Sofie and the Movie Star: A Lovestruck Short Story (Lovestruck #3.5)(6)

He smiled, but it seemed a little weak to me. Had he hoped I wouldn’t recognize him? But then it seemed to brighten as the song changed to something a little slower. Was I imagining that he was pulling me slightly closer?

“I have to tell you, Sofie. I’ve been watching you all night.”

His words sent little sparks of shock through me. So I hadn’t been making it up. But why? Before I could stop myself, I blurted out that very question.

“Why?”

He smiled that movie star smile of his and I swear it was enough to make my knees weak. He was close enough that I could smell his aftershave, could see the darker flecks of blue in his icy eyes. His arms around me were strong and steady—a good thing, because I was feeling distinctly unstable.

“Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen a face as expressive as yours.”

Hmm. Expressive. I would have rather he would have used a word closer to beautiful, but I supposed expressive wasn’t too bad. At least he hadn’t said he’d never seen someone as gigantic as me.


“I couldn’t look away during the ceremony,” he went on, his voice lowering a little bit, making my heart beat faster. “I watched you watching your cousin, and then her parents. And I could see it—the love you felt for them, the happiness in your face. Something like… relief, maybe? And then you looked at someone else and your expression completely changed—you were angry and frustrated… ” He trailed off, looking down into my eyes. I was holding my breath, completely under his spell. “But you also looked fierce. Unapologetic.” He laughed and I finally let out my breath, feeling like expressive was a pretty good adjective after all. “I kept thinking that if I could somehow replicate that kind of pure emotional expression I’d be an Oscar winner in no time.

“Wow,” I whispered, completely overwhelmed. He hadn’t just noticed me during the ceremony, he had studied me.

“And,” he went on, that dangerous smile deepening, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you are.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, staring up at him with what I was sure was an attractive expression of slack-jawed disbelief. He laughed and the sound made the little hairs on my arms stand up. How could something so simple as a laugh be so sexy? And how could someone so sexy think that I was beautiful?

Suddenly I had a flash of memory—Lizzie rolling her eyes while talking about Jackson. He’s a terrible flirt, she had said. Totally full of himself.

“I mean it,” he said, pushing on my waist gently so I would start to move to the music once more.

“That’s… I mean… it’s ridiculous,” I stammered.

It was Jackson’s turn to stop dancing to look down at me, his eyebrows furrowed. “Why do you say that?”

Suddenly, I felt sick, Lizzie’s dismissive attitude about Thomas’s co-star fresh in my mind. What had she said? He flirts with anything that moves. Was this a game for him? Find the most desperate girl at the party and hit on her?

“I should probably get back to my family.” I started to pull away but the look of disappointment on Jackson’s face was so strong I paused. He’s an actor, I reminded myself. You need to be careful.

“Please, finish the dance with me.”

“I… Okay.”

He was quiet for only a moment. “Why did you say that it was ridiculous? For me to call you beautiful?”

“Because… look at me!”

That grin again, just a hint now playing around his mouth. “I am. I have been.”

“So you clearly see a bloated, pregnant, waddling, klutz who—”

“Hey.” He looked honestly upset. Again I tried to remind myself that he got paid to make people think he felt a certain way. “Don’t say that about yourself. It’s not true, first of all—”

“It is true,” I countered. “I’m more than six months pregnant.”

“But that doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t give me the whole pregnant woman glow thing. I really can’t take it.”

His frown disappeared. “There it is again. That fierce look I saw in the church.”

“Well, I mean—”

But he cut me off. “I don’t know about a glow, all right? But I do know that you’re beautiful. And I’m somewhat of an expert when it comes to beauty.” He winked. “People make kind of a big deal about it in my line of work.”

“Yes, well, that’s my point!” It was the most surreal thing—arguing with a movie star. “You spend all day with some of the most beautiful women in entertainment. Thin, perfect actresses who look nothing like me.”

“That’s a good thing.”

I shook my head, convinced more than ever that he was playing a game. “This is silly.”

“Look, most of the people I know are completely fake. Plastic. All hard edges and blank faces.” He shook his head and suddenly he didn’t look so much like the perfect movie star I had always known him to be. His face was softer, somehow. Like the facade he normally wore was a bit more transparent. “Everyone hides behind their little masks and no one ever says anything real.” He paused, swallowing, looking almost embarrassed. “In five seconds of looking at you I knew you weren’t hiding anything. And in five minutes of talking to you, you’ve said more to me that’s real than any of the actresses you think are so perfect.”