Suddenly Starstruck (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective Book 4) Page 10

Ethan felt agitated and wished Drake would quit using the word beautiful in regards to Macy. "Seems like you're a big fan," Ethan said. "Is she your girlfriend or something?"

  Drake chuckled. "No. I mean, I kissed her one time, but that was literally a mistake, if you can believe it. It was dark, and we both thought we were somebody else." Drake laughed, and so did all of the women in the room. They all started chiming in with accidental kiss tidbits of their own, but Ethan was not in the mood.

  "Get her here," he said, a little too firmly.

  They all looked at him, and he gave them a little smile.

  "Can you, could you please see about getting Macy over here so we can thank her for her work?"

  "I'm sure I could," Drake said, in an effort to be as accommodating as possible.

  "Maybe we should take a look at what she did before we call her over here," Karen suggested. "Because if I spent three grand and I hate it, I'm probably gonna come across as a little rude." She made the statement with a smile as if it was all very jokey-jokey, but Ethan just looked at her with a serious expression.

  "I like it," Ethan said. "I already saw it in the pictures."

  Karen looked at Drake with a pleading expression. "Why'd he get to see it and I didn't?"

  "Because he saw it in pictures."

  Everyone standing around agreed they were curious, so Drake went ahead and clicked on one of the photos of Macy that had a lot of background around it. It was the one of her in a dancing pose, and Ethan felt the urge to step onto the screen so he could stand next to her. Karen gasped. "That's great," she said. "Not what I expected, but better. I love the little buildings. Who's the girl?"

  "The artist," Ethan said. "The one who painted it. She should be here. I don't know why she's not."

  "I don't know why she would be," Karen said, looking confused.

  "Because I want her here," Ethan said. He looked at Drake. "Could you please have your assistant see about getting her here while I'm changing?"

  "Sure," Drake said. "There's a mini-fridge in the dressing area with drinks. Help yourself to anything you like. Karen will show you where everything is. I think we're planning on shooting you wearing the white suit first."

  "We are," said the stylist. "I have it ready to go back here."

  Ethan started to follow her, but he looked at Drake from over his shoulder. "Are you gonna call Macy?" he asked.

  Drake smiled and nodded as he began walking away. "I can't promise we'll be able to reach her, but we'll try. I'll have Melody call."

  Chapter 14

  I told myself the silliest lie that day after I brought the backdrop by Drake's. First, I broke my biggest rule by searching Ethan's name on the internet, and then I tried to convince myself that I was only doing it because I wanted to imagine my backdrop behind the photos I saw of him when I Googled his name.

  The first few rows of photos were fine, but then I got into some where he'd been photographed with different girls. Granted, some were his co-stars, but I didn't really care to see any of it. I quickly scrolled back to the top where I found the photos of Ethan by himself, and I looked at one of him where he was standing on a sidewalk, wearing black jeans, a black jacket with a white shirt underneath. His hands were casually in his pockets, and he was gazing straight at the camera with a pleasant but serious expression.

  I stared at the screen, taking in the shape of his mouth and realizing I knew how it moved when he spoke. I could just imagine the guy in the photo smiling and talking—I knew exactly what it would look like and could see in my mind's eye all the other shapes his lips would make. I could all but hear the sound of his voice.

  I felt sick to my stomach after looking at that picture, and I made a promise to myself that I'd never, ever type Ethan's name into Google again. It was later that afternoon, and I was still holding true to that promise when I got a call from Drake. I assumed he was calling to tell me how Ethan and the crew from the magazine reacted to my painting, and my heart started pounding the instant I saw his name on my screen.

  "Hello?"

  "Hello, am I speaking with Macy?" a girl's voice asked.

  I looked at my phone again, making sure that it was Drake's name on the screen, which it was.

  "Yes," I said cautiously.

  "My name is Melody. I'm assisting Drake today at the photo shoot. We were wondering… I was calling because… Mr. Prescott is requesting your presence at the studio."

