by Starr, Faith
“I’m not viewing him that way.”
“He probably senses that, which is why he’s keeping his public persona private. Did he say where he’s taking you tonight? And more importantly, did he pick you up at the house?”
“The other day we left straight from the center. He wasn’t sold on the idea. I told him he could pick me up tonight but that my roommates are against dates coming inside.”
“My God. He must think you live with a bunch of nuns.” She rubbed her brow. “No wonder he didn’t try to get frisky with you.”
“Hey. He was respectful. He kissed me. It was the perfect end to a perfect date. Don’t get me wrong, he is flirty and makes lots of sexual innuendos, but during our date, he kept his hands to himself.”
“You lucky, lucky girl. With that being said, I still want you to be careful. I know it’s going to be hard with someone like him. He’s probably a smooth talker and suave with the ladies, if you get my drift.”
“He acted differently with me.”
“He’s still a rock god. The last thing I want is for him to take off and leave you behind with a shattered heart. He’ll move on, gallivanting around the world with fans galore, while you’ll still be dealing with all your shit down here.”
“Thanks for the reassurance.” Slouching, I leaned back in my chair, absorbing her words and acknowledging the truth in them.
“I’m just being real with you. You know I have your best interest at heart.”
That she did.
She checked her phone. “Shall we head out? We’ve got about fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, sure.”
We tossed our trash in the waste bin and headed for the exit.
“Carly’s going to meet up with us.”
“I figured since the two of you are having lunch later. A lunch I wasn’t invited to.” She nudged my arm, smiling.
“You know you’re welcome to come with us.”
“I know. I have a lot to do around the house. The wash doesn’t do itself, neither does the cleaning. I so wish they did.”
“I second that. I have some cleaning to do as well before my date.”
“Ryan Josephs.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. What are the odds?”
“I know, right?”
11
Ryan
My parents had a knack for putting me in a crap mood. This whole selling the house business didn’t help. Fortunately, I was able to put my frustration to good use. I remained holed up in my apartment and wrote a new song. The guys and I agreed to meet up late Sunday afternoon in the garage to work on it as a band.
The main thing lifting my spirits was my upcoming date with Lizzie. Our back and forth texts had revealed her playful side. I dug it.
The directions she had given me to her place were easy. Pulling into her neighborhood had me wondering why she hadn’t wanted me to pick her up on Thursday. It wasn’t the fanciest of places, but the lawns were well-groomed, and the houses well-maintained. I didn’t get it.
I parked at the end of the driveway being several other cars had already taken up most of the available space. She had told me to text her when I arrived. Not happening. I was going to walk to the door and greet her, the proper thing to do.
A bubbly brunette answered the door. Her mouth fell open upon seeing me.
Fuck! I had been so preoccupied with my date I hadn’t given any thought to a roommate or houseguest recognizing me.
Her eyes darted to the left and right of me. Perhaps she was checking to see if the guys were with me.
“Ryan Josephs? Is this a prank? Did somebody win a contest in this house or something? Oh my God!” She jumped up and down. “I love your band. Come in! Come in!”
She literally tugged me inside which confused me to no end because Lizzie had specifically said her roommates didn’t approve of dates in the house.
Another woman was sitting on a couch, eating out of a bag of popcorn. She glanced at me, at the television, then back at me. She dropped the bag on the couch, the popcorn spilling onto it and the tile floor. “Holy shit.”
She dashed over and stood next to the other girl. Their eyes met excitedly, both of them visibly starstruck.
So much for keeping my public persona under wraps. Not that I’d be able to for much longer.
Playing it cool was how I decided to proceed. “Is Lizzie here?”
The two women’s eyes widened. Popcorn girl spoke. “Lizzie? How do you know Lizzie?” Her words crashed together from speaking so fast.
Maybe this was why Lizzie wanted me to text her from the driveway.
Wait a second, had Lizzie known my true identity all along but didn’t say anything?
A surge of disappointment bubbled to the surface. And here I thought she was interested in me for me.
I ignored popcorn girl’s question and repeated mine. “Is she here?”
“Lizzie!” The first girl yelled toward the staircase.
The two women remained frozen in front of me, both gawking. Because that wasn’t too uncomfortable.
Popcorn girl whipped out her phone. “Can I take a picture with you?”
Put on a happy face.
“Umm… Yeah, sure.”
If Lizzie didn’t know I was famous, she sure as hell would now.
And there she was, trotting down the stairs right as the roommate snapped the picture. Of course, the other woman wanted one too. Lizzie’s smile fell. Yet even with a pout, the word spectacular didn’t come close to describing her. She had on tight jeans and a loose-fitting top with shoulder cutouts. No bra? My happy face was real now.
Her long curly brown hair framed her delicate features. The blue highlights in her shirt made her blue eyes stand out more than they usually did. For a moment, I forgot all about the two giddy women next to me.
“Hi.” She approached me, her body somewhat rigid. The two women stared at her, both of them anticipating some kind of an explanation. Lizzie didn’t give one.
