Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1) (20 page)

Today
was Friday, and she was resolved to finally get some real work done. In high
school, Jessie and her girlfriends had decided that the acceptable amount of
time to mourn the end of a relationship was never more than half as long as the
relationship had lasted. By that account, she was way over the limit, she told
herself sternly. So she sat in her office, brewed a large pot of her favorite
tea, and surrounded herself with notebooks.

It
almost worked. Before Chicago she had been working on ideas for a paper about
themes of journeying in sixteenth-century poetry: goodbyes spiced with the
adventure and romance of a culture just beginning to map the globe. Today it
seemed all she could see were the goodbyes, the loss and the emptiness of being
without the one you love. That was one of the pitfalls of a career in
literature: it had a way of getting its hooks into your real life. She poured
herself a second cup of strong tea.

***

          Dean stepped
off the bus and shouldered his bag. Well, I’m here, it’s all or nothing now.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends. At 8:30am Nate had dropped him at
Union Station in downtown Chicago. A four-hour bus ride later and here he was:
Ann Arbor, Michigan. He didn’t even need to check the GPS on his phone; the bus
had let out right on the campus. Signs for university departments were
everywhere.

          It was a
couple of blocks south to the building housing the English department offices.
Dean had spent most of the ride here attempting to craft the perfect winsome
speech to profess his love for Jessie when he saw her. He had nothing to show
for his efforts, except a determination to just tell the truth. He would do
what he should have done a week ago: just tell her he loved her and figure it
out from there.

          The English
department building was a sturdy brick structure with ivy snaking up one side.
Thankfully, there was directory just inside the door. Sure enough, J. Brooke,
Rm 404B. Dean started purposefully up the stairs. A small sign on the door
matched the directory label downstairs. He knocked gently, holding his breath.
He waited. And waited. Then waited some more. He knocked again, maybe she
hadn’t heard him. No response. In the seven hours since he’d made the decision
to storm Jessie’s office, it hadn’t once occurred to him she wouldn’t be there.
Samantha was right, he thought, I am a dumbass.

          He tried the
handle. The door wasn’t locked. Well, nothing else for it, he thought, easing
open the door.

The
office inside was miniscule. Dean wondered if 404B meant an original office had
been further divided in two. A large, heavy bookshelf completely covered one
wall, against the other was an old-fashioned desk with papers and books stacked
in a jumble. The wall between them had a small window with a tiny but
cheerful-looking houseplant on the sill. Beneath that was a table with an
electric kettle and various tea paraphernalia. The room smelled inviting of old
books and tea. Dean smiled. Other than the desk chair, there was one small
chair in the middle of the room (the only place there was floor space to
accommodate a second chair). Dean sat down and closed the door behind him. The
back of the door had a series of pictures stuck to it with double-sided tape.
There was Jessie in leopard-print sunglasses with a group of girls at an
outdoor concert; Jessie in a cluster of bridesmaids in green dresses around a
red-headed bride; Jessie and the dark-haired man from the conference laughing
in a bar; Jessie decked in fencing gear with a group of other fencers. Dean
leaned in to get a closer look at one. It was Jessie, much younger, probably no
more than fifteen, standing on the porch of an old-fashioned looking farmhouse
with two adult couples. The ones on the left had to be her parents, the right
her grandparents, maternal from the resemblance between the women. She takes
after her mother, Dean thought. His heart swelled. This was who she was; not
his Jane but this woman Jessie, and it didn’t make a lick of difference. He loved
her just the same.

***

Jessie
walked slowly from the sandwich shop back to her office. She had made some
progress this morning on her paper, but she needed a break before another crack
at it. She took the familiar path up the stairwell, not bothering to reach for
her keys. She locked her office at night, but during the day there were enough
people and not enough valuables around to bother worrying about it. She reached
out and absently pushed opened the door. The door met with sudden resistance,
and she heard a thud followed immediately by a groan.

The
door swung open to reveal a man with one hand on the door handle and the other
on his forehead.

“Dean?!
What are you doing here?! I mean, are you alright? I’m so sorry, I didn’t
expect anyone to be in here. Let me see.” Jessie reached up and gently took his
hand away from his forehead, revealing a thin red mark where the edge of the
door had collided with his skull. “It isn’t cut or anything, would you like me
to get you some ice?”

