Page 64 of Dumbstruck
The reporter laughs, and then her attention finally turns to me. “June,” she says, because of course she knows my name, “I have to ask. What’s it like dating someone who is quickly becoming one of the best actors in Hollywood?”
Jonah ran through some of the questions I might get asked tonight, and I’m so glad this was on his list because I have a ready answer prepared. “I wouldn’t know,” I say, leaning into the microphone. “For me, Jonah is just a regular guy, and I sometimes forget he’s famous because when we’re together, he’s the same cheesy dork he was when I met him.”
“June is the best thing to ever happen to me,” Jonah says and kisses my temple. “She keeps me grounded, and I can’t imagine life without her anymore.”
“Good answer,” I murmur, beaming up at him.
The interviews continue as we make our way down the red carpet, all of them much like the first, until the last one, when the reporter asks Jonah if they’ll be seeing more of me now that our relationship is out in the public.
“Our relationship is and always will be private,” Jonah says without hesitation, and my heart melts. “I’ll love those days when June is willing to join me here in Hollywood, but I’ll always love more when it’s just the two of us together. She’s my home, and that’s not something I’m willing to share.”
Dang. I’m left just as speechless as the guy with the microphone, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to start crying because that was the most perfect response I’ve ever heard.
“I have to like him, don’t I?” a soft voice says behind me, and I turn to find Hank, who must have gone ahead of Bonnie because she’s deep in conversation with a reporter and Derek Riley of all people. That explains the paparazzi chaos, if Derek is here. “Jonah James is a good guy, isn’t he?”
I tuck an arm around Hank as we both watch Jonah continue to discuss the movie. It sounds like he’s shut down any more talk about our relationship, and I’ve never liked Jonah more. “He’s kind of the best,” I say with a lovesick sigh.
Hank chuckles and returns my side hug. “I’ll admit I was pleasantly surprised by his performance in the end.”
I smirk. “You loved him. Admit it.”
“He wasn’t as good as Bonnie.”
“You are way too biased to make that claim, McAllister. Of course you think your wife was a better actor than my…”
Hank raises an eyebrow. “Than your what?”
I look at Jonah again, who seems to feel my gaze because he turns right then and sends me a smile that warms me from my head to my toes. I don’t know what kind of label to put on him, but I don’t care. He’s mine, and that’s all that matters.
“Why did we get ourselves mixed up in this madness?” I ask instead of answering the question. “We gave up our quiet lives for what?”
Hank laughs and reaches out his hand as Bonnie approaches, her smile wide. “For love,” he says simply and follows his wife down the red carpet.
“For love,” I repeat, feeling my own grin stretch as Jonah looks back at me again.
Definitely for love.
Jonah
Three months later
This might be the first year I don’t care about not being nominated for any Oscars. Most years, I sit on my couch in sweats and eat an entire pizza in misery, wondering if I’ll ever be the one making faces at the camera as I wait to see if I’ll be the next one standing on the stage, holding a golden statue.
This year, I’m cuddled up with June on her couch, Samson asleep on my legs and Hank’s latest book open on June’s Kindle between us. Richie is out on a date, of all things, which makes everything about tonight feel so different from my usual day-to-day. So normal.
I wish we were doing something else, though. Because filming for my last project ended early, I’ve been in Laketown for two weeks already, but I never feel like I get enough time with June. I try not to waste what time we do get. Not that reading is a waste of time, but I prefer other activities. Still, June was excited to read the final version of the book, and I’m man enough to admit I’m almost as interested as she is. My character may have only been in the first book, but I’m dying to know how the series is going to end.
“Oh my gosh,” June says in a low voice, probably so she doesn’t wake the cat. “How are you this slow of a reader?”
I dig my fingers into her side, teasing a giggle out of her before I tap the Kindle to turn the page. “Maybe I’m just trying to draw out the suspense.”
“The whole point of suspense is the pacing, but if you’re going to read at a snail’s pace, then I’m going to pull it up on my phone and read it by myself.”
“But then you’ll spoil the ending for me!” I complain.
I’m not really complaining. June could tell me flat out how the book ends, and I would still love her more than anything.
“Tell you what,” I say, shifting in my seat so I can pull her closer and get in a better position. Samson opens his ugly yellow eyes to glare at me, but he’s quick to fall back asleep on my legs. “You read at the pace you want, and if I miss things, you’ll just have to fill me in.”
