To Love Jason Thorn

It had been one hour since I’d dropped Olive off and I was once again sitting in Megan’s office, working on damage control. So far, I’d looked through twelve headshots, recognizing some of the girls while having no idea who the others were. The one thing I knew for certain: I didn’t want any of them.

“I’m starting to doubt your PR skills, Megan,” I said after dropping the photographs back on her desk.

She stared at me blankly as she took a sip of her green tea and slowly put it down on her desk.

“It’s been what? A month? Two months? You still haven’t decided on a girl, Jason. I’m not asking you to make a lifelong commitment here. Pick one so we can draw up a contract and move on from this.”

“I’m not marrying some bloodthirsty new actress who will be in this just to get more exposure. I’m not signing on to carting her around to events and all this publicity crap. Marrying her will be enough torture on its own.”

She tilted her head. “Why exactly do you think we’re doing this, Jason? It will be a win-win for both sides. Why else would they marry you?”

Ouch.

“In your case, you need the positive exposure. You need to remind the public and frankly everyone in the movie industry that you’re not just some exhibitionist and in fact a damn good actor. In her case, whomever you decide to marry, she’ll use you for her own gain, whatever that is. That’s how the game is played.”

I rubbed my forehead and leaned back in my seat. “I don’t like this, Megan. I don’t like it at all.”

“Look, Jason,” she started, leaning over her desk. “You’re an amazing actor. You have the potential to become one of the bests in this industry, but that’s not what the media is circulating any more. Have you read the tabloids lately?”

“You know I don’t touch those.”

“Yeah, you don’t, but people do. They love the gossip, they love to learn the dirty secrets of celebrities, and they definitely love to tear them apart at their first mistake, and every time after that. Those facts will never change. Whether you like it or not doesn’t matter. You’ve been in this game long enough to know the rules.” She stopped and took another sip of her tea. I wanted to take that damn cup and throw it against the wall. “Do you know what they’ll read tomorrow?”

“What?” I snarled.

“A special interview with a college girl from Canada. Apparently, you two fucked all over the place in Toronto, and she is giving the inside scoop on your relationship.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer.

Dumbfounded, I shook my head. “What college girl? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t touched anyone since the alley incident.”

“That’s not what she is saying.”

“And now you’re going to believe the tabloids over me?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. I know you didn’t touch anyone because I’ve been in contact with Alvin.” My eyes narrowed and she shrugged. “In order to protect you, I need to know what’s happening in your life before others can learn about it. So, yeah, of course I’m keeping tabs on you. The point is, tomorrow everyone will eat up the story. It doesn’t even matter whether it’s true or not, or that there are no exclusive pictures attached to the interview this time around. Everyone will believe it simply because, well, it’s what you do.” Another shrug. “It’s the first thing that pops into their minds when they hear the name Jason Thorn.”

“There are no exclusive pictures, blurry or not, because nothing happened in Toronto.” I sighed. No matter what I said, I knew I couldn’t win. “You’re giving me a damn headache, Megan.”

“I wish a headache was your only concern. Any publicity isn’t good publicity in your case, Jason. Denial can only work up to a certain point and they are not having what we’re serving them anymore. You want to be known for your work, not your personal life. That’s what you told me when you hired me, and you were right, because that’s the only way you’ll keep getting the big roles. Otherwise you’ll just get lost in this circus because no one will be interested in having you on their team.”

“And marrying some girl will solve all of my problems.” I gave her a bitter laugh and rose from my seat. The sky was tinged with pink and soft orange hues while in there, in that office, my own world was filling with dark clouds.

“I didn’t say it will solve all your problems at once. It all depends on how you act after you’re married. You’re gonna have to play the good husband role for quite some time. No stepping out on your wife either. I don’t care if you add a clause into the contract, agreeing to have sex just with each other, but you’re not going out there to take out your dick and keep doing what you’ve been doing.”

“I’m not having sex with anyone,” I growled.

She waved her hand, dismissing me. “Of course, before all that happens we’ll have to make it look like you’ve been dating for a month or two before you get married. Leak some cozy photos of you two together. Then we’ll come up with a good story and you’ll elope or something.”

