Forcing Gravity

By Monica Alexander

Raised by her father on the East Coast, Logan Kessler, was as far-removed as she could be from the world of Hollywood where her mother, an A-List actress, made a name for herself. Only gaining snippets of what life in Hollywood was like from the summers she spent with her mom, she didn’t know how much she didn’t want to be a part of that world until her face was splayed across the tabloids linking her to up-and-coming actor, Garrett Lewis, a friend from her childhood who was just that – a friend.

But the paparazzi seem to think otherwise. So when she moves to Los Angeles to attend the University of Southern California, Logan just wants to lay low and avoid the celebrity scene as much as she can. But that becomes harder than she thinks when she meets the famous Jason “Jase” Brady at a party. Of course all of her assumptions about one of the most sought-after young actors in Hollywood are shot down when she realizes that Jase is one of the sweetest, most unassuming, adorable guys she’s ever met, and he’s so down to earth. How could she not like him?

But in Hollywood, appearances can be deceiving. Jase has secrets in his past that he knows could come back to haunt him at any moment. He can’t leave his house without getting swarmed by women who want a piece of him, and the paparazzi seem to always be lying in wait to capture his every move. Logan soon realizes that dating one of the hottest actors in the world has some major drawbacks, but is she willing to put those aside for the person Jase is on the inside? Can she love someone who comes with a whole world of baggage she never planned to carry?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monica Alexander
• Release date: Nov 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301332625

Monica Alexander

Monica Alexander is a writer of contemporary, new adult, and young adult fiction. In 2011, she turned her lifelong love of reading and books into a career when she published her first novel, "Just Watch the Fireworks". When she's not reading and writing, you can find her at the beach, in the mountains, or hiking through a city, soaking all the beauty of the world around her and turning her experiences into inspiration for her next book.

Book preview

Forcing Gravity

By Monica Alexander

ISBN: 978-1-3013-3262-5

Copyright 2012 by Monica Alexander

Cover image: © EpicStockMedia / www.fotosearch.com Stock Photography

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or personals, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

The information in this book is distributed as an as is basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

About the Author

Playlist

-1-

A dog in a stroller. A dog in a freakin’ stroller!

Unbelievable.

I sighed.

Welcome to L.A.

But I guess, for me, since I was starting college at USC in a month, it was welcome home. Kind of a scary thought.

L.A. had really only been home to me for the first three years of my life, but I’d been going back there each summer as part of my parents’ custody arrangement, and it wasn’t one of my favorite places on the planet.

And I think I’d actually tuned out all of the things I’d come to hate about it when I decided to go to college at USC. But when I’d gotten accepted, I’d been back home in Florida for six months, so I’d forgotten all the little things that usually got to me by the end of each summer. Add that to the fact my dad had been over-the-top excited that I’d gotten into his alma matter and had started rehashing the good old days when he’d gone to school there, and I sort of got excited along with him and decided to go.

But when I’d made that decision, I hadn’t exactly thought about the fact that USC was in L.A. And I kind of hated L.A.

Okay, so yeah, it was kind of a fun town, and the weather didn’t suck, and my mother and sister lived there, but L.A. in general was just such a scene. And I hated scenes. I’d lived outside of Miami for most of my life, so I was used to the flamboyant characters who frequented the streets of South Beach, but L.A. was a whole different beast. Whenever I’d visited, I always felt like I was on-stage at all times and usually felt completely out of place. It was exhausting after a while.

And I’d tuned out that feeling of exhaustion until I landed in the land of plastic surgery and spray tans and ridiculous modes of transportations for pets, but the reminders hit me square in the face as I walked through LAX taking in my surroundings. Since it was an airport, there were plenty of normal people, but the subtle reminders of where I was were there.

Stifling a giggle at a woman tottering toward her gate in five inch platform heels and wearing a fury vest in the middle of August, I fished in my backpack for the key my mother had sent me the day before. I finally found it buried in the bottom of the front pocket under copious amounts of gum wrappers, loose change and about nine lip glosses. Yanking the note written in her scrawling handwriting from the key chain, I unfolded it to read it once more.

