Kind of Famous (Flirting with Fame Book 3)

by Mary Ann Marlowe

  Micah jumped up and saved me from further embarrassment by lighting the candles on the cake. As we all sang “Happy Birthday” to Jo, I took a snapshot in my mind of this amazing moment.

  I had nobody to tell.

  After Jo opened her presents and the party broke up, I excused myself to gather my belongings.

  Upstairs, alone with my thoughts and my things, I appraised my situation. Was I making the right move? Jo would let me stay another night, but it was her birthday, and I was willing to bet she and Micah were eager to have some privacy. They weren’t shy about showing their affection in public, and I was sure they were unabashedly physical in private.

  I could go home with Shane and keep my things with Jo, but what was the difference between sleeping over at Shane’s with or without my stuff?

  Funny how’d I’d been worried about a one-night stand a day ago, and now I was parsing out the legalities of shacking up.

  Plus Shane would be leaving on tour, and I could move out before he got back. Once I’d settled on a course of action, I carried my suitcases to the top of the stairs.

  Shane bounded up and grabbed them for me. He’d already called an Uber, and it stood waiting out front.

  As I babbled out my thanks and goodbyes, Jo gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, “If you change your mind before you find a place, please give me a call.”

  Eden slid one arm around my back in a side hug. Joshua cradled in her other arm. “Either way, when they’re on the road, feel free to come hang out with us.”

  Jo shot a glance at Micah who was wadding up gift wrap cast offs. “I can always use the company when they’re gone. Come on Friday, and we’ll marathon all the rom coms Micah doesn’t like to watch.”

  Eden nodded. “Ooh! I’m so there. Can we rent Guardians of the Galaxy?”

  Jo snorted. “That’s not a rom com!”

  “It’s not? But it’s got Chris Pratt!”

  It cracked me up that Eden was married to a man thousands of women fantasized about and still had her own celebrity crush.

  I told them, “I’ll definitely be there,” still in shock that this had become my life.

  Shane called for me, and I climbed into the cab ahead of him. He didn’t immediately scoot over next to me, so I slid against him and nudged him. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “Of course not.”

  I tilted my head to look him straight on. “You’re annoyed, though. I’m sorry I keep losing my shit.”

  “I’m annoyed at myself, not you.”

  “It’s not me, it’s you? Should I be worried?”

  He cut his eyes at me finally with a little sigh. “No. It just stings to watch your girlfriend fall under the spell of your friends. I get it, mentally, but it’s tough to watch.”

  Girlfriend? There was that word again. I guess I was.

  “I’m sorry. I have to confess I’m a bigger fan of his than I let on.” It was a relief to unload some truth.

  “No shit. That much is obvious.”

  “He’s kind of a big deal. You said so yourself.”

  “I would have thought the novelty would wear off.” He looked out the window. “Like I said, it’s me, not you. I’ve seen it happen before. Too many times.”

  “Seen what?”

  “The gravitational pull.”

  “There’s no gravitational pull. I’m just starstruck.”

  “Your eyes turned into saucers.” He shook his head, but at least he chuckled, and I felt less chided than mocked. “I expected to see them spinning like a hypnotized cartoon cat.”

  “I did kind of space out there. It’s surreal for someone like me. I’m from central Indiana. I’ve never met anyone. I’m suddenly thrust into your world. Give me a minute to catch up.”

  “Adam said it best. Take your time. I’ll try not to die of jealousy every time you make googly eyes at my best friends instead of me.”

  I wasn’t making googly eyes. Okay, maybe I was, but how could I explain that it was more like meeting Jesus than Fabio. I was in awe, but I had no romantic feelings for any of those guys. Sure, I could objectively appreciate their glorious gorgeousness, but Shane had nothing to worry about. At least not on that score. Shane was real. Those people were all make believe.

  “Trust me. You don’t want me to look at you like that.” I clasped his hand and attempted to adopt a come-hither gaze.

  It must have worked. The rest of the tension seeped out of him, and he leaned over to brush his lips against mine, but his anxiety must have transferred to me. I couldn’t put my finger on what was bothering me. Maybe I was just out of sorts from moving my suitcases yet again. Maybe it was the speed at which things were changing. It felt like something lurked in the closet. It was time to have a conversation about where things were going with this relationship. But not in the back of an Uber.

  I pulled back. “How long until we get home?”

  “Home.” He smiled. “I like it when you say that.”

  I didn’t have the heart to correct him with “temporary home” right then.

  The driver stopped in front of the Japanese restaurant. Shane grabbed my bags from the trunk and carried them up the stairs. Once inside, he said, “I should probably give you this,” and handed me a bronze key. “That one’s for the door, and I’ll text you the downstairs key code so you’ll always have it.”

  His trust in me was humbling really, but more evidence we needed to have a real discussion from the onset. So instead of dragging him up that spiral staircase to his inviting bed, I sat on the sofa.

  “Shane, we need to talk.”

  “Uh oh. Should I be worried, now?”

  I planted my palms on my knees and shot him my serious face. I needed to put my people management skills to some kind of real-world use for once. “Just come here, please.”