“A good story,” I repeated, running my hand down my face. “My entire fucking life is turning into a horror story.”

“Well, next time you’ll remember to keep it in your pants and we won’t be in this situation again.”

“Thanks for the advice,” I mocked.

“Go home, Jason,” she said wearily. “I have to make a few phone calls and see who else I can add to your ‘future wife’ pile.”

“Great,” I muttered, heading toward the door.

“I’ll be waiting for you at 4 o’clock, tomorrow. Don’t make me chase you. You have to choose someone so we can start shaping the story. This isn’t something that can happen overnight.”

I headed out without saying another word.

***

Me: What are you up to?

Olive: I’m about to scream for Mercy for the second time tonight.

Me: What?!

Olive: LOL! Not that kind of screaming. Unfortunately, it’s only karaoke night and Lucy wants me to celebrate the movie deal by singing my heart out. We’re doing Charlie Puth’s ‘Marvin Gaye’ in ten minutes, for the second time… I believe it’ll happen a few more times before the night ends.

I was back at home, but the longer I tried to relax and read the mostly complete script Bryan had given me, the more I was starting to feel like a trapped animal in my own damn home—which soon enough wouldn’t even be my own home. I would be sharing it with an unknown roommate.

Trying to forget about my own life, I’d decided to text Olive to see if she was free to talk about the script. After all, nobody knew Isaac better than her, and even though I’d read the book thoroughly, twice, it would help if I could get deeper into Isaac’s head. Maybe ask what she was thinking when she was writing from his point of view. She could give me details about his past, things that only she could know.

As for Isaac’s unfiltered sex scenes in the book…I didn’t think I was ready to go there with Olive. After reading the book, I understood why Olive didn’t want Dylan or her dad to read it. Both of them would either have a heart attack, or simply have trouble looking into her eyes again, which would be a great tragedy. Her eyes…they were one of a kind, alluring and intriguing in a way that made you want to get closer to her just so you could study and memorize the depth of the colors, find those hazel specks hiding in the bright green and watch how they sparkled when she smiled at you.

The night she came to my house to meet with Tom, I found out that I had no trouble at all looking at any part of her body, including her eyes, which probably made me a complete bastard.

Reading her last text again, I realized what I was feeling was disappointment. I’d been eager to talk to her, to pick her brain, to see her again. Wasn’t that why I had invited her to sit in on the screen testing? Hadn’t I felt happy when I’d seen her standing in front of the building, smiling at me as I jogged to her side? And in that brief moment, hadn’t I completely forgotten about Dylan being my friend, and Olive being his little sister?

Not liking where my thoughts were heading, I tossed the script aside and shook my head. Maybe not having sex was getting to me. My phone pinged with a new text from Olive.

Olive: What are you up to?

I smiled and walked outside as I texted her back.

Me: Enjoying my freedom while I can.

Olive: What does that mean?

Me: Nothing important. I have part of the script so I was actually thinking of calling you to see if you were free to discuss Isaac. Pick your brain a little.

Olive: I’ve been with Isaac for almost three years. He’s been my day and night. He is so broken, but still perfect just the way he is. Let’s talk about him. Let’s talk about him for hours.

Me: Are we still talking about the same Isaac?

Olive: There can only be one Isaac in my heart. Though he gave his heart to Evie, he’ll forever be in mine.

Me: I’m thinking you’re a little on the drunk side, little one.

Olive: It’s Long Island Iced Tea night!!! And I don’t want to be the little one any more, Jason 🙁 I want to be big Olive. I’ve grown up, I’m not clingy or sticky anymore.

Not having a clue what she was talking about, I hesitated for a short moment before calling Alvin.

“Hi Alvin.”

“Hey, boss. What’s up?” There was a rustling sound in the background.

“Sorry man. Bad timing?”

“It’s fine. Did you need something?”

“Yeah. I need you to find me a…a college bar, probably. They are having a karaoke night.”

I could hear his laptop come to life. “O-kay. Is there any way we can narrow that down? Otherwise the list will be longer than you’d want.”