Welcome to L.A., sweetheart! I can’t wait to see you. Dinner is at eight. There are new dresses in your closet – any one of them will be just perfect. Enjoy your present. It’s parked on Level 3, Aisle B. Drive safe. See you soon! Love, Mom

I sighed again, fearful I’d be doing it a lot more in the near future. My mother meant well, but she literally had no concept of what it meant to be a good mother. She was too selfish for that. She had every delusion that sending me the key to a brand new BMW and having her assistant park it at the airport was just as acceptable as actually coming to pick me up herself.

Now don’t get me wrong, I was excited to have a new car, but come on – your daughter arrives in a new city, where granted, she was born and spent every summer since she was three after her dad got smart and moved her to Florida after he divorced her crazy-ass mother, but a foreign city nonetheless, and you don’t even have the decency to meet her at the airport! What is that?!

I guess it could be worse. I could be cabbing it out to her ginormous house out in the Pacific Palisades. At least I’d be driving in style.

Sighing one more time and vowing to try not to do it again, I made my way out into the California sunshine, dragging my one rolling suitcase behind me and trying to keep my surfboard balanced under my arm. Everything else I was planning to bring to college had been shipped to my mom’s house the week before and would be waiting for me when I arrived. But there were certain things I couldn’t live without, and my board was one of them.

I had one month until school started, and I’d be staying with my mom until then. Since I was moving to L.A. for college, I’d been able to talk her into letting me stay home in Ft. Lauderdale for June and July, instead of coming for the whole summer. She’d agreed, but only after I convinced her that she’d see me plenty during the school year since I’d be living so close by. In reality I knew we probably wouldn’t get together that much. She was busy with her own life, but she didn’t think of that, and I used it to my advantage.

Getting to the parking garage was slow-going, and I knew I shouldn’t have flown with my board, but I couldn’t stomach not having it with me. I surfed almost every day, so shipping it wasn’t an option. Grateful the elevator was empty when I got in, because I was seriously in danger of taking someone out if I wasn’t careful, I set my board down on its end and leaned back against the glass wall. As the elevator rose up to the third floor, I scooped my blond curls up on top of my head in a messy bun and tried to think of the positive things about living in L.A.

I’d had to leave all my friends behind. Oh wait, that was a negative. Think positive, Logan, come on. There has to be something good about this move. Yeah, okay so being close to the Pacific Ocean was a definite plus – the surfing would be amazing. Then there was my little half-sister Skylar. She was kind of a spoiled brat at times, but we’d gotten close over the past few years as we’d bonded over how crazy our mom was most of the time. We talked on the phone regularly, and living in L.A., I knew I’d get to spend more time with her, which was cool.

And then there was USC. I’d been hearing about the university my entire life, and I don’t think I’d ever seen my dad as proud as he was the day I showed him my acceptance letter. I’d originally planned to go to the University of Florida, but my dad really wanted me to go to USC, so I was going. And I was pretty psyched about my pending collegiate experience. I just needed to get through the next thirty days and I’d be golden.

The elevator stopped on the third floor, and I lifted my board back under my arm before gripping the handle of my suitcase again. I began my slow journey, balancing my load and looking for Aisle B. When I found it, I started to walk, hoping there wouldn’t be another red BMW convertible in the aisle that I would mistakenly try to open. That could be potentially embarrassing.

Then I looked up and smiled, and all my fear and loathing and dread simply faded away.

I actually spotted him before I spotted the car and just about dropped my load to rush forward and hug him. There, leaning against my new car with his tanned arms folded across his broad chest, sun-bleached hair falling to his chin and blue eyes sparkling, was my best friend, Ethan Lewis, the best good thing about my move to L.A. A wide grin spread across my face as I dropped everything, no longer able to hold back, and ran to him.

I can’t believe you’re here! I shrieked, jumping into his arms.

I buried my head in his neck, inhaling his comforting scent, a mix of surf wax and fresh air and something uniquely Ethan that always reminded me of my childhood.

