Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“So this is what all the teens are all talking about, huh?” he smiles, interrupting my thoughts. “Oh, who’s hating on me?” He vigorously turns the page like he can’t finish the story fast enough, and all I can do is stare, his sultry voice captivating. It’s smooth, with a hint of arrogance, and he keeps looking up, almost like he’s waiting for me to gush all over him, or answer.
My gaze suddenly lands on the recorder, a harsh reminder that I don’t have time for this! I need him to answer my questions... if only I weren’t so tongue-tied and if only he was less distracting!
Ah, I know!
Five Life’s Mission!
It's this stupid game Jess and I made up in high school to convince us of something - to date a guy, to not date a guy, to buy a cute dress, and I know it will work as it’s never steered me astray before. I just need to find Asher's imperfection. It will make him appear less intimidating and therefore I'll be less of a hot mess.
For the next five minutes finding Asher’s biggest blemish is my life’s mission. Surely he must have a horrible pimple, scar, or weird birthmark somewhere, and I’m determined to find it.
Here we go.
But a moment later he looks up and catches me gawking, and oh god, I saw them. I saw his eyes! They really are so green, like emeralds.
He clears his throat and waits for me to respond, only I didn’t hear what he said. I quickly flash a smile, and he shakes his head in amusement before returning to the magazine. He’s really into it too, and instantly I'm embarrassed by what I do, even though it’s not me who writes all that stupid stuff, but he doesn’t know that.
“Look, it’s just a job,” I laugh, “and one I’m not currently doing very well.” I lean forward and grab the magazine from him. “So, um, can you tell me about your character?” I press the record button again, but Asher reaches and takes the magazine back, and the whole gesture catches me off guard.
“You don’t like your job?” he makes a face.
I press the stop button again and smile wide. I found it, his imperfection, and with still three minutes to go!
He’s cocky, just like everyone says he is.
I can see it in the way he pompously sits there and stares. It’s obvious he thinks the world revolves around him. Even now how he grabbed the magazine, eager to read about himself. He’s not answering any of my questions, and his whole attitude reeks of self-righteousness, like he’s waiting for me to tell him how much I want him.
He likes the attention.
I’m slightly disappointed, but not surprised. I’ve heard rumors, but now that I see it myself the whole thing irks me. Who does he think he is?
Asher Montgomery, duh!
I narrow my stare.
“Do you enjoy playing a eighteen year old, even though you’re what, twenty-eight? That’s really academy-award worthy,” I roll my eyes, and he freezes, which causes me to instantly regret my words.
I sounded like a jerk.
Ugh, now I’m being a bitch! How does that make me any better than him?
“Point taken,” he slowly places the magazine down with one hand while pressing the record button with the other. “My character’s name is Devon, as most people know from the first movie. He’s still the same fool, but has a lot more to deal with this time around. He has to make choices he’s never had to make before. Does he want to stay a vampire and be with his family, or take the cure to be with the love of his life?”
The cure, obviously!
With a satisfied expression he picks up the magazine again.
“Tyler Lake is hating on me? Impossible! I just saw him last week,” he weakly chuckles.
“Can you just, like, focus?” I sigh.
“Are you hating on me now too?” he smiles, and I can't help it, I giggle. The sound comes out of nowhere, and I feel stupid for doing it. Then our eyes meet, and crap, his sparkle, and I completely drown in them.
“What?” he smiles, but I just shake my head and snap out of it.
Remember, he’s a self-centered jerk and all the rumors are true!
Only he doesn't seem like it, not right now, not with a gaze as soft as the one he's giving.
Focus!
“Just stop saying, ‘hating on me,’ you sound ridiculous.” I bite my lip to hide a smile and force myself to look down at my list of questions. Then I clear my throat. “What do you do during your down time on set?”
“I don’t stay on set,” he laughs, and I look up. “I like to go on tours of the island. The other day I went scuba div-”
My phone beeps and he stops talking. I offer an apologetic smile and ignore it. “Sorry, keep going.”