Come Away with Me (With Me in Seattle, #1)(26)

“No!” He comes around the bar, ignoring my warnings of staying back and grasps my shoulders in his hands.

His eyes are glacial, his face taut as if he’s in pain.

“No, Natalie. Nothing about us is a joke. And I did not f*ck you, I made love to you.”

I’m just so embarrassed.

“Everyone in the country knows who you are, Luke.”

“Not everyone,” he replies.

“You’re right; apparently I’m the only one who isn’t bright enough to recognize you.” I pull out of his grasp and back away. He drops his arms to his sides.

“Natalie,” Jules tries again, “Why would you know who he is? You never saw his movies.”

“His face is on millions of t-shirts, Jules! There are action figures in his likeness.”

Luke grimaces and turns away.

“Girls of all ages squeal just the way you did five minutes ago and lose their f*cking minds! It’s my f*cking job to know faces!

“God, I’m an idiot.” I’m so embarrassed, I just want to run. I want him gone. I want him to hold me and tell me it’s not true.

What the f*ck would he ever want with me? He can have anyone in the world. Literally.

“Nat…” Luke reaches out for me, but I pull away, ignoring the pain in his voice.

“Just go.”

“No, I don’t want to leave.” His beautiful face is in agony, mirroring mine. I fold my arms around myself to keep from reaching out to him.

“I don’t want you here. I can’t be with someone who lies to me.” Oh, just go.

“I didn’t lie! Natalie, that’s not my life anymore. Let’s talk about this.”

I’ve heard enough, and I just need to get away from him.

“I have a session in an hour, I need a shower, and I want you gone by the time I come out.”

“You’re overreacting!” His voice is manic, his eyes pleading with me.

“Get the f*ck out of my house!” I scream at him, hot tears falling down my face.

“Natalie, don’t do this…”

I turn and run up the stairs, through my room and into the bathroom, locking myself inside. I lean against the door and slide to the floor, my body convulsing as huge sobs wrack my body.

“Natalie, open the door.”

Fuck, he followed me.

“Just go away.” There’s no strength left in my voice. I just want him to go.

“I’m not going away, Goddamnit!

Open the f*cking door!”

“No!” I stand and lean my forehead on the door, my hands in fists and braced on the cool white wood.

“Natalie, so help me God, if you don’t open this door, I’ll break it down. Come out here and look at me.” His voice sounds ragged, and close to mine. And he’s really pissed. But so am I! I don’t respond, and suddenly Luke hits the wall to the left of the door.

“OPEN THE MOTHERFUCKING

DOOR!”

I still don’t respond; hot tears are rolling down my face.

“Fine, Nat, if you want to act like a child, fine. I don’t need this.” I hear him stomp out of my room and down the stairs.

How did I get myself in this mess?

How did I not recognize him? His hair is longer, and it’s been a good five years since the last movie came out, so his body has filled out more, and he’s older, but how could I not recognize that beautiful face?

Suddenly, I’m reminded of our talk when we had drinks at the pub. If I have to see one more movie trailer about vampires I’ll kill myself.

Oh God. Could this be any more humiliating?

Luke starred in three vampire movies that not only did well, but became such a huge sensation that you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing news about the stars, or merchandise of all kinds.

And I’ve just spent the past forty-eight hours falling in love with a man that is not only completely out of my league, I don’t even play the same sport.

Why didn’t he tell me? Why did he let me tell him all of my secrets, and he didn’t tell me any of his?

I sulk over to the tub and turn on the water. I have to pull myself together for my session. I cringe. Today’s client is a couple, and I’m going to have to take intimate photos of them, encourage them to love each other, be romantic.

Shit.

I shower quickly, but let the water spray on my face for a few extra seconds. I’m going to look horrible with red, puffy eyes.

After I’m dry and dressed, I blow my hair dry and secure it back in a bun. I examine my face. Yep, red, puffy eyes.

I don’t bother with makeup and pray that my eyes calm down in the next thirty minutes. I just have to get through this session, then I can ball up in my bed and cry for days if I want to. Just two hours to get through and not think of Luke.

I poke my head out of the bathroom but the bedroom is empty. Thank goodness. The wall next to the door where Luke hit it is unscarred. He didn’t hit it that hard. I go into the spare bedroom and peek out the front-facing window. Luke’s car is gone from the driveway.

He left.

Downstairs, Jules is still in the kitchen, a coffee mug in hand, tears in her eyes.

“Natalie, I’m so sorry.”

I hold my hands up in surrender. “It’s not your fault. I can’t talk about this right now, Jules. I have a session in a few minutes.”