Tell me you did not just drop your board on the concrete, Logan, he chastised, hugging me back and squeezing just tight enough that I could still breathe, but just barely. When I pulled back, he looked at me appraisingly. You look good, babe.

I grinned. You don’t look so shabby yourself, I teased, poking him in his taught stomach.

It had been almost a year since Ethan and I had last seen each other, and it seemed he’d filled out even more in that time. Of course I knew that since I’d paid attention whenever he uploaded new pictures to Facebook. He was usually flanked by beautiful women, but sometimes there were individual shots of him surfing or after a competition, shirtless and tan and beautiful. Ethan was a California surfer boy through and through and had competed at an amateur level for several years, which completely attributed to his rockin’ bod.

We’d actually been surfing together since we were seven and our moms put us, along with Ethan’s older brother Garrett, in lessons soon after the Lewis’ had moved in next door to my mom. I wasn’t nearly as good as Ethan and Garrett, especially since most of my surfing had been limited to the smaller waves off the coast of Florida for most of my life, but I could keep up with them when I had to.

What are you doing here? I asked, as Ethan helped round up my discarded bags, and I picked up my surfboard, hoping I hadn’t damaged it. It was in a travel case, so it was probably fine, but it was also a going off to college gift from my dad, so I’d be pissed if anything had happened to it. He’d had it custom designed and had just given it to me a few days before I’d left. I’d only ridden it twice.

You told me you were driving home alone, so I figured I’d show up to welcome you. Welcome. He grinned, quite proud of himself for his act of chivalry.

E, how did you get here? I asked, as I fiddled with the convertible top, trying to figure out how it went down. My board wasn’t fitting in the car any other way.

Garrett dropped me off, he said, and I tried to hide the panic I felt all of a sudden.

Oh, I said, working my ass off to maintain my composure. Is he still here?

Ethan shook his head. No, he had to fly up to Vancouver for some indie film he’s shooting. It’s supposed to premiere at Sundance next year or some shit. So he conveniently dropped me off at your kick-ass new car so I could surprise you.

He grinned again. I loved Ethan’s smile. He was so happy all the time, and his wide, bright smile always had a way of cheering me up no matter how shitty I was feeling.

Well that sucks, I said, acting how I knew Ethan would expect me to act upon hearing that I’d missed seeing one of my oldest friends. I wish I could have said hi to him.

He said to say hi to you, Ethan said, settling into the passenger seat next to me after we’d gotten everything loaded.

Oh, well, hi back.

God, I was so nervous. I’d just seen Garrett two weeks before when he’d been in Miami. He was an actor – a pretty popular actor as of late – and he’d been there filming scenes for a new movie he was in, so we’d hung out a few times. Ethan knew that, but I didn’t think he knew the full story of what had happened the last night Garrett was in town, and I wasn’t telling him. From what I could tell, Garrett hadn’t spilled anything to him either, and I was grateful for that. There’d been an ‘incident’, and I was hoping to keep it solely between Garrett and me.

You’ll see him in three weeks when he’s back in town, Ethan said. What? Are you missing your boyfriend already?

Ha, ha, I said, elbowing him, as he fiddled with his iPod, setting it up to work with the car’s stereo system. I’d have to have him show me how to use it later. He’s not my boyfriend, dumbass.

"Celerity Weekly says otherwise."

"Yeah, well, Celebrity Weekly needs to check their facts."

Garrett’s popularity as a teen heartthrob had followed him to Miami, and the paparazzi had been all over us when they saw us hanging out together. I was actually labeled as Garrett Lewis’s new girlfriend for a few weeks, which was awesome. Yeah, not really.

I was honestly a little sick of hearing about my recent fifteen minutes as a pseudo-celebrity. Ethan knew this, so thankfully he didn’t tease me about it any further.

Instead, he went back to his iPod, and before I knew it, Californication by Red Hot Chili Peppers was emanating from the undeniable kick-ass sound system. At least my mom had gotten me every upgrade available. The car was pretty sweet.

I raised my eyebrow at Ethan at his choice of music, as I drove out of the garage, and he grinned again.

