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The thing that got me though was when a teenager in a wheelchair came in for his picture. His mom accompanied him and she shyly stood off to the side. There was nothing but pride and excitement in her eyes, seeing her son meet his idol.
And Jake didn’t disappoint. He dropped to one knee and chatted with the kid at eye level. Jake made an effort to be his equal. The two discussed the pose, I snapped the pictures and then Jake invited the mom over to join in. She protested, putting her hands in the air, saying she didn’t want to ruin the experience.
She was adorable in her Peyton Powell costume, wig and all.
“Come on Mom, it’ll be fun,” the kid encouraged. She made a split-second decision and joined Jake and her son. At the last minute, Jake leaned down and asked her a question. The woman nodded and in the time it took for me to put the camera back up to my eye, he had scooped her up in a fireman’s carry.
The squeal that escaped her was pure joy.
Jake was good with people.
And it was sort of hot.
He had a way of coaxing people out of their shells—some were either so shy or too starstruck to utter a word to him once they got there, but he put them at ease and always gave them a hug at the end.
When I had asked him if he ever felt violated, he had told me no and admitted it was just part of the job and that he enjoyed it.
It made me think. Perspective was a funny thing that was one-sided, more often than not. But I had a feeling that Jake put himself in the shoes of his fans and only did what he’d want and expect from his own favorite character.
Our dinner conversation had been light and fun. I wasn’t even bothered that it was more or less just the two of us.
It was intimate without feelingintimate. It was casual and flirtatious. It was enlightening and eye opening.
But by the time I had stuffed my face (probably not my best move), I had grown super tired. Digesting the smorgasbord did nothing to help either.
I excused myself and tried to keep it casual when I told him I’d see him around. It wasn’t necessary to suggest anything more, right? It hadn’t been a date, right? I also didn’t want him to feel obligated about anything.
When my head hit my pillow, it was impossible for me to think of anything but him.
The next dayfelt more like a routine. The job wasn’t hard, so it was easy to get into a rhythm of sorts.
Halfway through, the schedule changed though. Instead of shooting Jake’s VIP ops from 3:30 to 5PM, it changed to Lauren Seidel.
There was a small amount of disappointment I felt when I had heard, but it’s not like it was personal.
Earlier, Jake would catch me looking at him and there were a few instances when I felt his eyes on me. I hadn’t dared to look when I was facing him sideways, taking a drink from my soda or when I’d check the time on my phone every so often.
It was an unspoken game of looking at one another without the other seeing. And we both failed miserably.
What I did know though, was I’d totally be down to hang out with him again. I just didn’t see a likely opening to ask. There was always somebody around, especially his assistant.
I’d just have to wait and see if an opportunity presented itself.
Chapter 11
Jake
Portland
There was somethingabout being in the Pacific Northwest during the summer. You got to reap the benefits of the sun and warmth without dying of heatstroke from a terrible amount of humidity.
Stepping out a back door of the hotel, I took in the atmosphere of the night. A constant but not unbearable cacophony of cars and buses drowned anything else out, if there even had been something else to hear downtown.
The hotel was close to the river; I could see it, but again, nothing pleasantly audible drifted my way.
After being inside and surrounded by upwards of forty thousand fans each day, it was hard not to feel like a sardine in a tin can. I wasn’t complaining, but it could quickly turn into a taxing environment.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Sliding it open, I had a text from Liam.
