Anyone But the Superstar (Anyone But You #3)

Chapter 15

15

FELIX

‘Jesus H Christ!’ Ron’s voice booms across the pool. ‘Get it off me!’

Anne and I jerk apart, her looking deliciously confused, me 100 per cent certain of what ‘it’ is.

And sure enough, when I’m able to focus beyond Anne’s lips, I catch sight of Mike, looking like an obese, hairless flying squirrel, attacking Ron’s backside.

How he attached himself to the back of a middle-aged man’s cargo shorts, I have no idea, but there he is, digging into Ron’s rear end with all the frantic pawing of a dog searching for a bone.

Anne’s hand encircles my forearm in a vice-like grip when she catches sight of the chaos. ‘Mike Hunt!’

If there was anything that would get more attention than a hairless cat attacking the ass of one of the foremost revered directors in all of Hollywood, it would be Mike’s full name screamed in a secured, government facility.

Especially as it’s shouted in a lull between Ron’s stunned curses .

Half the crew focuses on Anne.

‘What did she just say?’

‘She can’t possibly mean?—’

‘I thought only British people used that word?’

‘What the—fuck!’ Ron’s face goes white and David reaches out a hand to steady him.

Oblivious to everything but Mike on Ron, Anne rushes forward, arms out. ‘Mikey, let go!’

‘His claws…’ Ron drops his hands to the front of his shorts and every male winces in sympathy from Mike digging a little too deep.

David grabs hold of Ron’s shoulders, stiff with pain, while Anne grabs ahold of Mike’s ribcage. A tug of war ensues with David pulling one way and Anne pulling the other.

Fabric renders.

Anne’s bare feet grip the wet cement, as she just manages to maintain her hold on Mike.

Ron’s sneakers aren’t so lucky. He pinwheels back into David, both sliding perilously close to the water’s edge.

I snap to my senses just in time to prevent them from capsizing into the pool, pulling them forward by Ron’s t-shirt.

More fabric renders.

‘What—’ Ron’s pants echo over the shocked, silent crew ‘—the hell?’

Bent over from exertion, the crew bears witness to their director’s white briefs, revealed behind shredded cargo shorts.

Briefs and… frowning, I reach out and unhook an object from Ron’s back belt loop. ‘Is this a hair thing?’

‘Who the fuck cares what that is?’ Ron snatches the hair accessory from my hand, pointing it at Mike. ‘The real question is what the hell is that and who the fuck allowed it on my set?’ The silver, rhinestoned claw catches sparkles under the many fluorescent overhead lights.

Mike’s shoulders shimmy, his eyes narrowing on Ron’s hand.

‘No, buddy.’ Anne struggles to contain him, but Mikey’s leash is nowhere in sight. ‘Don’t you do it.’ But it’s too late. Anne loses her grip and Mikey pounces.

Ron, horror struck once more, steps back, throwing his hands, and the hair accessory, trying to ward off the attack.

Anne steps forward, hand outstretched. ‘Mikey!’

But it’s too late.

The hair clip arcs over his head. And, like an acrobat, Mike climbs the director’s body, using Ron’s shoulders as a launching pad to dive after the sparkling accessory.

And dive he does – right into NASA’s swimming pool.

There’s a splash, then silence. Everyone’s eyes fixated on the circle of ripples wavering above the submerged International Space Station mock-up.

‘Mikey?’ Anne’s voice, stunned and anxious, breaks me from my stupor.

I tug off my boots.

‘Don’t even think about it, Jones.’ Ron has one hand on his ass, the other at the torn neck of his t-shirt and his voice brokers no argument.

So I don’t argue.

Because I always listen to my director. I’m known for it. And, if I’m asked later, I will insist that I’d listened to him now. Because there’s no way I’d be doing exactly what I’m doing now, if I’d been thinking about it at all.

I jump in.

‘Damn it, Jones!’ Ron’s voice carries underwater.

Just to prove how much I hadn’t been thinking about my actions, as soon as I hit the water, I realize cannonballing into the pool was not the smartest course of action.

For so many reasons.

Like, having closed my eyes, I get turned around in the unfamiliar pool. And with the pool so deep, I’m unable to push off the bottom, leaving me kicking to the surface, which is slow and exhausting thanks to my soaked jeans.

But the main reason jumping into the pool after Mike was a bad idea is because the force from all 212 pounds of me has caused a surge of waves that have pushed the skinny-dipping feline farther and farther away.

‘Mikey!’

Ignoring the sting of chlorine from the water in my eyes, I squint up at Anne, whose bare toes are over the edge of the pool, looking like she’s about to man-overboard alongside me.

‘I’ve got him.’ At least, I hope I do. ‘Stay there.’

She gives me a quick glance and a shaky nod before pointing toward the middle of the pool.

I begin swimming in that direction, huffing what seems like equal amounts of water and air.

‘Fucking hell!’

I’m pretty sure that’s Ron, but I’m too focused on the task before me to turn back and check.

