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“I’m supposed to invite you out.”
I finished rolling up my mat and turned around. The only other guy in the class stood beside me, lifting a water bottle to his mouth and squirting in a stream before swallowing. He was dark haired and in his mid-thirties. While he gave yoga his best efforts for the hour-long class, he sucked. Not that I checked him out, but he had to be one of the least flexible people I’ve seen, and he sweated like he ran a marathon instead of attempting an hour of vinyasa flow.
“Oh?” I countered.
He didn’t sound thrilled to be offering this invitation.
He thumbed over his shoulder. “Mallory’s dying to meet you.” He scratched his sweaty head. “In fact, I think I’m going to have to be careful going down the stairs because she may take me out just to get to you. There was some kind of mention of a hall pass, but I have no clue what the fuck that means.”
I bit my lip because this guy was grumpy as hell, but when his gaze shifted to the woman, I assumed was Mallory–and very clearly his woman–his look heated and filled with blatant love.
“I think it’s when a woman has the hots for a famous guy she assumes she’ll never meet, but if she does, she’s got permission from her man to cheat with him.”
His brown eyes were back on mine and narrowed. I could be the one thrown down the stairs. I held up my hands. “I didn’t invent it. Women did, obviously. And I have no interest in being anyone’s hall pass.”
That meant some woman wanted to fuck Shep Barnes, not me. I didn’t fuck in character.
He sighed, then held out his hand. “Theo James.”
“I’m–”
“Shep Barnes. I know. I’m a trauma surgeon. A real one. I’ve learned a thing or two from you. Didn’t even know what a triple craniectomy was until Mallory made me watch the first season of NYC ER during a blizzard in February. Hell, a triple craniectomy and doing one with a ballpoint pen? Mad skills.”
His lips twitched and I assumed that was a smile.
I shook my head. “Glad I could help the medical community. Name’s actually Luke and yeah, the ballpoint pen technique took twenty takes to perfect. No med school needed.”
He grinned outright.
“Since you’ve been eyeing Aspen the way I eye my woman, I don’t feel like I need to pull out my scalpel to finish you off. Have you met Daniel yet?”
I shook my head.
“He and his brothers run the local landscape company. They have a woodchipper.”
I swallowed, because he was one serious, very possessive dude. Scalpel? Woodchipper? I believed that he’d finish me in an unpleasant way if I even thought about Mallory, which I assumed was the blonde currently talking to Aspen. I couldn’t help who had a celebrity crush. If his woman had the hots for a character I portrayed, that was his problem, not mine.
Theo didn’t know this happened to me all the time. I wasn’t going to tell him that since it only made me sound like a jackass. Plus, if I did, it made Mallory look like one in a million, which she definitely wasn’t.
A guy being possessive, I could understand. Even pissing a circle around his woman would be reasonable. But threatening me with a fucking woodchipper because I was famous? I didn’t need that shit.
“Look, like I said, my name’s Luke, not Shep,” I began. “I’m here for Aspen and since she hasn’t pushed me down the stairs, you’ve got to give me some credit for being a decent guy. Hell, at least not an asshole. If you can’t separate me from my job, then I’ll pass on the invite.”
I’d had enough of this scenario today. Sam called earlier and sent more screenshots of various gossip sites talking about me in rehab and the debate over whether it was alcohol or drugs I needed help with. Then it went on to show photos of me where I may have been high in the past few weeks, which were instead ridiculous–and horrible–candids taken of me in LA over the past few months.
He wanted me back in LA pronto to fix this shit, except there was nothing to fix. People were going to think what people were going to think.
Theo was like Sam. I wasn’t going to stoop to perception. I crossed my arms over my sweaty chest and waited.
He studied me, then nodded. “You’ll do.”
I nodded back. “Good. Trust me, I’ve only got eyes for Aspen,” I admitted. “Why do you think I took the class?”
“Because you like yoga?” he countered, shaking his head with man-shame. “It’s clear you’ve done it before, and you even did that stupid Bird Of Paradise pose without snapping a joint. Another reason to hate you. I’m here to see my woman do bendy shit in tight pants. Nothing else.”
“Exactly.” I held up my hands. “I play a doctor on TV. I have no fucking clue what a craniectomy is. I’m an excellent memorizer and I have decent hair. Unlike you with advanced degrees and real lifesaving skills, that’s all I’ve got going for me.” He didn’t look too convinced. “Plus, I live in LA. It’s pretty much a law to live there that you have to do yoga.”
“Good. Then join us for pizza. We’re headed downstairs and others are meeting up with us. Since you’re new in town, you’ve been adopted.”