“Lizzie?” Popcorn girl nudged her arm.
Lizzie sighed. “Ryan, this is Kelly and Miriam, two of my roommates.”
You mean there were more?
Kelly, popcorn girl, jetted her hand out in front of me to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you in person.” Her cheeks were bright pink.
Miriam jumped into the conversation. “We are huge fans of the band.”
“It’s nice to meet you both.” I acknowledged them with eye contact. I took hold of Lizzie’s hand. “Ready to go?”
She nodded and brushed past the two women, saying a polite and quick goodbye. Both girls sighed heavily behind us as I ushered Lizzie out of the house. The two roommates stood at the door and watched me assist her into my car and drive off.
“Is that why you asked me to text you?” I wanted the truth.
“No.”
Come on. Did she take me for a fool?
“Then why did you ask me to text you?” I hated to sound so attacking, but I wanted clarification. Had this all been a sick game to her?
“Because we really do have a policy in the house about no men allowed.”
Our eyes met. She had to see me glaring. “Your roommates had no issue with me being inside the house. Miriam literally dragged me in there.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a famous musician?”
Bang! And there it was. She did know.
“Before I answer that question. Please answer one for me first.”
“Sure. Ask away.”
Tension filled the space in the car. I kicked up the A/C.
“Did you know who I was when you first met me?”
“No. I had never heard of your band or listened to your music. No offense.” She half-reached out to me then let her hand fall on her lap.
“None taken. Please continue,” I encouraged.
“The night after I saw you and your friends at the club, Isabella and Dena, the two women who left with you and your friends, were talking about your band. That’s when
I found out.”
Sweet relief. She hadn’t lied. “Then why didn’t you say anything about it on Thursday or in one of our texts?”
“I figured if you wanted me to know, you would have told me. You tiptoed around the subject. I assumed you must’ve had a reason for wanting to keep it from me. I couldn’t figure out what it was but still, I respected your privacy.”
Sweet relief with a cherry on top.
“I appreciate that. I guess now that you know who I am, you have no excuse but to become one of my band’s fans.” I winked at her.
The tension in the air subsided but I kept the A/C on high. Merely being in Lizzie’s presence heated me up.
“Why didn’t you want to tell me? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“People recognize me and the guys in public. They make a fuss. When I met you, you didn’t seem fazed.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“It’s a great thing.” I took her hand in mine, wanting to touch her. “My life is crazy hectic. Most of the women I meet, actually, all of the women I meet, are only looking for a night of fun with a member of the band. Like your friends at the club. You didn’t give off that vibe.”
“I’m glad you picked up on that. I’m, how should I put it, selective. And for the record, Isabella and Dena are not my friends. They’re work associates.”
“Don’t worry. I get the whole guilty-by-association thing. I wasn’t putting you in the same category as them. When you say you’re selective, what exactly does that mean?”
“I’m cautious.”
“Cautious how?”
“Are you intentionally trying to make me feel uncomfortable?”
“Not at all. Just trying to get to know you better.” I tightened my grip on her hand and caressed her knuckles. I didn’t want her to feel as if she was on trial.
“My life is crazy hectic too. I try to keep drama to a minimum. Therefore, I’m selective in who I choose to go out and hang out with.”
“That makes sense.”
“I’ll be honest and say I debated whether or not to cancel our date on Thursday.”
That comment surprised me. “Why is that?”
“Because you’re only in town for a few weeks.”
Ah. We were both on the same page.
“Yeah. I’ve thought about that too.”
“If I was smart, I’d be staying far away from you.”
“But you’re not. Why?” I glanced at her.
“Good question.”
A bolt of warm energy shot through me.
“Why don’t we agree to enjoy each other’s company while I’m in town? What do you say?”
“That’s what I’m trying to do. Keep it all in perspective.”
“Me too. So now that you know who I am, what do you think of our music? I’m assuming you’ve listened to some of it by now.”
She smiled wide, showing me her beautiful white teeth. “I have, and I love it. It’s amazing. I don’t know how it had gotten by me. I read online that you write the songs too.”
“Aha, so you’ve been doing research as well. You’re at an unfair advantage. Please keep in mind that not everything you read online is true.”
“I’d rather learn about you from you, not the Internet, which is why after reading a few blurbs and comments, I shut it off. All that celebrity stuff doesn’t interest me—too much ego and pretentiousness. Again, no offense.”
What a rarity to hear from a woman. It didn’t happen often in my world. If ever.
“Again, none taken. I myself don’t like drama or superficial people either. You won’t see shit plastered all over the Enquirer about my personal life. I try to separate my public and private lives as best as I can. Some of my bandmates, not so much. They love the limelight. But that’s their issue. Not mine. Of course, reporters and photographers have their methods for getting hold of information and posting it.”
“You’re very talented. You deserve the fame you’ve achieved.”
“I appreciate the compliment. It’s not often the guys and I hear that we deserve it. I’m just grateful to have it. Not the fame part. The ability to share our music with our fans.”