  He shuffled over, acting as though he’d been called to the principal’s office. With sagging shoulders, he finally dropped down beside me. “Okay. Do your worst.”

  “Now, see, it’s that attitude that is going to make this hard.”

  “Crap. You’re starting to scare me.”

  I exhaled. “Don’t you worry we’re rushing into things? I met you on Monday. It’s Friday, and I’m more or less moving in with you. We didn’t even talk about it beforehand.”

  He looked confused. “Did you want to stay at Jo’s? Did I push you to do something you didn’t want to?”

  “No. That’s not it.” All at once, I started to laugh at how ridiculous it all was, and the words flowed out. “This shouldn’t be happening. You and I are impossible. Who’s ever heard of any serious, long-lasting relationship starting so fast? We’re flying on instinct and emotion, and we barely even know each other.”

  His face brightened. “Oh, that’s all you’re worried about? I thought maybe you’d figured out you don’t really like me and want more space. Or a restraining order.”

  “No. That worries me the most. What is wrong with me, Shane? How have I let this happen? I was in Indiana a week ago.”

  “Lucky for me, you’re here now.”

  “What are we going to do about it?”

  “About what? I don’t understand the problem.”

  “Do you usually move this fast?”

  He shook his head. “No, but I’ve never felt like this before about anyone. It’s like I’m caught in a riptide. I don’t know how to slow it down, and I don’t really want to. Do you?”

  I couldn’t say I did, but the lack of caution worried me. “How are we going to know if it’s right? That we aren’t making a huge mistake?”

  “We don’t know. We just live it and see.” He took my hands. “Doesn’t it feel right?”

  “It feels—” I tried to find the word for what I was experiencing “—intoxicating.�
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  He inched closer, until his forehead pressed against mine. “Perfect.”

  It should have scared the shit out of me. Maybe the reason his intensity didn’t freak me out like it had with boyfriends past was simply because I was feeling it too. We were in the same boat while the current carried us down the rapids, and as long I didn’t fall out, then I wouldn’t drown. But where was the river leading?

  And what if I decided I did want out eventually?

  Shane stood and held out a hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  His eyes sparkled with mischief, and I was tempted to follow him anywhere, but that sense of warning hadn’t dissipated. Maybe it was too much novelty, homesickness, or just stupid hormones messing with my brain chemistry.

  I decided it might help to touch base with my normal by checking in with Ash and catching up with any fan site drama before I went to sleep, so I said, “I’ve got something I need to do for a few minutes on the computer. Do you mind?”

  “Oh. Of course not. I have a book to read.” Despite his words, his forehead furrowed, but then he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll be upstairs, okay?” He stood, took a step back, and added, “Waiting.” Two more steps. “Upstairs.” Another few feet. “In bed.” He made it to the stairs. “Most likely naked.”

  “With a book.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t fall asleep, please.”

  “Not a chance.”

  He took his sweet time walking around the steps, and when his feet finally disappeared, his shirt came fluttering down. Followed by his pants. And his boxers.

  God.

  I closed my eyes and breathed in. I had my private messages open and was about to find out what Vencor had written.

  But then Shane yelled, “You ever going to come up here? I’ve only got on my socks.”

  I had to laugh at him, and the dark cloud dissipated. The computer could wait a few hours.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I found him, exactly how he’d said, naked, reading a book, in nothing but his socks. He’d neglected to mention the heavy black hipster glasses that made him look borderline ridiculous, but given my proclivities, it pushed him over to the side of delectable. I crawled on hands and knees up him and trapped him beneath me. He peeled my T-shirt off. I did the same with my pants.

  I rolled one of his socks off. Then the other. His toes curled, and he giggled like the Pillsbury Doughboy. I ran a finger along his arch, and he yanked his foot away.

  “You’re ticklish.”

  “Am not,” he lied.

  “No?” I dragged my fingernails along the back of his knee, and he hissed.

  “Do that again.”

  I did.

  His calves were slender but toned, covered in red hair that would match my own if I hadn’t shaved. But I had, because it was nearly summer, and I’d been wearing skirts. And banging a drummer.

  Speaking of which, when I got to his thighs, which were substantially thicker than his calves, like he did squats for a living, and maybe he did when he half crouched in front of that drum set, I ran my tongue along the inside of his leg. His groan satisfied me.

  “Will you please hurry up, Layla? You are going to drive a man insane.”

  I pushed his knee to the side, knocking his legs apart, and despite his griping, he let me. His erection stood out like a neon marquee, demanding my attention, but I zeroed in on his taint, just below his balls. When I licked him, he cursed, and I smiled. I did it again.

  “Layla. My God.”

  His balls drew up tight, and I took one in my mouth. Then the other. His back arched. I wrapped my hand around his cock, wondering for a humorous second if his dick had done squats as well because, phew, Shane was a handful. I loosened my grip enough to slide up his length while I focused my mouth on the nether regions. The guttural sounds coming from him now were making me moan.

  “I’m going to come if you keep that up. And you’re going to regret it.”

  I never would. But he made a fair point. I retreated and slithered up beside him. “You are delicious, Shane.”

  He kissed me while his hand trailed down my torso to my own wet heat. “You want me.”