  "Do you mean Mr. Salinger?" I asked, since she was calling from Drake's phone.

  "Drake asked me to call you, but I believe it's Mr. Prescott who requested your presence."

  "Is it about the backdrop?" I asked.

  "No. At least I don't think it is. I don't think he's seen the backdrop. Maybe in a picture. I'm not sure. All I know is that he asked me to call and ask you if there was any possible way you could make it over here."

  "Who did?"

  "Drake. But Mr. Prescott is the one asking for you."

  "Do you know why?" I asked. "Or how long you guys will be working? Even if I left now, it would take at least a half-hour to get there."

  "I believe that would suit everyone," she said, smiling.

  "Wait, I can't just come right this second. I'm waiting for my sister to get home. She's on her way, but still, I need to change clothes and everything. It might be closer to an hour."

  "Thank you! I'll tell them you're on your way."

  "Are you sure it's okay that it'll take that long? Don't you want to ask somebody if they still want me to come?"

  "We'll be here," Melody said, cheerily. "Thanks so much, we'll see you in a bit!"

  "Okay, bye," I said dazedly.

  I stared at the phone in amazement as I pressed the button to disconnect. I had no clue how that assistant made me so easily agree to run right over to Drake's without getting more information, and I found myself wanting to call back, but not really knowing what I would say if I did.

  My sister got home within a few minutes of me hanging up the phone, but I still took fifteen or twenty minutes to freshen up before I left. I pulled my hair away from my face using a scarf that was the same light teal color as my shirt. My sister and niece whistled for me on the way out and told me I looked like a million bucks, which let me know how very little attention I'd been paying to my appearance lately.

  Tab asked me where I was going, and I told her I was going to Drake's, but I didn't mention Ethan at all. My interactions with him had been so hot and cold that, by that point, I knew better than to get my hopes up. I acted like I was going to Drake's for my paycheck, which was partially true since I was planning on asking him about it.

  I took the subway. There was a stop close to Drake's, and I knew it would be as fast as taking a cab. As a general rule, I didn't talk to people much on the subway, but this time sat beside a nice, older lady with an oversized tote bag and one of those walking canes that had four legs at the bottom instead of just the one. We had a brief conversation about the weather and the fact that she was on her way to her daughter's house for dinner. The knowledge that Ethan was expecting me made me feel like I was in a dream, so my encounter with her was somewhat surreal.

  Before I knew it, I had gotten off the subway, walked two blocks, entered Drake's building, and was riding the elevator to his studio. I had no idea what type of vibe or how many people I would encounter when I went inside.

  There was action taking place on the far side of the studio—I could see it right when I walked in. Ethan was wearing dark clothing and was sitting on a stool in front of an old row of windows that lined one wall of Drake's studio. I could clearly see him in spite of the fact that three or four people stood around.

  Drake's assistant came over to me and explained that they had already taken pictures using the backdrop I painted, and that everyone was excited about how they came out. This was a weight off of my shoulders. I could breathe a little easier after she said that. She also mentioned that Ethan had one more wardrobe change, but that they should be done w
ithin the hour.

  "What are you doing here?" I heard a man's voice call from across the room.

  I knew it was Ethan who said it, so I wasn't surprised to see him looking at me when I glanced that way, but it still surprised me that he was asking why I was there when he was the one who asked me to come. He crossed the room, heading in my direction. I felt breathless. He looked at me with a serious expression like he was truly wondering what I was doing there.

  "I thought you asked me to come here," I said with a confused expression. "I was under the impression that…"

  I trailed off when a smile spread across his face.

  "I missed your face," he said.

  I looked away. His smile and sweet words had me feeling dizzy. He came to stand right in front of me and reached out to touch my cheek with the side of his finger. I glanced at him and smiled when our eyes met.

  "We loved the painting," he said. "He got some good photos already."