“That must be an incredible feeling. I don’t think I’d ever have the guts to stand in front of thousands of people and perform. Not that I would because I’d scare an audience with my voice.”
So frickin’ cute!
“And I don’t think I’d have the patience to care for the residents at the center. We’ve all got our callings.”
Her hand tensed in mine. Something about my comment hit a nerve.
“We’re here. I hope you eat steak. Although they do have vegetarian dishes if you don’t.”
“Steak is fine. I hope I’m dressed appropriately, though.” She gestured to her attire. “The place seems a bit fancy.”
“You look beautiful.” I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it.
The rise and fall of her breasts when she took a deep breath nearly took mine away.
“Thank you.”
The valet trotted over to my car.
“Nice wheels.” He eyed it from front to back.
“Thanks.” He had better be gentle with it.
He climbed right inside as I assisted Lizzie out of her seat.
Normally at restaurants, fans didn’t bother me unless I was with the guys. And paparazzi was more interested in us as a group rather than solo unless it was Nick. He was an attention whore, always in gossip magazines. He lived the typical life of a rock star: sex, a shitload of alcohol—too much if you asked me—and yes, drugs on occasion, pills mostly.
Lizzie and I were seated in the far back of the restaurant. It was relatively quiet. The small candle on our table enhanced the relaxed atmosphere.
“When I made the reservation, I asked for a private table.”
“It’s perfect.” She neatly placed her napkin on her lap.
That magic word again: perfect. In this moment things did feel pretty fucking perfect. Which usually meant turmoil lay ahead.
I let the thought slide.
“So where is your first stop when you go back on tour?”
“Tampa.”
“That’s not too far from here.”
“Our manager, Camilla, tries to schedule shows close to home when we first get back on the road. After our show in Tampa we’ll continue through Florida. Then it’s on to Georgia, where we’ll play a few shows.”
“Do you stay with your bandmates on the bus?”
“Yeah. A second one houses our roadies and technical staff. Then there are the trucks that carry the equipment.”
“It’s a whole to-do.”
“That it is.”
The waiter approached and poured ice water into our glasses. “I’ll be back shortly to take your beverage order.”
Lizzie jumped back in where she left off. “How did you meet your bandmates?”
Her question proved she had told the truth earlier. Facts about me and the guys were on our website and splattered all over the net, which meant she hadn’t studied in-depth details about us. I respected that. It meant she did want to hear the information from me personally.
“We met in high school. We used to practice in my family’s garage. Still do when we’re not in the studio.”
“Really?” Her brows rose.
“Yup. Really. That’s where we started out and look how far it’s gotten us. Why not stick with what works?”
“How sweet.” She softened in her chair.
“Sweet?”
“Yeah. You guys still play together in your childhood home. I find that sweet.”
“You know what I find sweet?”
“What?”
She knew damn well because she flushed.
I kissed her hand while giving her direct eye contact. “You.”
“Well, you’re not so bad yourself.”
The waiter reappeared with two wine glasses. He set one in front of each of us, then h
eld up a bottle to offer us some.
“No, thank you.” Lizzie raised her hand to prevent the man from pouring any into her glass.
“You don’t want wine with dinner?” I asked.
“No, but I will have an iced tea,” she said to the server.
The waiter nodded. Since Lizzie wasn’t drinking, I figured I wouldn’t either.
“I’ll take one too, please.”
The waiter left.
“Not much of a drinker, huh?”
“No longer. I used to be a bartender. I’m kind of over the alcohol thing.”
That information piqued my interest. “You were a bartender?”
“Sure was.”
“Hmm. A bartender who now works with dementia patients and as a server in a strip club. I’m somewhat confused.”
She removed her hand from mine and fidgeted with her fingers. “Like I said, I’m over the whole alcohol/bartending thing. Being a server pays the bills. Working at the center doesn’t.”
“Then why not work at the club and skip the day job?” Not that I wanted her too. In all earnestness, I hated the idea.
“One is out of necessity. The other is out of need.”
“How so?”
“I make great money in tips at the club. But the job isn’t fulfilling whatsoever.”
Got it. Still, it made me feel bad. Lizzie worked two jobs. If anything, it made me feel thankful for the position I was now in.
“I hear you. How many roommates do you have?”
“There are six of us, total.”
“Holy shit. You live with five women? I don’t want to think about the hormones raging in that place. I thought you said you didn’t like drama.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I’ll admit it can get crazy at times.”
The waiter brought our beverages and placed a basket of warm rolls on the table between us. He then directed his attention at Lizzie. “Are you ready to order?”
“I haven’t looked at the menu yet.” Lizzie picked hers up and scanned through it.
“Do you trust me to order for you?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“Any allergies I should know about?”
She grinned. “None that I’m aware of.”
“We’ll take two filet mignons, cooked medium-well, au gratin potatoes, steamed vegetables, and two house salads.” I handed the waiter our menus.