Welcome to Cali, baby, he said, sliding on his Ray Bans and leaning back against the seat, tilting his face toward the sky to let the bright sun warm his cheeks.

-2-

No one was home when I walked into my mom’s house, and I stood there for a few moments in sheer disbelief. It was bad enough that she hadn’t met me at the airport, but for her to be gone when I got home was ridiculous. She knew what time my flight was arriving.

Her housekeeper, Mrs. Grable, informed me that she was out shopping with my little sister and she’d be home in time for dinner. I guess I should have taken her note literally. I’d see her at eight.

Needing to speak to someone who actually appreciated my existence, and who I knew would answer the phone, I called my dad.

Hey Daddy, I said as cheerfully as I could. Of course my dad knew me and my moods better than anyone, so he could tell I was upset.

Hey Lo, he said, and my heart squeezed at the sound of his voice. I missed him already. How was the flight?

Long and tiring, but Ethan met me at the airport, so that was a plus, I said, trying to keep things as light as possible, as I stepped into the elevator with my suitcase.

I usually thought having an elevator in one’s home was absurd, but in this case, with the alternative being hiking up three flights with my bags and surfboard, I opted for one of the indulgences that having a filthy rich mother afforded me.

My dad chuckled. How is Ethan Lewis these days?

He’d always liked Ethan. They’d only met once when Ethan had come to visit me in Florida, but he liked to surf and he was a USC fan, so to my dad, he was a keeper.

He’s Ethan, I said. He’s still a heartbreaker who refuses to settle down with a girl, even though they’re all drooling over him constantly, and he could have any girl he wants. Oh, and he’s taller than the last time I saw him.

When I reached my room, I noticed that my mom had redecorated it yet again. It seemed like every summer I came back my room was different. No matter, I was only staying there for a month, so what did I care. I noticed my college boxes had been neatly stacked in the corner of the room. My mom had offered to have Mrs. Grable unpack them and put them away, but I’d been insistent I’d take care of it when I arrived. I wasn’t used to other people doing things for me.

Well that’s good. I wouldn’t want you towering over your boyfriend.

Daddy! I said, exasperated with him. He was under some delusion that Ethan and I were going to get together now that we were both living in the same city. It wasn’t going to happen. We’re not like that, and you know it.

We’ll see, he muttered. Just for good measure, you tell him that if he in any way damages my little girl’s heart, I’ll have his head.

Okay, I’ll be sure to pass on the message, I said, rolling my eyes.

I walked out onto my balcony that overlooked the infinity pool and the ocean a few hundred yards away. At least I had a great view, and the waves looked spectacular. Maybe I could talk Ethan into going surfing when he got back from the gym. He’d headed there as soon as I’d dropped him off at his house.

"So I picked up Celebrity Weekly today while I was at the grocery store," my dad said, not so subtly changing the subject

Oh yeah?

I’d seen that week’s issue, and for the first time in a month, I hadn’t been on the cover, but I also hadn’t flipped inside to see what small blurb they might have printed about me and my so-called relationship with Garrett. It was possible I’d earned a mention yet again. Apparently ‘dating’ a full-fledged celebrity made me newsworthy.

The paparazzi first started to think something was going on when they saw Garrett and me surfing together in Ft. Lauderdale. We hadn’t seen anyone around, so we thought we were safe, but apparently they’d tailed us and had snapped several pictures of us hanging out in the ocean.

That first week we’d only made one of the smaller boxes on the front of the magazine, but they continued to follow us around Miami, taking pictures of what they thought were intimate moments. The next week’s issue showcased a picture of us on the cover with our heads close together at dinner, and then several additional shots inside the magazine of Garrett coming to my house to pick me up, us eating out on South Beach, and doing other mundane things like surfing and shopping and waiting in line to see a movie. But it also featured the piece de resistance – side by side pictures of Garrett and me out at a club and then me leaving his hotel the next morning in the same clothes I’d worn the night before. Oops.

