Starstruck Read Online Paige Laurens

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors: Paige Laurens Advertisement1

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Yep, he’s still completely intimidating.

I unintentionally let out a loud sigh, and he looks up. My eyes land on his lips as I’m rendered self-conscious, wondering if he can hear my heart beating a million miles a minute, especially as out of nowhere his nonchalant expression transforms into the biggest grin I’ve ever seen, teeth and all. I quickly look away, realizing that I’ll finally get my chance to see those spectacular green eyes up close... but I’m not ready.

Oh god I think I thought this would never in a million years happen and now that it is I don’t know if I can handle it.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

I immediately avert my gaze and focus on his forehead, his hair, his ears; I try to find a flaw that would make this less overwhelming.

I settled on his mouth again.

Oops.

Bad choice. He’s still grinning.

Why is he smiling so wide?

Even his lips are unnaturally wonderful, and damn, his smile is contagious. I feel myself redden as I beam back, completely forgetting why I’m even here.

Eventually he clears his throat and I realize I’m still standing like a huge idiot. I briskly make my way to the chair in front of him, gently feeling my purse for the paper with my questions, recalling all the stupid things I have to ask.

Then my hands start to shake.

Please don’t notice.

I take out the tape recorder, my anxiety in full swing, knowing how awkward and ridiculous these interviews can be, especially with someone like me who doesn't really do this.

I fumble as I insert a new tape and then press the record button. Finally I ball my hands between my legs, hoping to stop the trembling.

Just breathe. Okay, here goes.

“Hi, I’m Liesl from Teen Scene. Can you start by telling me how your character has developed since the first movie?”

It’s a dumb question. Everyone who has read the famous book series already knows the answer.

“Liesl. That’s a brilliant name,” his British accent is powerful, and I swoon the second my name leaves his lips. “Have we met before?”

What?

I’m shocked, stunned, dazed, astounded; you name it, that’s me. He can’t possibly remember our very brief encounter five years ago…. can he?

Naturally I’m speechless and say nothing.

He lets out a small laugh and shakes his head.

"I’m Asher." He puts his phone down and offers his hand, but my mind is currently replaying that stupid moment when I asked to shake his hand that time outside the Broadway theater.

Is he mocking me?

I tell myself not to be that stupid. He’s most likely just being polite. There’s no way he remembers meeting me that one time so long ago, but good job, Liesl, for thinking you’ve made that big of an impression on someone like him, especially in such a miniscule time span, or ever.

I can be so dumb.

I place my hand in his. It’s smooth, and not at all sweaty like mine. His handshake is strong, also the complete opposite of my very pathetic and weak hold. I start to pull away, but he tightens his grip, waiting for me to respond. I forgot he said something about liking my name.

“Than-” I start to reply, but he awkwardly interrupts.

“I played Rolfe on Broadway for a month.”

I wonder if I should tell him he was amazing in it, and that yes, we’ve met before outside that very theater.

I don’t.

The less I seem like a stalker the better.

“Is it after someone?” he prods, his hand just now leaving mine.

“It’s from, you know, The Sound Of Music,” I roll my eyes. “My parents saw the movie on their first date.” I subtly rub my sweaty hands against my skirt, attempting to dry them. Then I notice him staring with an odd expression and abruptly stop.

“So, your character…” my voice trails off. Crap! I don’t know where to put my hands now! Why have I never thought about this before? What do I normally do? I suddenly can’t remember! I look up, his gaze still on me, ignoring my half question.

“Is this the magazine?” he grabs the issue sticking out of my purse, and I finally settle my hands gently to my sides.

Does this make me look too gorilla-y now? I think so.

I place them back between my legs.

“Uh…”

Yes, that’s my response.

I hear a noise and look over as the tight haired lady hovers in the doorway, still on her phone.

“Yeah,” I offer a better answer, all while stopping the recording just so I can actually do something useful with my hands. I can’t record this nonsense anyway. “Yes, that’s the magazine,” I reply more confidently. Asher says nothing, and I study his face as he fumbles through the issue.

Does he get his eyebrows waxed?

They're so neat and clean! I look down at his legs - hairy.

Why are his eyebrows so perfect?


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