“It should be somewhere near USC. I’ll text you her address so you can check the bars around the apartment, too.”

“And this ‘her’ we’re talking about is Olive Taylor?”

“Yes,” I replied distractedly as I walked back into the house. If I was going out, I would need to change.

“You’re not considering going out to find her in a bar, are you?”

“And if I am?”

“I’d say you must not have enough of Megan chewing your ass and you’re jonesing for more.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry, she won’t hear about this.” I stopped next to my bed. “And if you don’t want to get fired, you’re not reporting that to her either. Get back to me as soon as you can. I’m texting you her address.”

Ending the call, I texted him the address of her apartment and went to my closet to change into something more college-y to blend in with the rest of the frat boys.

Fifteen minutes later, I was on my way to attempt to find Olive in one of the five bars Alvin had texted.

***

It was at the fourth bar that I finally found…something. And by something, I mean Olive and the friend she had introduced me to that day—Lucy? Charlotte?—up on the small makeshift stage just about to start a song.

She looked…damn it but she looked good. Her hair had clearly been haphazardly put into a messy bun, but there were still a few locks that had escaped and were resting over her shoulders, framing and drawing attention to her beautiful smiling face. She was wearing a short dress, which seemed to sit a little tight on her breasts.

Why the hell am I looking at her breasts, again?

Shit!

When the music blasted, they started swaying to the beat. Then reaching up, she let her hair loose, shook her head, and looked at her friend with a big smile on her face as she mouthed something I couldn’t understand. Just as she had said on the phone, they started to sing ‘Let’s Marvin Gaye’ from the top. Then started the slow hip and shoulder movements. The saps who were lined up in front of the stage ate it all up, catcalling and whistling.

Looking down at the floor, I pulled down my baseball hat, trying not to draw attention to myself. I walked in farther and found a dark corner close to the stage. I wanted to grab a beer from the bar, but it wasn’t worth getting recognized for. As soon as I knew Olive was safe with her friends, I would leave. My hands in my pockets, I leaned back against the wood wall and watched the whole thing with bewilderment, amusement, and fascination.

When Olive smiled and bit her bottom lip as her friend took over the song, I was completely mesmerized by her.

Sucker punched.

Then the chorus came and they were singing together again. At one point, Olive gave her back to her friend, glanced over her shoulder, and with a playful look on her face, winked at her. I would have bet millions of my dollars that every hot-blooded male’s attention was on her, not her friend, but it didn’t even look like Olive cared for any of the attention she was getting. Even though her friend was a fiery brunette, she couldn’t hold a candle to Olive’s beauty. If they had the chance, more than half of those idiots would go after her without a second thought.

Without even realizing what I was doing, I walked closer to the stage. Blending in had been easier than I’d thought it would be, so I didn’t see a problem with being more in the open.

A college bar wasn’t exactly the place people would expect me to hang around, after all. Even if a few of them thought I looked like someone they knew, with the amount of alcohol in their system they wouldn’t remember a thing by the morning, and if someone started to take pictures, I would just head out.

My eyes glued to the stage, specifically on Olive, I didn’t see the guy next to me and took an elbow in my side. Grunting in pain, I lowered my baseball cap just to make sure no one could see my entire face. I couldn’t stay there the entire night, but I knew I wasn’t going anywhere until I talked to Olive and made sure she wasn’t pawed by any drunken idiots.

I didn’t trust any of those bastards not to pull anything on her as soon as she was off the stage.

As much as the crowd was getting heated, Olive and her friend seemed to enjoy singing to each other, laughing and smiling the entire time. When they were at the opposite ends of the stage, Olive crooked her finger at her friend and I found myself a few steps closer to the stage.

Damn it, Jason!

When she screamed for mercy, I was right there with her. My phone started buzzing in my pocket. Seeing Megan’s name on the screen, I ignored her call. Suddenly, flustered and angry for some reason, I was about to turn around and leave when I heard someone yell, ‘I’ll give you all the healing you need, all damn night babe!’

Stupid shitfaced bastards.

So, I stayed.