Yeah, that last one might have seemed a little compromising, but the others were completely innocent. We were just friends, but of course no one believed that. Suddenly, I was the mystery girl Garrett Lewis, famed fallen angel from the Earthbound movies, was dating. Rumors flew across the internet about how we’d met, when we’d gotten together and how we were keeping our relationship on the down-low. Then the paps found out my mother was A-list actress, Alana Davis, and they figured it was a Hollywood match made in heaven.

The real story of how I’d known Garrett since I was a kid came out the third week, complete with a picture of the two of us taking a surf lesson when we were kids and some other shots of us from the present day, but the speculation increased when apparently someone in my ‘inner circle’ shared that I’d always been in love with him and had been biding my time, hoping we would end up together. Yeah, right. Garrett was like a brother to me, more so than Ethan even was. I still wondered who that person in my ‘inner circle’ was exactly. I had a feeling he or she didn’t know anything about me.

My dad had a conniption the first time he saw my picture on the cover of a gossip magazine. He literally flipped his lid in the middle of Target, and I had to calm him down while the cashier and everyone around us stared. He actually believed that I was hooking up with Garrett, but more than that, he couldn’t stand the fact that his daughter was a pseudo-celebrity. He was used to seeing his former wife on the cover of the various rags, but I’d never been a part of that area of her life, so it rocked his world to say the least.

At first he threatened not to let me see Garrett again, not because he didn’t want me dating him, but because he didn’t want my life catalogued for the whole world to see. Of course I wanted no part of the life in the spotlight that my mother lived in, and he knew that. So we had a long talk, and I convinced him I wasn’t dating Garrett and that I felt pretty safe that I wouldn’t be featured in any more tabloids since I wasn’t going to do anything tabloid-worthy in the near future. He thankfully calmed down after that.

Then Celebrity Weekly came out the next week, and the cover featured a split shot of me wiping tears from my eyes as I stood outside a restaurant in Ft. Lauderdale and Garrett leaving a club in L.A. with a busty brunette. The headline was ‘It’s Over Already’ with subheads reading ‘Garrett moves on’, ‘Logan inconsolable’ and ‘Inside their break-up’. Hello! There was no break-up?! Logan was inconsolable because her dad was making her feel all mushy about leaving for college, and she realized how much she would miss him being three thousand miles away. It was just a convenient shot for the lurking photogs who were probably expecting to catch me cheating on Garrett or some other nonsense having to do with our ‘relationship’.

My dad got pissed all over again when he saw that cover, but thankfully we were at home, so I let him rant and get it out of his system. He cursed, his face got red, and he threatened to call the editor of the magazine and tell her off, but I pulled him back from the ledge just in time. I made him swear he would keep things in perspective and remember that nothing they were saying really painted me in all that bad of a light. Sure, it was annoying, but it was also sort of comical.

He said he couldn’t make any promises to keep himself in check if they printed anything scathing or scandalous about me, but until then he’d try to keep things in perspective. Of course, since then he’d been buying Celebrity Weekly on the day it came out and combing it for pictures or mentions of his little girl. He was always the first to tell me what he’d found.

What exactly are they saying about me this week? I asked him, wondering how anyone could remotely be interested in my life. I was not that fascinating. Was there a picture?

There was one of Garrett and some girl at a movie premiere. Here, I’ll read the blurb to you. He cleared his throat. "‘The world’s second favorite fallen angel was spotted at the premiere of Rolling Dice with pop singer, Claudia Dillon, the third girl he’s been seen with since ending things with his childhood love and girl next door, Logan Kessler. Later in the night, the two stars were seen holding hands and kissing. Could this angel be off the market yet again?’ That’s gripping stuff, I tell you what."

Yeah, I’m riveted. Dad, you really shouldn’t buy that garbage. It’s all fake.

But it’s also freaking entertaining, and that’s why I read it each week. Yup, I am a total hypocrite when it comes to celebrity gossip.

Hey now, if my little girl is mentioned, I’m keeping the article.

He’d done the same with any articles from our hometown paper that I was mentioned in for playing volleyball in high school, which I figured was a parent thing, but this was a little ridiculous. At least my volleyball stats had been an accurate record of my life.