Dean
looked into Jessie’s green eyes, full of concern. Now this was the girl he
knew. Someone drops into her life completely unexpectedly and bangs their head,
all she wants to know is how she can help. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, I was looking
at the pictures on the back of the door. Must have leaned in a little too
close.”

He
smiled, and Jessie felt her heart melt. She tried not to show it, but she
wanted to cry, for joy or sadness she wasn’t quite sure. “Dean, what are you
doing here?”

Okay,
Dean thought to himself. Now or never. “I came to see you.” Well, that was
lame, he thought.

Blush
snaked up Jessie’s neck into her face. “Obviously. May I ask why?”

Man
up already! Dean shouted to himself. He took a breath. “Look, there’s something
I should have told you last week, actually should have told you the day we
watched
Henry
together. Jane, Jessie, whoever you are, I know we don’t
know each other that well, and I don’t know who the guy was that you were
hugging at the conference. But I don’t care. I have to say this. I love you. You
are the most beautiful, strong, loving, brilliant woman I have ever known, and
I am in love with you. And if you’re with that guy and you want to never see me
again that’s fine, I’ll get right back on the next bus out of here and I’ll
never bother you again. But before that, I have to tell you that I love you.”

Jessie’s
mouth fell open in shock. For a heartbeat that felt like eons to Dean, she said
nothing. Then her eyes went wide, and, of all the possible reactions, she
started to laugh.

“Adam?!
This is because you saw me with Adam?!”

Dean
wasn’t sure how to respond to this. She was laughing so hard now she was
shaking. He was pretty sure that wasn’t a good sign.

“Look,
if you want me to go, that’s fine. I said my piece, if you’re going to laugh in
my face I’m out.” He turned to storm out.

Jessie
grabbed him by the arm. “No, Dean, I’m so sorry, wait, please stop.” He turned
around. “It’s just kind of funny. Dramatic irony, I guess.” The laughter had
died down, leaving endearing mirth in her eyes. “Dean, there’s something you
should know about the guy you saw me with.”

“And
what’s that?”

“Let’s
put it this way, if there was one of us Adam would like to have sex with, it
would be you. Well, not you specifically, because he kind of wants to have you
drawn and quartered, but the point is, you’re, shall we say, more his type than
I am.”

Realization
dawned in Dean’s eyes. “He’s gay?”

“Yes!
He’s my best friend, and that’s all he ever could be. You honestly thought we
were a couple?”

“You
just looked so happy with him.”

“Well,
yeah! I mean, he came all the way to Chicago to find me, I got my memory back,
thanks to him I know who I am again. Of course I was happy to see him.” Pain
came into Jane’s eyes, and she lowered her voice. “One of the first things I
said to him when I got my memory back was how excited I was for him to meet
you.”

The
words cut through Dean like a knife. “I am so sorry for how I acted. I know the
reasons don’t matter much, but please believe me that I really thought I was
protecting you, letting you go back to where you wanted to be.”

Jessie
sighed. “Dean, I wanted my life back, of course I did. And I’m so glad to have
it. That doesn’t mean I don’t want you in it.” Her eyes were welling up with
tears. “I’m still so glad I was on that corner. And not for Alec, for me. The
accident, the memory loss. It was worth it to meet you, even after Saturday. It
was all worth it.”

Dean
took both her hands in his and held them to his chest. “If you give me another
chance to make this right, I promise I will never push you away again. Ever.”

Jessie
smiled. “Dean, all I wanted was for you to meet the real me.”

“I
met the real you the moment you saved Alec. But I want to know all of you.” He
paused, then said with a smile, “including your best friend, if he can set aside
his wanting to have me killed.”

Jessie
grinned. “Well, he might forgive you eventually, but he doesn’t take kindly to
your type.”

“And
what type is that?”

“The
type that rides up and steals his best friend’s heart, then kicks her to the
curb.”

Dean’s
face fell. “I guess I deserve that. I can see why he’d see me as the villain.”

