I stood in line for security and checked my cell.
Demetri and Alec had yet to text me back. Bastards.
Sighing, I went to text them again just as someone bumped into my arm.
“Sorry,” the soft feminine voice said.
I looked up and paused. Her eyes were a golden brown. The type of brown that looked odd against dark skin, it was almost chocolate but not dark enough to blend in with her pupils. I must have been staring because she cleared her throat.
I shook my head and waved her off. “It’s cool.”
“Well, as long as it’s cool,” she murmured.
“Pardon?” I turned.
“Uh…” Her cheeks stained pink. “Nothing. Sorry, just talking to myself, nervous habit.”
Grinning, I leaned in. “You have a reason to be nervous?”
Her eyes left mine as she slowly checked me out, shoes to head, and then very simply said, “Nope.”
What the freaking hell? I glared, slightly irritated that she didn’t pause or at least blush. She was shitting me, right? Did she freaking know who I was? I jerked off my sunglasses and gave her the stare. You know, the one that literally causes a teenage scream to echo throughout the known universe, making parents want to stab me with sharp objects.
And nothing.
Not even crickets.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked… possibly with more than a little arrogance.
“You having trouble remembering your name or something?” She put her stuff on the conveyor belt and laughed. Yup, laughed at me.
“Of course not.” I snorted. “You know what, never mind.” I waved her off again just as I took off my jacket and put it in the bin. I put my new Rolex in one of the smaller trays, took off my Mark Nason boots and stomped through security, only to have the annoying as hell alarm go off.
Groaning, I stepped back out as the man with the giant torture stick examined me. It beeped when it went across the button of my jeans.
“Probably my button,” I said.
The girl who I’d just been talking to sighed and crossed her arms. Right, I knew I was holding up the line, I wasn’t an idiot, but I couldn’t control the stupid security guy with a power trip.
“Sir,” said the TSA dude with a nod toward my waist. “You can either strip here or strip in a private room. Either way, you need to take off the pants.”
“You’re joking, right?” I laughed. “Am I being Punk’d or something? What the hell?”
“No, sir, this is not a joke. Take off the pants.”
I looked back at the man and swore.
Was this legal? I mean, I flew all the time, I’d never had to take off my pants before.
“Sir…” The man groaned. “People are waiting. Just take off your damn pants and you can be on your way.”
My agent’s warnings went off like an alarm in my brain. I had to be the good guy, not the ass. With a smile that felt so cheesy I wanted to shoot myself, I nodded and began taking off my damn pants in the middle of LAX. Ten bucks said I’d make the nightly news.
Once my jeans were at my ankles. The guy nodded. He scanned my shirt and it beeped. What the hell it hadn’t beeped before? I gave him a helpless look as he sighed and crossed his arms. “Shirt too, I’m afraid.”
“What the hell, man?”
He was immobile. Just stared. By now people were going into different lines to avoid my strip tease.
Shit.
I quickly pulled the shirt over my head.
I was officially standing in nothing but black Diesel boxer briefs in the middle of LAX. Really what else could go wrong?
And then I heard laughter.
Male laughter.
A camera crew came flying at me, followed by Demetri and Alec.
Son of a bitch!
I should have yelled, but all I could do was laugh my ass off as I pulled up my pants and shook my head.
“You…” Alec said as he slapped me on the shoulder. “Have officially been Punk’d.”
I shook my head and looked at the camera saying, “Hi, I’m Jamie Jaymeson and I’ve been Punk’d”
The crew continued filming while I punched Demetri in the arm and rolled my eyes at Alec. We quickly walked through security as tons of cameras went off.
“Hold up.” I grabbed my belongings and followed them through the airport. LA was cool like that. For the most part, people stared and they took pictures, but they never really approached that much — especially if you were with an entourage. Now that Demetri and Alec had shown up though, I knew it was only a matter of time before the three of us were trending on Twitter.
“Hilarious,” I said once we were in the Delta Airlines Club Room.
“I almost pissed myself, I laughed so hard.” Demetri plopped into the large leather chair and spread his arms behind his head “We’ve been planning it for weeks but with the tour and stuff, it started to look like it might not happen, then your agent called and—”
“My agent called to tell you what exactly? That my life was over if I didn’t stop sleeping around? Great to know he’s got my back with the secrecy.”
“Hey!” Alec held up his hands. “Not to be an ass, but he said it would help further the whole innocent thing, you stripping at the airport looking all innocent while people took your picture. Humiliating. You’re welcome.”
“Haven’t you guys done enough to me?” I got up from my seat and grabbed a bottle of beer before sitting back down. “I mean I have exactly two months to clean up my act. The decision’s going to be made, and I want that part. Thanks to you two, my entire whorish escapades were filmed this last summer for the world to see. Apparently,” I said, shrugging. “I’m a whore-addicted Neanderthal.”
“Who uses that word anymore?” Demetri asked. “And not that it matters, but you agreed to the reality show. Not our fault you decided to use it as a platform for beating the Guinness world record for how many girls you could sleep with at once.”
“Whatever.” I picked at the label on the bottle. “I just want to make movies.”
“Then play nice,” Alec said. “Do the little dance they want you to do, let the puppet play you, and move on. It’s only two months, and Seaside is really nice this time of year.”
“If you say nice one more time I’m going to break my beer bottle on your head.” I groaned. “And it’s not nice. Seaside is anything but nice. I seem to remember two rock stars texting me like crazy when they had to move there for the summer, and I don’t get a partner in crime. Nope, it’s just me.”