Page 3 of No Interest in Love

I slip into the shallow end and start a lap because if I don’t do something I’m just the creepy twenty-five-year-old guy hanging out in the pool with the honeymooners.

When I pop out of the water after two or three goes, I wipe my face off and notice the redheaded female honeymooner staring at me. I dart my gaze somewhere else, but there’s nowhere to look other than at the old lady in the hot tub, who would still look dead if she wasn’t groaning like a mutated Budweiser frog every few seconds. I consider hoisting myself out and heading back upstairs, but given the choice between here and the room, I’ll take awkwardness with the newly married redhead over listening to Shay nag me about the dos and don’ts of screen tests.

“An ass double,psh,” I whisper to myself, squirting water across the pool with my hands. The redhead’s stare is burning a hole into my temple. Yeah, I’m talking to myself, but didn’t anyone ever tell her only to stare if she’s flirting? Lady, your husband isright there. And I’m only interested in ménages of the 2:1 girl ratio. Call me a prude.

I dive back under the water and swim two more laps, but since I’m more or less doggy-paddling, I stop and float, until a splash across my face sends me upright, and I run my hand over my eyes before opening them to the couple.

“Dude, what the hell?” I ask the guy, who obviously sent water my way to get my attention. He smiles and jerks his head toward his girl.

“Sorry. Settle an argument for us?”

I raise an eyebrow, considering just leaving the pool in case the dude is some psycho sent to get me right before I catch my big break.

“Are you an actor?” the redhead (aka: Miss Staring Married Woman I Should Not Be Checking Out) asks.

My neck jerks back a little in surprise. “Uh…yeah.”

She turns to her husband. “Toldyou.” Then she swims to the edge of the pool and hoists herself out. It takes me five seconds before I realize I’m checking out this guy’s wife’s ass right in front of him. Man, what did I just tell myselfnotto do?Come on, Jace, you’ve gotoneday and you’ll be with Carletta Ocean, pinking up these balls. You can make it.

“We caughtThe Walking Stifflast night,” the dude says, not fazed by my wandering eyes. “Hilarious stuff, man.”

“Oh…yeah, thanks.”

“You do autographs?”

A smile tilts my lips. I’ve never been asked for one before. The dude nods at his wife, and I check her out again while she towels off her chest. It’s an involuntary twitch caused by Sandman Pants.

I clear my throat and force myself to look at the dude. “Uh, hell yeah, I do autographs. You got a pen?”

He laughs and calls out, “Hey, Linds, go see if they have Sharpies at the front desk!” She nods, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she hurries off.

“Sorry, first time we’ve met a celebrity,” the guy says, then pushes himself up on the edge of the pool.

“I was on the Syfy network,” I say with a chuckle, pulling myself up to sit next to him, keeping quite a bit of distance between us. “Not really anything to freak out about.”

“I don’t know.” He stares at the foggy glass wall. “Most of the acting on that channel is…well…”

He makes a face, and I laugh, coughing a bit from the chlorine in the air.

“You were better, though,” he adds.

“Good to hear.” Though the acting was supposed to be a bit exaggerated.

“I’m Travis, by the way,” he says, extending his hand. I grab it and shake hard.

“Jace…on. Jason.”

“That your real name or did you change it?”

I smirk at the water. “Yeah, I’m still getting used to it.” Good thing he reminded me. I would’ve signed the name that’s not going to be famous.

A tremor rolls through my arm, making my right hand shake against my leg. Damn it. The anxiety before writing (or reading) anything is premature this time. I grip the edge of the pool to steady it.

“Dig your ink,” he says, nodding to the Wolverine tat on my ribs. “You get it done here in LA?”

I grin, silently thanking the Screenwriter of the Universe for a distraction. “New York. Freshman year of college. Needs a touch-up.”

“Been thinking of getting one, but the artists I can afford kind of suck. So I’m waiting on it.”

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