I would drop her home myself. That way I would feel better, knowing she was safe.

When they were finally done with the song, I was more than ready to deck a few guys I had set my eyes on. Dylan would want me too, wouldn’t he?

As soon as Olive got down from the stage, the guy I’d seen when I’d dropped her off at her apartment took her hand and led both the girls to the end of the bar where a few more of their friends were sitting. Heading toward them, I noticed Olive pulling her hand out of his and linking her arm with her friend’s again.

When I was almost by their side, my eyes met with her friend’s—the one she had been on the stage with—and she recognized me at once. Had someone else also recognized me? Taken pictures? Was that why Megan was calling?

When I was standing right behind Olive, her friend’s grin had become too big for her small face.

That one was trouble.

I cleared my throat, but Olive didn’t hear me, not with the stupid blasting music—none of them did. I glanced at her friend, but she was looking anywhere but me.

Sighing, I put my hand on Olive’s waist.

The touch felt familiar—maybe a little too much.

She whirled around, her hair smacking me in the face; it smelled like fruit. Edible.

Fuck me.

Not edible.

Not my little Olive.

When I was safe from the hair attack, she was staring at me with a frown on her face, then she slightly lifted my baseball cap and recognized me at once. Her expression turned from cute fury to a fucking beautiful smile.

It was good to know she knew how to handle strangers touching her: hit them in the face with the hair whip and then frown up at them until they slithered away. My only hope was that they wouldn’t carry her away along with them.

“Jason!” She beamed up at me and threw herself in my arms, trusting me to catch her.

Grunting at the unexpected weight, I had to take a step back to steady us. Laughing, I nudged her chin up from where it was buried in my chest.

“You smell soooo good,” she slurred slightly. “Did you come to see big Olive? I’m not so little any more, am I, Jason? You saw that, right?”

She looked so vulnerable and hopeful that I had a hard time finding the right words to speak.

My hand acting on its own, I cradled her face and watched her close her eyes for two seconds then softly open them up to gaze right back into mine.

“No. I guess you’re not that little any more, my little Olive.”

She scrunched up her nose. “You’re still calling me little.” Shaking her head, she said, “You need sooo much help with finding the right nicknames. You always did.”

Laughing, I leaned down to her ear and asked, “Do I, now? Would you like to volunteer to help me on that front?”

She nodded eagerly, her smile blooming again.

It was damn impossible not to smile down at her.

For a moment, we stood there glancing at each other and my smile slowly melted away.

I was doing something wrong.

I was feeling something wrong.

Then thankfully, her friend was there, clearing her throat as she put a hand on Olive’s back.

“Lucy,” Olive yelled over the music excitedly as she steadied herself against my chest and saw her friend.

She was definitely a little drunk.

I wanted to tug her closer.

Lucy smiled at her. “Maybe you should let Jason take you home before somebody recognizes him here. People seems to be looking your way,” she added, looking at me apologetically.

I glanced around and sure enough, there were a few people close by, whispering as they kept their eyes on us.

“I should?” Olive asked.

“You definitely should,” Lucy repeated, patting her arm.

“Okay,” agreed Olive and turned to face me. “You should take you home before somebody recognizes me, Jason.”

I smiled. “Okay, let’s get you home then, you little drunk.” My eyes fixed on her lips, I reached up and wiped the moisture away, dragging her mouth open slightly.

She bit down on her lip where I had just touched her.

Holding back a groan, I looked at her friend. “Thank you, Lucy. I’m sorry if I intruded upon your night. I was just worried about her.”

“It’s okay. We can do this any time, and she’s already on her way over to a major hangover, better we cut her off now. She is a lightweight.”

I could see that, and for some reason, I preferred a lightweight Olive to a heavy drinker. Nodding, I gripped Olive’s hand to steer her away from her friends, but her other friend, Charlotte stopped us.

“Here,” she said, handing me a key over Lucy’s shoulder. “Olive doesn’t have one on her.”

“Char, I love you,” Olive exclaimed, and pushing Lucy out of the way, gave her friend a big hug.

“Hey,” Lucy yelled.