  “I want you.”

  “Because you like me.”

  “You know I like you.”

  He grinned. “We’re perfect together.”

  I couldn’t disagree at the moment. Instead, I threw my leg over him, and he gasped as I centered him beneath me.

  “Layla.” He swallowed. “The condoms are in the drawer. Or maybe the bathroom. Somewhere.”

  “Do we need one, Shane?”

  His fists grasped the sheets, and his eyes closed. “We should use one.”

  “I’m on the pill. I’m clean. You?”

  “Last I checked, yes. Same. But are you sure?” His eyes were liquid night. “I don’t mind using one.”

  His breathing was shallow, and I made a decision to trust him. He was so hard, all I had to do was settle onto his tip and then sit slowly down onto his hips. He said something unintelligible, and I lifted back up.

  “Jesus.” His head tilted back, and I took control of him, touching his chest and the muscles along his abs, watching them ripple as I settled into a rhythm. He met me with his thrusts, his hands gripping my hips, helping me up and down.

  I fell forward so I could press my lips on him, and as we started to kiss, I slowed, so we could experience this moment together. Skin to skin.

  His eyes locked onto mine, and we stared into each other’s souls as I rocked against him, as he rolled into me, an easy beat. Excruciatingly up, deliriously down. He stretched me out and hit that spot deep inside me, again, again, again, until I felt nothing but waves of pleasure. And they built and crashed over me with a sudden intensity.

  I groaned out his name, aware that he hadn’t come yet. My forehead fell onto his chest and he flipped me onto my back, still hard, still pumping in me, sweat dripping from his hair, falling onto my forehead, and he picked up the pace, slamming into me harder, faster, uncontrolled, and I went over the brink again, grunting out an animal cry. The word yes escaped my lips more than once, and I wrapped a leg around his back, urging him to completion.

  One, two, three more thrusts, and he cried out as the rush of his jet stream hit like a tsunami.

  Panting, he dropped beside me, and we lay side by side, staring at the ceiling.

  He was the first to speak. “You sure you can’t come with us on tour?”

  “You want a groupie on your tour bus?”

  He rolled toward me. “There won’t be any groupies on the tour bus. And I’d get us a hotel.”

  “I wish I could.”

  “Okay. But I don’t know how you’re going to live without all this while I’m away.”

  I laughed. “You’ve got me there. You really are Hurricane Shane.”

  His silly grin melted my heart. “That’s me.”

  Nobody warned me that we’d be working on Sunday, but as soon as we’d had time to eat and grab a cup of coffee, Shane was on the phone with Micah, and the next thing I knew, I was carrying a million round boxes from the rehearsal studio to a trailer. While Shane broke down his drum set into a reverse thousand-piece puzzle, Rick rolled amps out. Noah was nowhere to be found, and Micah only arrived when we were closing the trailer. I was going to shake my very tired fist at him before I realized he was there to drive over to his townhouse and load up his own things. We walked over and arrived as Micah was carrying out a black guitar case. Then he disappeared inside.

  He must have unearthed eight more guitars from his basement.

  He passed by, head down, hauling gear. It had never occurred to me that they had to do this every time they went on tour. “When do they get roadies?”

  Jo handed me a bottle of water and led me out of the way of the traffic. “There will be peopl
e at the venues to help them set up. They’re picky about making sure they have everything.”

  A bus rolled up, and Noah climbed down. “It is a gorgeous day to get on the road.”

  Everyone’s spirits were up. At least for the guys. They seemed like they’d bottled up energy while hanging around at home, practicing and preparing. Now they were kinetic and ready to burst.

  Jo hollered at Micah. “Where will you be tonight?”

  “Not sure. I’ll check in a minute.”

  “Excuse me.” I squeezed past Micah, suddenly too curious about that bus to remain a mute spectator. I’d heard about bands’ touring buses and everything that goes on in them. I’d never personally set foot on one.

  They’d shut off the engine, but the door was left open, so I climbed in, expecting to find a decadent sex cave. Maybe it needed a few rock stars to transform it into something more than a glorified mobile home. I’d been on the normal kind of buses, with the carpet-covered seats paired two-by-two to the back. I wasn’t expecting anything like that. I was still surprised by black-and-white diamond lamination on the floor. Leather sofas ran along either wall facing tables fixed to chrome poles. Farther in, a flat-screen TV graced the back wall.

  “Layla?” Shane stuck his head around the front divider and stepped in.

  “Just checking out your digs. Not too shabby.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Not for a short trip maybe. Thankfully, we’ve got hotels every night this week.”

  I pictured the parties in those hotel rooms, the groupies, the sex. “Will you call me while you’re gone?”

  He moved closer and slid his hand around my back. “Every chance I get. You won’t find it annoying?”

  “Maybe avoid work hours?” I could just imagine Gabe’s look if I sat at my desk, flirting over the phone. “After you’re done performing, you could tell me about the show?”

  His breath tickled my ear. “Or I could tell you what I’d rather be doing.”

  “Break it up, you two.” Fucking Noah had arrived. “Shane, say your goodbyes. We need to hit the road.”