I sighed. Even if it’s all lies?

Yup, even then.

Whatever makes you happy, old man, I said, missing him so much it made my chest ache.

It suddenly hit me that I wouldn’t be going home at the end of August. In fact, I probably wouldn’t see him until Family Weekend in October. That was a long time from now.

I miss you, kid, he said then, echoing my sentiments, and I felt myself getting teary-eyed.

Did I make the right decision? I asked him for probably the hundredth time.

As psyched as I was about going to USC, I didn’t factor in how much I’d hate being across the country and three time zones away from my father. It was going to be a tough adjustment.

Absolutely, he said, with no hesitation. You’re going to love going to school there. Go Trojans!

Go Trojans, I echoed, knowing he was doing his best to keep it together, as well.

Alright, kid, take care, and I’ll talk to you soon, okay?

I nodded, feeling a thickening in my throat. Okay. Love you, Daddy.

I love you, too.

And then he was gone.

I let myself get teary eyed for a few minutes before I set to work on unpacking what I could, separating the boxes I needed to unpack from those that I wouldn’t need to unpack until I moved into my dorm. The task took me a few hours and eventually took my mind off of being homesick, and before I knew it, it was almost eight o’clock. As far as I knew, my mother and sister hadn’t come home yet, so I jumped in the shower, figuring I’d get ready for dinner and head down at the appropriate time.

With a towel wrapped around me, I laughed out loud when I took in the array of new clothes my mother had purchased for me. Having been raised by my father, I’d learned all about surfing and football and how to fix a flat tire. I learned very little about make-up and hair products and high heels. I lived in jeans and t-shirts and flip flops, and my mother knew this, but there before me in the huge walk-in closet, was the wardrobe of the girl she’d always wanted me to be.

She’d purchased dresses in every color and style imaginable, little slinky tops, and even a pair of leather skinny pants. There was also an array of boots, sandals and heels, all in different colors and styles, not to mention, at least ten bags in different sizes and colors. It was completely over-the-top, and I’d never wear most of it. I also noticed a variety of jewelry on my dresser, and when I’d been in the bathroom, I’d discovered that she’d bought out the MAC store just for me. I realized what was happening; my mother was making me her pet project in an attempt to transform me in time for the first day of school. Fan-tastic.

Sighing, I reached for one of the least threatening dresses, a strapless, green sundress that came to just above my knees. Forgoing the heeled sandals I knew she’d expect me to choose, I slipped on my leather flip flops and headed downstairs.

Something smelled incredible, and I wandered into the kitchen to check it out.

Damn, that smells amazing! I said loudly to the rotund Hispanic man who was whisking something at the stove.

Mija! he said, recognizing my voice as he turned around. A wide smile lit up his face. He crossed the room and smothered me in a bear hug. When did you get home?

Hi Julio! I got in this afternoon.

And you didn’t come down to see me, why? he demanded in his thick accent.

I’m sorry, I said, as he pulled back to appraise me. I was unpacking, and I didn’t want to bother you.

He waved his hand in dismissal. You’ve never bothered me once in the fifteen years since I’ve known you. Then he cupped his hand up to his mouth. Not like Ms. Skylar, but you didn’t hear me say that.

Julio! I chastised, but I was laughing as I said it.

Julio just gave me a knowing look. He’d been cooking for my mother since my parents’ divorce, and as far as I was concerned, there wasn’t anyone who could make food taste as good as he could – even the low carb crap my mother usually made him prepare. I considered him to be a part of the family, even if my mother and sister still thought of him as ‘the help’. I’d personally reamed Skylar out several times for the way she treated him, barging into the kitchen and demanding he make her and her friends a snack, always forgetting to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.

I sort of hoped a little of me would rub off on her while I was living at home, because I had serious fears that if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up just like my mom – selfish, entitled and elitist. I didn’t want that for her. Sure, the world had been presented to her on a silver platter, from both her parents, and because of that, she’d never learned the value of being nice and working