Jessie
put her hand on his cheek. “You’re not a villain, Dean. You’re still my hero.”

“You’re
the hero,” Dean said softly. “I’m the one in need of rescue.”

“Then
maybe we can rescue each other.”

She
reached up and kissed him, gently and tenderly. He held her tight to him. He
could have held onto that kiss forever. She felt something wet at the top of
her cheek. She pulled away for a second. Dean was crying. She smiled softly at
him. He looked ashamed, and quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeves.

“Well,
this is embarrassing,” he said, trying to get control of himself.

“Dean,
you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. I love you,” she said simply.

“I
love you too, Jane,” he said automatically. He caught his mistake in a second.
“Sorry, I mean, Jessie.” He gave an apologetic smile. “It’s going to take some
getting used to, knowing your real name. It’s hard not to think of you as
Jane.”

Mischief
suddenly lit Jessie’s green eyes. “That’s right, I never got the chance to tell
you.” She reached into her purse for her wallet.

“Tell
me what?”

Jessie
pulled a card out of her wallet like a kid unwrapping a present. “See for
yourself,” she said, holding it out to him. Suppressed laughter danced in her
eyes.

Dean
looked down at the card. It was a Michigan driver’s license. It took him a
second to realize what Jessie wanted him to see. “Jessie Jane Brooke,” he read.
She was grinning.

“Named
after my grandfather, Jesse. My grandmother never got used to the idea of
another one of us around, so she- and half the family out of deference to her-
always called me by my middle name. Probably part of the reason it felt so
comfortable to hear all that week. I’m Jessie, but I’m Jane too. Your Jane if
you like.”

“My
Jane, huh?” Dean said, a warm smile breaking across his face. “Yeah, I like the
sound of that.” He pulled her in close and leaned in for another kiss.

“
Peace,
peace, Mercutio, peace! Thou talk’st of nothing
.” Aaron read the words from
the script in front of him.

“
True,
I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but
vain fantasy
,” Abdul answered back. He wasn’t looking at his script at all.
Dean grinned from his place off stage. He knew all the kids were trying, but
Abdul was leading the way.

Miguel,
playing Benvolio, finished the scene, and Dean called the kids together.
“Alright guys, great job today everyone! Things are really starting to come
together, and I am so proud of you. Please please please work on your lines
over the weekend. Just a reminder, I’ll be out of town for the weekend but I
will definitely be back for our Tuesday night rehearsal. For Sunday, we need
everyone who is in any of the fight scenes. Adam Talbot, you guys remember Adam
from the auditions? He’ll be leading the Sunday rehearsal to block all the
fight scenes. It is stage combat Sunday.” There was a small cheer from the
assembled teenage boys. Dean suspected several of them had only auditioned in
the hopes of running around with a sword. He turned to his Juliet. “Mariela, I
need you here as well. Adam is also going to block Romeo and Juliet’s deaths at
the end. Again, you guys did awesome today, enjoy your weekend. Fight scenes
and death scenes, Sunday 2pm with Adam, everyone else I’ll see you Tuesday
night at 5.”

Dean
smiled to himself as the kids grouped off and filed out, chatting away. He hung
back, making sure all the kids had a ride before he left. Watching them all
leave, he felt… peaceful. Tomorrow would be four weeks since he’d gotten off
that bus at the university with no idea whether he’d be back on it in a matter
of hours, now here he was, building something that mattered. The idea for the
production had actually come from Adam, who seemed to have gotten over his wish
to kill Dean in a number of creative ways when he saw how happy Jessie was to
have him back. Dean was directing
Romeo & Juliet
for high school
kids at the community center in Canton, a twenty minute drive east of Ann
Arbor, and he loved it. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this
fulfilled professionally, like he was getting back to what he really loved
about acting. Rejuvenating, that was the word.

