts.”

“That pretty much sums it up,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes.

“You’re not Isaac and I’m…not Evie, they get that though, right?” she asked a little hesitantly when I started the car.

“In their eyes, we will be whoever they want us to be, little one.”

Chapter Twenty

Jason

Do you know what happens after you start acting like you’re in love with a girl? Or, hell, forget about being in love, do you know what happens when you act like you’re dating each other? Falling for each other? No?

Let me tell you what happens: you start to get lost in your own fucking game. You begin to think you’re actually dating each other. What the fuck are you supposed to think when you’re holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes, laughing, and just fucking enjoying your life?

Only, it is a special kind of hell where you can’t reap the benefits of dating as you would if you were actually fucking dating.

The days after our meeting with Megan passed in a flurry of activity. As much as I hated seeing myself on every media outlet out there, I couldn’t deny the fact that I didn’t mind it that much when Olive was in the same shot with me. After looking at so many damn photos of the two of us together, laughing, smiling, and holding hands—always holding hands—I could see what Tom and Megan had initially seen.

We looked good together.

Happy.

I was afraid I was starting to believe in the lie we had so meticulously created. I was starting to believe that Olive belonged with me and only me.

Late night movie date?

Check.

Shopping at the farmers’ market?

Check.

Coffee date?

Check.

Lunch date?

Check.

Dinner date?

Check.

We were following Megan’s instructions to a T, and as we went through her list one by one, we had a whole crew of paparazzi following us everywhere—and when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. They all seemed to have forgotten about my sexcapades and chose to focus on our new love instead. Judging by all the articles and videos everyone kept posting, people were loving it. Everyone who read Olive’s book—which was a large number of people—were rooting for Olive to win my heart. They all liked the idea of their troubled movie star falling for an ordinary, girl-next-door type.

What they didn’t know was that Olive was nothing short of extraordinary.

***

After a long flight to London, we finally made it to our hotel room. “Is this our room? Or should I say palace?” Olive asked after turning in a circle and taking everything in.

“High ceilings, big windows, two freaking balconies.”

I chuckled. “I take it you approve.”

“I definitely approve. I’m very happy that you’re picking up the bill, though.”

Keeping my eyes up and away from her ass, I trailed after her and listened to her comments about every room in the suite.

“Jason!” she gasped once she reached the main bathroom. She looked over her shoulder to make sure I was following her. Not so fortunately for me, she had it all, especially when she bent forward to check out the…the… I couldn’t even see what she was trying to look at. Her shirt rode up and all I could see was that damn ass of hers.

“Jason, did you see this?”

She had righted herself and was looking at me, her green eyes sparkling. I knew she was excited about every little thing because even the plane food had made her happy.

“Everything is all compartmentalized, it’s so cute. Isn’t it cute? And they keep giving us free champagne, and snacks, and Danish pastries. I’m literally in heaven right now.”