  I glanced around nervously at the people who had stopped what they were doing when Ethan left to come speak to me. They were polite enough but also seemed in a hurry to get back to the task at hand.

  I smiled and bowed with a sweeping gesture as if indicating that they should continue doing whatever it was before I got there. "I'll just hang out while you guys finish up," I said.

  Ethan stood right in front of me, unaware of anyone looking at us and staring at my face like he was trying to memorize it. "Please don't leave," he said.

  I smiled, wondering how he seemed so desperate all of a sudden after two weeks of not contacting me at all. "I won't," I promised. "I'll wait over here."

  Drake said he was done with that set of photos, so Ethan and his team took off toward the changing rooms while I headed toward Drake. A few women I didn't recognize were having a conversation nearby, but they didn't pay much attention to me.

  "The photos are gonna be great," Drake said, when he saw me approaching. "They really are. I'd be surprised if they don't choose one with your backdrop for the cover."

  I gave him a grateful smile. "I'm just glad they liked it. I don't have my heart set on the cover. It'd be nice, but I'm not gonna be devastated if it doesn’t happen. God knows my hairs."

  "What's that mean?" Drake asked.

  "It means if He cares to know something so insignificant, then He cares whether or not I make the cover. So, either way, it'll be fine."

  Drake smiled at me. "Well, I think God's gonna end up putting your painting on the cover," he said. "Because it looked amazing, and Karen already pretty much settled on one."

  I gave Drake an excited smile where I clinched my teeth together. This made him crack up and hug me. He left his arm around my shoulder when he whispered, "You should have seen Ethan's face earlier when he saw that picture of you doing the—" Drake cut himself off when he realized he had messed up and said too much.

  I slapped a hand to my forehead, and he hugged me, in an attempt to get me to not be mad at him.

  "I really hope you didn't show him the ones where I was being a big goofball."

  "You were being a big goofball in all of them," he said. "But that's what I'm saying. It didn't matter. You should have seen his face. I was complimenting you, and he looked at me like he was daydreaming about punching my lights out for it."

  "What'd he say?"

  "It's not what he said, it's how he looked at me—and better yet how he looked at you. And then he asked if we could get you here, so I had Melody call you, and here you are."

  "Here I am," I said.

  Drake still had his arm around my shoulder, and we were smiling at each other when I heard Ethan calling my name. I turned to scan the room and caught sight of him sticking his head out of the changing room. He crooked his finger at me, and I was helpless to do anything but walk over there. Drake and I exchanged a quick glance before I took off toward the other side of the studio. The two women sitting near Ethan's changing room gave me a confused shrug when I looked their way. Ethan had the door closed, and I knocked on it.

  "Come in," he said.

  I carefully cracked the door open, peering inside, and smiling when I laid eyes on him. He had on jeans, and boots and a belt, but he was still in the process of putting on his shirt. After he stretched it over his head and shrugged into it, he gestured for me to come inside with an easy smile and a flick of his head. He knew what he was doing to me by letting me see his bare chest and abs, and I had to take a calming breath as I stepped inside. I let the door close behind me, leaning on the inside of it for support.

  "You could have had your shirt on by the time I got here," I said.

  "Where's the fun in that?" he asked.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, and he returned the expression, with an amused grin attached to his squint. The shirt he had put on was light, grey-ish blue, and it looked sharp against his dark eyes and hair.

  "I'm supposed to wear this," he said, motioning to a jacket that was hanging on a nearby clothing rack. It was reminiscent of a letterman's jacket, and I knew it would look good with the outfit he had on.

  "It'll look great," I said.

  "You think so?" he asked. "I didn't know if it was me."

  "Well, I like it, but don't let me talk you into it. You certainly know more about what you like than I do."

  "Do I?" he asked thoughtfully.

  I smiled. "Try it on."

  From sheer nervous energy, I stepped forward and took the jacket off of the hanger for him. Once I had it in my hand, the next logical thing was to help him put it on, so that's what I did. I held it open and Ethan smiled at me before putting one arm into it and then the other. He adjusted the collar and the sleeves to make sure it was lying straight.