“I love you, too, Olive.” Charlotte laughed a little stiffly. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

She nodded and came back to my side, holding her hand out just like she had done when she was only ten years old.

The memory hit me in the back of the head out of nowhere. When Dylan and I had found her sitting on the school steps, she was silently crying because some kid had made fun of the burn scars on her mom’s arms. While Dylan had flown up the steps to find the little shit who had upset his sister, Olive had simply held out her hand, silently asking me to stay with her.

My eyes on her upturned hand, my mind stuck in a memory I hadn’t even been aware I remembered, I reached for it, just like I’d done years before, and held on tight.

I felt more eyes on me, so I looked to Lucy’s left and saw the guy, Marcus, sizing me up with a not-so-happy look on his face.

Ignoring him and saying goodbye to her friends again, I pulled Olive out of the bar and onto the street.

Clean air.

When we reached the black SUV, Olive suddenly stopped. I looked back at her.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

“No.” She squinted her eyes. “I don’t think so. Where is your car?” She looked to her right and left, trying to spot my Spyder.

“I didn’t take the Spyder out tonight, that would be too telling. Come on, this is mine, too.”

“Oh, man,” she groaned, her face crestfallen as she started petting the car. “This monster is yours, too? How many cars do you have?”

“Five,” I answered, amused at her tone.

She groaned louder and her shoulders slumped, but she didn’t object when I unlocked the door and helped her in.

“You’re getting farther and farther away from me, Jason Thorn,” she mumbled as I was trying to buckle her in.

Misunderstanding her meaning, I laughed and said, “That’s because you are drunk. I’m right here. Let’s get you to your bed so you can sleep it off.”

“Let’s,” she murmured, right before I gently closed the door.

***

Our drive to her apartment was quiet as she dozed off in the passenger seat. I parked the car in front of the building and jumped out to help her down before she fell on her face. When I slowly opened the passenger side door, she was still sleeping. I was considering whether I should carry her upstairs or if that would be pushing it when some jackass drove by us and someone leaned out the window and shouted something at us.

Fucking idiot.

Olive’s eyes opened with a small frown.

“Jason?” she asked, her voice all drowsy and sexy.

Shit!

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart. Can you walk if I help you?”

Her face still confused, she almost toppled down the seat when she tried to take a step out into thin air.

“Whoa, easy there,” I said, gripping her waist. Her dress had ridden up and it seemed insistent on flashing me her white lacy underwear. “O-kay. I think it’s way past your bed time, Olive. How about you give me a little help so I can get you up while you are still intact.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes half closed.

I locked the car, sneaked my arm around her waist, and half carried her up to their apartment as she hung on to me.

When we were finally inside, I had trouble locating the light switch and eventually gave up on it altogether. Fuck eyesight, especially when my friend’s sister was almost half-naked in my arms.

“Olive? Are you awake enough to tell me which room is yours?”

“Huh?”

“Sweetheart,” I mumbled, taking her weight as she rested her head against my chest. I gripped her chin and tilted her head up. Her eyes opened.

“Jason.” She looked at me as if she was seeing me for the first time. There was that smile again.

“Hi there,” I said, brushing away her bangs from her face.

She put both of her hands on my chest and hiccupped. “Hi.”

I chuckled and held her up as her knees buckled. Regaining her balance, she looked around for a moment then turned her huge eyes at me. “What are you doing in here?”

“Came to drop you off. Can you show me your room?”

She lifted her hand and pointed to her left.

“Where are Lucy and Charlotte?”

“They’re still back at the bar, remember? People were starting to notice me so I had to leave with you. I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough.”

She half shrugged and yawned through the motion.

We entered her room and I stopped short. This was her room? Just a bed against the wall? Not that she had any space for anything else, but still. Glancing to my right, I saw a small dresser in the corner, but that sad piece of furniture didn’t even count.

“Sorry,” she said in a small voice. I had no idea how she’d guessed where my thoughts were, but she hit it right on the nose. “Considering where you live, this apartment”—she gestured to her room with her hand—“this room must look very small to you.”