‘Mike.’ I catch a glimpse of his ears as I push my hands out and back in a breaststroke, the heavy weight of wet denim making my legs almost useless. ‘Come here, man.’

While the waves I made pushed Mike a few feet away, his intense kitty-paddling is taking him even farther over the International Space Station and middle of the 200-foot-long pool.

Validating my feline aversion, Mike continues pawing the water in front of him – away from me .

I hear another splash, but I’m too focused on catching up to Mike that I don’t check who else is dumb enough to join my cat crusade.

I just hope it isn’t Anne.

Finally , I snag an arm around Mike. He must’ve gotten a hold of the hair clip just before I grabbed him because it’s in his front paws but he’s batting it around making it hard to keep hold of him.

‘Chill, man.’

Struggling to keep him and me above water, it hits that I’m now a hundred feet from the edge of a pool with no shallow end. And now, with Mike in my arms, I’ll need to swim back one handed.

I shift him to my chest so I can give us a moment’s rest by floating on my back, but the heavy soaked denim around my legs doesn’t allow me more than a few seconds before I need to kick out if I don’t want us pulled under.

‘I promise…’ My pleading’s staggered from struggling to stay above water. ‘I’ll buy you… a disco ball… if you just… stop moving.’

Hair accessory secure in his mouth, Mike listens.

And yet, in typical Mike fashion, he listens by digging his claws in the wet flannel covering my chest so he can use me like his personal flotation device.

Taking a moment to recoup, I close my eyes against the bright overhead lights above the pool and focus on keeping the top of my body above water.

I also question the validity of my trainer.

I’m a fit guy. The whole country can testify to that, or at least the ones who watch my movies. I do most of my own stunts and I work out nearly every day. Some might even say I’m cut.

The act of swimming, fully clothed, after a naked cat has become my Everest, and I’ve found myself up shit mountain without a sherpa.

I’m fucking exhausted.

‘I’ve got you.’

Either my ears are waterlogged, making Anne’s voice deeper, or there’s someone else willing to jump in after Mike Hunt.

Someone with heavily muscled arms and solid shoulders.

Tilting my head back against one of the shoulders now propping my head up, I find myself staring into dark-brown eyes ringed with vivid green. ‘Hold on to the, uh, cat, and just let your body relax as I pull you in.’

I might be suffering from oxygen deprivation. Or muscle fatigue. Or quite possibly my brain hasn’t recovered from Anne’s reality-altering kiss. But whatever it is, as the muscular man with pretty eyes floats me to safety, I have the strange thought that I might want to start looking into damsels-in-distress roles.

Because being rescued isn’t half bad.

Mike shifts, clawing my nipple.

Minus the cat, of course.

Liz

‘What in the ever-loving fuck just happened?’ Ron’s temper, momentarily checked when his leading man jumped into a pool to save an ass-assaulting hairless cat, explodes once more.

Felix winces before giving him one of the two towels that someone handed him and the guy next to him. The guy who helped save him and Mike.

Too overcome with relief to be concerned with Ron’s implosion, I cuddle a wet and weakened Mike Hunt to my chest while the crew scurries to find more towels.

Mike nuzzles me, something hard and pointy digging into my shirt. Pulling back, my eyes narrow on the hair clip clenched between his chattering jaw.

Feeling murderous, I search the crew for a white tank top.

‘Someone get more towels.’

‘Call wardrobe for a new outfit.’

‘Where the hell is Amanda?’

The crew, formerly frozen in shock, jumps into action. I can’t find Sylvie among them. If she ran, she’s smart. Because if I catch hold of her now, feeling like this, I’d end up doing something truly horrific.

Something worse than a quick punch to the implant. Or some impromptu water boarding in front of her movie-star crush.

No, I’d do something that would scar her for life – both mentally and physically.

Something demonic like spraying her with edible glitter and locking her in a room with a disco ball and a catnip-drugged Mike Hunt whilst Tom Jones’ ‘What’s New Pussycat?’ played on repeat.

I’m startled out of my vengeance planning when the guy who helped Felix and Mike catches my eye. Having been so concerned with Mike, I failed to notice how attractive he is. Or how shirtless. Standing in a pair of board shorts, he looks like a wet, muscular K-Pop idol Ken doll come to life.

‘Everything all right?’

It takes a second for his words to compute. Oddly, it’s the same amount of time it takes to stop staring at his abs.

‘Um, yes. Yes, it is.’ I hug Mike closer to my chest. ‘I can’t thank you enough. ’

‘Yeah.’ Felix flares out the new towel someone tossed him and wraps it around me, obscuring my view of K-Pop Ken. ‘Thanks for the help.’ Pulling me closer to him, he peers over my shoulder to see Mike. ‘How’s the little guy doing?’

Mike slow blinks while using my boob as his pillow, the maniacal feline already starting to doze. Which isn’t surprising considering he’s gotten more physical activity in the last five minutes than he probably has all year.