  "I love it," I said, pulling back to get a look. "Those girls know what they're doing. It looks really good." There was a tiny speck of fuzz on his collar and I used the excuse of getting it off to reach up and touch him. I let my eye roam over his shoulders as if inspecting the way the jacket rested on him and making sure there was no more fuzz. My gaze fell onto his collar, scanning the skin on the front of his neck before roaming up to his jaw. He had a little stubble on his jaw, and I followed it to his sideburns and up the side of his face, tracing his cheekbone until I caught sight of his eyes. By the time my gaze met his, I realized that he'd just been standing there watching me look at him. My hand was still lightly resting on his shoulder from when I got the piece of fuzz, and I left it there, relaxing and resting slightly more weight on him.

  "I can't get away from you, Macy."

  "Sure, you can," I whispered, thinking that he'd been doing a good job of it since we met.

  "In my mind," he said. "I can't get away from you in my mind." He reached out, took my hand, and placed my palm over his chest—on top of the T-shirt but under the jacket. My own chest ached, and I felt a bit like I wanted to cry at the rush of emotions. "It's like you're in here," he said softly. "The things you say, and the way you are—you're in here. You've made your way in here. I don't quite know what to do with that, but I know it's the truth."

  I felt so overwhelmed with love for him, that it scared me. Good grief, there I went, falling in love with him for a third time. I took a deep breath and slipped my hand out from under his.

  "You've got to get out there. I said, stepping back. "They're waiting on you."

  Chapter 15

  "They're waiting on you," I whispered again when Ethan ignored my statement.

  He slowly shook his head at me, taking a step forward. He was regarding me with a mischievous half-grin that had my stomach buzzing. "They can wait a minute," he said.

  "Did you like the painting?" I asked.

  "Loved it," he said. "So did everyone else."

  I smiled. "Drake said he got some good pictures of you."

  "Does Drake always walk around with his arm around you?"

  "Who, me? Over there, you mean? He was just… I don't know what he was even saying, he just hugged me for some reason. I think he was talking about the
backdrop. It wasn't anything."

  I knew my stuttering jumpiness came across as more guilty and nervous than necessary given the fact that I had no commitment to Ethan, so I just shut my mouth.

  "Why'd you call me here?" I whispered, switching gears.

  "Because I wanted to see you. I was really trying to get you out of my head, but then I saw those pictures from this morning, and I realized I didn't necessarily want you out of my head at all."

  "I think that might have been a compliment," I said squinting skeptically at him. "But it was overshadowed by the part about Drake showing you those pictures. I can't believe he didn't delete those."

  Ethan reached out and tugged at my shirt to pull me toward him. I took a small step closer, but was still a foot or two away when he did it again, causing me to step even closer. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. It was beating so quickly that my ears sounded completely stopped up. I took an unsteady breath, looking up at him from our new, closer proximity. He smelled perfectly natural and clean like wood, and leather, and soap. I wanted to follow the scent like Scooby Doo and walk dazedly on twinkle toes until I collided with the source of it.

  Ethan.

  The one and only Ethan Prescott was standing only inches away and acting like he was mine for the taking. He had a little patch of hair growing under his lower lip, and I got lost staring at it. I was on sensory overload, and then he went and smiled at me, making matters worse.

  "I'm gonna be really honest with you, Ethan," I said breathlessly.

  "What?" he asked. He put his hand around the back of my waist with the lightest of touch. I felt weak in the knees, but (after falling for him twice only to have him not call) I knew I had to be cautious.

  "I missed you," he said quietly. I knew he meant it—I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was telling the truth.

  "I missed you, too," I said. "I've been busy with that painting and work. Thanks for getting me this job."

  He smiled. "My motives might have been selfish on that," he said.

  "How so? Because you knew I'd be indebted to you?"