Dean
slung his bag over his shoulder and checked his phone. He’d practically had to
pry the phones out of the kids’ hands at the first read-through, so he knew to
lead by example and keep his safely stowed during rehearsal. He had received
four text messages in the past two hours. His first thought was Stuart. When
Dean had finally called to say he was staying in Michigan for the summer and
wouldn’t be back in L.A. until it was time to film
Once Bitten
, the
usually cool and collected Stuart had just about laid an egg. He had responded
to the news as if Dean had said he planned to move to the deepest jungle of the
Amazon rainforest. Poor Stuart had gone on and on about all the opportunities
he was missing for “exposure,” but Dean didn’t care. Directing and coaching
these kids was giving him something he hadn’t gotten from Jared and company in
quite some time. He had finally almost gotten through to Stuart by explaining
that a little time away would help him come back to the show refreshed and
better than ever. But in the meantime, these kids meant something to Dean. And
of course every night, he came home to his Jane.

          Tonight would
be the first night since his arrival he wouldn’t spend in Jane’s, what he was
now coming to think of as their, small apartment near the university. Samantha
was due on Saturday, so he and Jane were driving down tonight for a long
weekend, hopefully they’d be there to see the new baby. As Dean read his texts,
it looked like he would get his wish. They were all from Nate, saying he was
taking Samantha to the hospital and giving updates. Perfect timing. Dean tore
off for the car with a grin on his face.

          Jessie was
already waiting outside the building with a duffel bag in her arms when Dean
pulled up. She hopped in excitedly, throwing the duffel into the back seat.
“Nate texted me as well, didn’t want to lose any time.” She leaned over and
gave him a quick kiss before setting off. She smiled. Damn, Dean thought. He’d
seen it every day since he got here, and that smile still knocked him off his
feet every time.

          They made the
long drive right through Chicago and into the suburbs, talking excitedly about
Nate and his family, Jessie’s progress on her paper, and Dean’s rehearsal.

          “I can’t wait
for you to see these kids, Jane,” he said excitedly. “Abdul already has his
lines down pat. That kid has honest-to-goodness raw talent.”

          “So why isn’t
he playing Romeo?” Jane asked quizzically. “It would seem from the outside
you’d want him in the lead. Not that Aaron can’t handle it, of course.”

          “I offered it
to him, but he said he liked Mercutio. He said Mercutio knows how to have fun.”
Dean grinned. “I wasn’t going to argue with the kid.”

          “And I’m sure
it has nothing to do with the fact that your first acting experience was as
Mercutio, right?”

          Dean
shrugged, and Jane ran her hand affectionately through his hair. “I’m really
proud of you, Dean.” Dean patted her knee with his right hand, letting the
comfortable silence say the things he didn’t have the words for.

It
was nearly midnight when they got in and collected Alec and Tucker from a
neighbor. Nate kept them updated as the night wore on, and just before 2am he
texted a picture of the newest member of the Everett family.

          Even the boys
were too excited to sleep much, so early the next morning Dean and Jessie
herded them into the car and made the drive to Chicago General Hospital. Dean
and Jessie exchanged a glance as they came through the doors, and though he
needed his hands for the boys, he brushed one gently along Jane’s now cast-free
left arm.

          Samantha was
in bed holding her daughter, looking exhausted but radiant as Nate ushered the
group in. Tucker and Alec both clamored to see her, so Samantha invited them to
climb on the bed next to her. She smiled up at Dean and Jessie, but she spoke
to the boys.

          “Tucker,
Alec, I’d like you meet your baby sister, Susie. This is Susanne Jane Everett.”

          Nate looked
at Jessie. “Susan was our mother’s name, and Samantha’s mom is Jane,” he
explained. “Sam and I thought we should name our daughter after both her
grandmothers. Sharing a name with her aunt is a bonus.” Dean turned just in
time to see Jessie’s mouth fall open. He put an arm warmly around her.

          Tucker piped
up, eager to be part of this family moment. “Well, you’re not really totally
our aunt yet. But Uncle Dean said you could be Aunt Jane to us now. We don’t
have to wait until you to get married.” He said it with such unshakable
certainty Dean and Jessie both laughed. Tears had come to Jessie’s eyes. Smart
kid, Dean thought.

          “Well, it is
an honor to be your Aunt Jane. Two nephews and a niece all in one day. Lucky
me.” She wiped away a tear and leaned her head onto Dean’s shoulder. Lucky us,
she silently corrected. As if he could hear her thoughts, Dean held her a
little tighter.

END