With the tube-topped object of my anger not here to rage against, the tears of relief that have threatened since Felix managed to catch up to Mike in the dead center of the pool are harder to hold back. ‘Fine, I—’ I clear my throat. ‘Fine, I think.’

Felix’s eyes catch mine.

A drop of water slides down his temple, close to his mouth, and his breath hitches.

As does mine.

‘Felix, I?—’

‘Excuse me?’ Ron’s New Balance sneakers smack to a stop next to us. ‘Can someone tell me how the hell we’re supposed to film our next scene with one actor missing and the other soaking fucking wet?’

For a man with his tighty-whities half exposed, Ron is surprisingly frightening.

‘Sorry, Ron.’ Felix shifts, the odd moment gone. ‘I’ll find wardrobe and?—’

‘Who are you?’ Ron points to K-pop Ken, who steps up on my other side, his ab muscles glistening under the nearby camera lights.

Felix pulls me back.

‘Park In-Su.’ He holds his hand out to Ron.

As if out of habit, Ron grasps it.

Park smiles .

The director blinks, momentarily stunned just like I’d been. ‘Are you an actor?’ Ron sounds hopeful.

‘No.’ Park chuckles. ‘I’m an astronaut.’

At ‘astronaut’, I glance across to where Park had jumped into the pool and where a few NASA employees have gathered to see what all the Hollywood commotion is about.

Thankfully, I don’t see a blonde with black glasses. As much as I want to see my sister, I definitely don’t want to be holding Mike Hunt, about to be fired, the first time we meet.

Park gestures to his co-workers. ‘I just happened to see what was going on as I was exiting the locker rooms.’ He chuckles at Mike. ‘Man, the others are not going to believe me when I tell them what happened.’

Hopefully by ‘others’, he doesn’t mean my sister.

Park’s smile brightens. ‘I’ll just have to see if I can get a copy of the footage.’

‘What footage?’ My voice cracks at the end.

Mikey nuzzles my boob.

Park points into the pool. ‘There are cameras lined along the pool’s walls.’ He crosses his fingers. ‘Let’s hope they were on just now.’

Ron closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if trying to fend off a mental breakdown. ‘David?’ His voice much lower and calmer than before.

My professor is at his side in an instant. ‘Yeah, Ron?’

‘Why does your intern have a cat?’ The undercurrent of his question a lot darker than all his previous shouting. ‘And why is it on set?’

David jerks his head to me, then back to Ron. ‘Ah, well you see…’

‘Mike’s an emotional support animal,’ I offer, my voice a lot higher than I’d like. Water droplets that I can’t blame on the pool, sliding down my temples.

As if knowing he’s the topic of conversation, Mike flops his head back to aim an upside-down glare at Ron. I juggle his weight, trying to show Mike in a better light. If such a thing is possible. ‘After I cleared it with NASA, I thought?—’

‘Why wasn’t it cleared with me ?’ Ron, looking less than impressed with Mike and his (probably forged) credentials, crosses him arms.

The crew stills once more, all eyes on me. Judging eyes.

Heat rushes to my face and I feel like I’m seventeen again, standing in front of my ‘father’, who’s furious because I had the audacity to ask to go to an art institute rather than an Ivy League college.

David, sensing my discomfort as he did during the scene blocking, opens his mouth.

I cut him off with a look, not wanting to jeopardize his comeback to film or his friendship with Ron over something that is very much my fault. I should’ve gone home. I should’ve said no to being a stand-in. And I most assuredly should not have had Mike on set with me surrounded by all these people and various temptations to cause mischief and mayhem.

Consoling myself with the thought that I’ll still have an opportunity to meet my sister at the astronaut dinner, I take a deep breath and prepare to be fired. ‘I’m?—’

‘Because I didn’t tell her to.’ Felix takes a step forward, drawing Ron’s attention.

Ron pulls back. ‘And why would you be talking to her?’ He frowns at Felix, and, if possible, his eyes narrow further. ‘She’s an intern.’

Man. Hollywood really doesn’t like interns.

‘Because I hired her.’ Felix thumbs over his shoulder at Mike, now snoring like a top-of-the-line espresso maker in my arms. ‘To look after my emotional support animal.’

My mouth, along with all the others’, drops.

‘That’s your animal?’ Ron’s voice rises again, this time at a higher pitch.

In my peripheral vision, I notice Park’s shoulders shaking.

‘Yeah.’ Felix crosses his arms, looking every inch the kick-ass-and-take-names action hero he is. ‘Is it a problem to take care of your mental health?’

The vein at Ron’s temple pulses.

‘Sorry about that.’ Amanda, looking badass in a blue NASA jumpsuit, struts through the gathered crew. Her million-dollar smile fading as she comes full stop next to David, her eyes ping-ponging between her soggy co-star, the half-naked astronaut and the apocalyptic expression on her director’s face. ‘Um…’ Settling on me, she raises an eyebrow at Mike. ‘What’d I miss?’