Falling Without Caution

Chapter 2 ~ Elise

  "No."

    His jaw practically disconnects from the rest of his face.

    "Did you seriously think I would help you after what a pain in the ass you've been?" I scoff. This man is ridiculous. Absolutely, stupendously, stupid. So why do I feel compelled to give him a hand?

    He glares at me.

    "Why the heck not? I thought you were Mrs. Sunshine?" he jibes, imitating one of the interviewers I had last week... hold up a second, he watches my interviews? I blink in shock for a split second before returning to my death stare.

    "No means no. Get lost, Liam." I roll my eyes at him and shove the door shut but he keeps pushing it open with his pointer and middle finger. With two. Goddamn. Fingers.

    "Stop flexing and get the hell out," I hiss, trying not to yell and bring Mom into this. He simply steps closer to me.

    "Liam..." I warn.

    "Please, Elise," he pleads, his eyes softening off-set for the first time I have ever witnessed, "I'll do anything. Just, please, please, please at least hear me out."

    Liam, begging? Now, this, I can get used to. I raise my eyebrows. Both eyebrows. If only I could figure out how to get just one of them to go up by itself... yikes, I'm getting sidetracked again. Focus, Elise, focus.

    "Fine." I stop shoving him away and prop the door open with my foot. "You have forty-five seconds to plead your case, and then I'm slamming the door shut or getting my mom. Understood?"

    The look of relief that passes his face is so soft and sudden that I feel like we're back on set and he's Max once more. What has gotten into me today? This is Liam, an absolute asshole, prick, and total piece of work. I'm simply sleepy. Right, that's definitely it. I swear I'm not one of those dumb heroines in a fantasy novel and oblivious to my feelings. I'm genuinely just tired. Ugh, should've listened to Mom and gone to bed.

    Liam stares at me expectantly and I just blink at him. Shoot, did I zone out? I curse under my breath.

    "Uhm, repeat yourself, please?" I ask, sheepishly. The moron has the nerve to groan. Oh, what I would do to have a sock to shove in his mouth right about now.

    "As I was saying," he rolls his eyes, "I need you to," he hides his face under his dark brown hair. Did I mention that he has bangs? Normally I would say they're a complete ick on a guy, but he manages to pull them off. They compliment his even darker eyes somehow.

    "Oh, fudge, let me just get this over with. The movie is this close to being canceled."

    I gape at him.

    "You're kidding, right?"

    He blinks at me like I'm the dumbest woman he's ever met.

    "Do I ever kid about anything?"

    "No? Shoot, you're serious aren't you?"

    "The director gave me two options about..." he pauses, checking his watch, "An hour ago. Either me and you pull off some sort of publicity stunt or the film is off."

    It takes me a couple of seconds to remember how to make my mouth function.

    "Well, what are you suggesting we do?" I ask him anxiously, twirling my hair around my finger, a nervous habit I picked up from my mom.

    "I researched it, you know, what makes films more popular, and..." he groans, "We're gonna have to, you and I, we'll need to, uhm," he stammers, at a loss for words for the first time since I met him two months ago.