Page 15 of How to Kiss a Movie Star
“Trespassing only carries a fine.Maybecommunity service,” I reason. “It’s not like I’d actually go to jail.”
“Youabsolutelycould go to jail,” Summer says. “Your sentence would be at the discretion of the judge, and with someone like Flint Hawthorne on the other side of the courtroom, I’m not sureanyjudge in Silver Creek would opt for leniency. It would only invite other creepers to Flint’s property, make them think that if you got away with it, they could too.”
“But I’m not a creeper,” I say.
“Tell it to the judge, honey,” Summer says.
I sigh, suddenly ready for this conversation—for my entire day—to be over. I move toward the hallway that leads to my bedroom. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Audrey,” Summer calls, and I turn around, one hand propped on the door jamb. “Just be careful,” she finishes. “No squirrel is worth losing your job.”
What job?I think to myself, but if I complain any more than I already have, one of them will inevitably tell Mom and Dad, and the next thing I know, my parents will be racing up from Florida to plant their RV right in the middle of my driveway,just in caseI happen to need them.
I love my parents. I do. But this isn’t a problem they, or my sisters, can solve.
Finally alone in my bathroom, I turn on my shower and drop onto the closed toilet seat to wait for the water to warm up. I turn on my favorite classical playlist, then tap my phone against my knee.
I don’treallycare that Flint Hawthorne is a movie star. I didn’t care when I met him earlier, and I don’t care now. But my sisters have made me curious.
I open Google and search for a celebrity’s name—something I have literally never done before.
Oh my.
There are a lot of hits.
I click over to images.
And so. many. pretty. pictures.
Flint posing with his shirt off.
Flint on the beach.
Flint beside stunningly beautiful women.
Flint besidemultiplebeautiful women.
Flint on a horse.
Oh, this is ridiculous. A horse?!
I’m about to close out the search when my eyes snag on a picture of him arm in arm with three men who all look enough like Flint, they must be his brothers. I click on the picture. If my sisters are correct, one of these men went to elementary school with me. Middle school, too.
I read through the caption, noting the names of each brother. Lennox Hawthorne is the only name that triggers my memory, but I can’t remember anything concrete, though that’s not all that surprising. Middle school wasn’t exactly an easy time for a nerdy kid like me. A lot of memories I blocked on purpose.
I stand up and put my phone on the bathroom counter, then look in the mirror, taking in my bare face. I reach up and pull out a twig that’s lodged in my hair, just above my ear.
What did Flint truly see when he looked at me today? Was he genuinely interested in seeing me smile? Or was it just a game? Is flirting something he does because he can? Because he’s so used to women fawning all over him?
Lucy’s laugh from earlier echoes in my mind.
Either way, she’s right. Whatever his motive at the Feed ’n Seed, whatever made him lookonce,I amnotthe kind of woman a man like Flint Hawthorne would look at twice.
A gnawing discomfort settles in my chest.
I’m a biologist. Dedicated to science and research and way too enthusiastic about most forms of wildlife.
Most of the time, it’s enough.