“Come on,” I said, ignoring her words. As soon as I lowered her on the bed, she grunted and fell to her side.

“Can you put my legs on the bed? Please? I don’t think I have it in me to lift my arms and get undressed.”

“Believe me, that’s good news for me,” I muttered quietly and kneeled next to her bed. I didn’t think it would be wise of me to deal with a half-naked Olive. Pulling the high heels off of her feet, I gently gripped her ankles and lifted them up.

Either way, she didn’t need to get undressed; her legs were right there for all to see. As if that wasn’t enough torture, she stretched her arms, groaned, and started to turn her hips this way and that way, causing her dress to shimmy up. Leaning over her, I pulled the edge of her dress down a little and my knuckles caressed the soft skin of her thighs.

A soft moan escaped her lips and I froze. I was fascinated by the goose bumps that had appeared on her legs after the small contact. While I was distracted by that soft moan and her legs, she chose exactly that moment to flip onto her stomach and hug her pillow.

“Goddamn it!” I cursed as I tried to pull out my hand from underneath her. When I finally managed to do so after palming places I shouldn’t even get close to, I let out a long breath and straightened up.

Then I saw her round ass. “Oh, for god’s sake…”

“Jason,” she mumbled when I was still staring at her sleeping form.

A small, helpless growl escaped from my lips. “Yes?”

She smiled, but her eyes were still closed when she asked, “Will you stay in Dylan’s room again? I know you were his friend and not mine, but I used to get so excited when you stayed over. Even after you broke my heart, I couldn’t hate you. Not really.”

Thinking she was talking about me leaving after my mother’s suicide, I sat down on the bed and brushed away the few pieces of hair that were covering her face.

Looking around the room, I saw a neatly folded blue throw on the edge of her bed. Since I knew it would be damn near impossible to lift her from the bed and get her under the covers, I opted to use the throw to at least cover her legs.

Instead of leaving like I should’ve done, I took a minute to watch over her. Then I leaned down and brushed a small kiss on her temple. “I’m sorry for breaking your heart, sweetheart. I never meant to hurt any of you.”

Trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake her up, I hesitated to leave once I was at the door. Her breathing had deepened and she looked like my Olive.

Not mine mine…but still…maybe… Oh, I was fucked…

I wasn’t ready to admit it aloud, but I might have liked touching her bare skin a lot more than I should have, both at the parking lot and just then.

Either way, I wasn’t in trouble. I shouldn’t be.

At least not yet.

Hollywood heartthrob Jason Thorn spotted getting cozy with a mystery beauty

Just weeks ago, the movie star shocked everyone when the back-alley footage of him and Jennifer Widner, 25, having a quickie was revealed all over the media outlets. While it was taken down rather quickly, it’s not something we’ll forget any time soon.

However, in these photos, Jason Thorn, 26, seems to have forgotten all about his costar Jennifer, and his alleged Canada quickie, who was all over the tabloids just last week. While we have yet to identify the young woman in these intimate pictures, Jason seems completely enraptured with her.

An eyewitness claimed: ‘Her shirt looked completely ruined and Jason was helping her out of it in the parking lot. We thought they were about to get busy right there in the open—the heat between them was that palpable. While she looked a little flustered, they couldn’t take their eyes off of each other. After she had the shirt on, Jason caressed her stomach. We were shocked when Jason Thorn just backed off after the short but intimate touch. They looked completely in love with each other.’

After seeing these snaps of the pair, our team agrees, especially the one where Jason is greeting the mystery woman with a kiss on her temple. Anyone else swooning?

The rumors are still circulating that Jason has lost two major roles because of his sexcapades making the rounds. However, he doesn’t seem too worried about it. Wouldn’t you agree?

The pair was photographed leaving together, but our sources say they didn’t head to Jason Thorn’s pad in Bel Air.

So far we haven’t heard anything back from Jason’s reps. Do you think this is just another fling where the mystery woman will end up in another alley with Jason Thorn? Or does it look like the movie star is changing his ways for the lady in question? It would definitely be a first, don’t you think? Either way, we’ll keep you in the loop.