Jaymeson
Yup. It was official. The minute I'd stepped into my rented beach house in Seaside â I'd lost it.
Seriously.
I'd lost my head.
My mind.
My shit.
My everything.
And I freaking sat home alone on a Saturday night â talking to a girl who didn't really know who I was, and, oh yeah, watched an old Audrey Hepburn movie.
The minute the credits rolled, I had an epiphany. Maybe I was having a nervous breakdown? Don't roll your eyes! It happens!
I knew a guy from Hollywood that ended up walking three miles in the snow with nothing on but a smile â all because he was convinced that nothing could hurt him.
He got frostbite on his ass.
His ass!
Another guy ended up getting so into his role of playing a chicken that he asked a hypnotist to make it so that he actually believed he was a chicken.
It kind of stuck. Now he works at FunLand.
What can I say? Money does crazy things to people.
My point? It happens. It happens more than the general public even knows! Hollywood is all about pressure. It's about being the best, and even when people say you've finally made it?
I set my phone on the counter and tugged my shirt off as sweat poured down my body.
See? It was even hot as hell in Seaside! Or maybe it was just my house. I took a few more soothing breaths and looked down at my phone just as an alert went off.
Priscilla had sent me a picture. She had her PJ's on and a stuffed brown horse in her hands as she waved. The caption said goodnight.
My heart may have fluttered.
And my throat may have gone dry as my eyes stared at the picture â nearly burning a hole into it.
I had to have her.
And I didn't even know why. I wanted to hate myself for wanting her. I knew the only reason was because she was innocent â off limits â and because she hated me.
I didn't know how to go about it. How did one actually pursue a girl without having sex first? I mean, I knew in theory that's how it worked, I'd just never actually done it before.
Dating?
Did I want to date?
I grabbed a beer from the fridge that the agency had stocked for me and sat on the couch, putting my head in my hands as I thought it through â like really thought it through until my head throbbed.
I didn't want to date her.
I kind of just wanted to⦠see her? Was that it? Hold her hand? Get her to forgive me? How creepy could I be?
I could see myself now, getting caught watching her with a huge-assed grin on my face.
I groaned. Hell, I had no idea what I wanted. Maybe it was just the fact that we'd left things so horribly. Okay, fine, I'd left things horribly.
Tomorrow. I'd think about it tomorrow. I snatched my phone and scrolled through my e-mail and original instructions from Peter.
To my utter horror â there was an e-mail from Peter⦠the subject? Your job while you âvacationâ in paradise.
He'd called it paradise to piss me off.
I clicked the e-mail and read through the instructions.
Then promptly threw my phone against the couch and punched the cushion with my fist over and over again.
It had to be a mistake.
It was a joke, right?
A joke. A joke. A joke. I tried to laugh.
No laugh came.
I was officially helping out with the Chamber of Commerce. My first stop? A church.
Here's to hoping I don't get struck by lightning the minute I step over the threshold.
I held up my beer into the air. âCheers.â