I’ve seen beautiful girls before. But there’s something about this woman that steals my complete attention. I’m bowled over. Shocked from the inside out. Maybe it’s the way her eyes hold mine before she shyly glances away. Or that the grin on her lips doesn’t feel forced or fake. Those lips. I could write songs about them.
“You good?” Lucas says from a few feet away.
I shake off the weird trance and meet his stare. “Yeah, sorry.” I catch up to his side before chancing another look at the girl. But she’s talking to her friend, and apparently not as affected from our mini stare down.
Lucas chats up a group of guys, then a kid shopping with his mom, and all the while I try not to stare at the woman. An irrational fear that she’ll leave before we get the chance to talk keeps my mind distracted.
“What gives?” Lucas says after we hand out another two flyers and make our way toward the back of the store. “You’re being a horrible wingman today.”
“Sorry.” I want to explain. I would; it’s not as if I keep much from him or the rest of the guys. Only, I can’t because the person who has somehow shorted my brain cells is walking straight toward us. “Hey.” I don’t even try to fight the smile that pulls at my lips when she meets my gaze. “I need to know you.”
“Um . . .” She laughs lightly and glances at her friend before honoring me with a flirty smile. “Okay.”
“Wow,” Lucas says under his breath, and by his tone, I surmise he’s attempting not to laugh at my poor attempt at flirting.
“Do you ladies live around here?” I ask, and flash a smile at the friend to not be rude.
“Yeah,” pretty girl says, humor in her tone.
“We both go to UC Riverside. I’m Jenn,” the friend says, giving a flutter of her fingers. “And this is Simone.”
Simone. Fuck, even her name is beautiful.
“Nice to meet you ladies. I’m Lucas.” My friend nods his chin to me. “And this is Wild.”
Pulling my head out of my ass, I angle my body a little closer to Simone and turn my back to Lucas, who’s the best freaking friend in the world, already striking up a conversation with the friend. “What kind of music do you like, Simone?”
She hesitates before answering, and I wonder if she’s as knocked over as I am right now. “I listen to everything.”
“Everything?” My brows shoot into my hairline.
“Okay.” She grins, crinkling her nose. “Not big on country.”
“What about alternative rock?”
“Depends on the band.”
“Do you like Weezer? Fuel?” At her blank expression I continue. “Foo Fighters?” This poor girl has no clue who I’m talking about. “At least, tell me you’ve heard of Pearl Jam?”
“That’s Eddie Vedder, right?” Her face lights up. “I loved ‘Singles!’”
“You know him from the movie.” I laugh heartily. This chick is a breath of fresh air. “I’m worried about your taste in music. Seriously, I know we just met, but I’m staging an intervention.” I hand her one of the flyers. “My band is playing tonight and I’d love if you came by to catch the show. Maybe we could grab a drink after?”
Lucas claps me on the shoulder. “My man here is wicked talented. It’ll be a lot of fun.”
Her eyes scan the details.
I wait with nervous anticipation. I can’t monopolize her time much longer—not when we have a stack of flyers to distribute and sound check in a few hours. But if she comes to the show, I’ll have another shot.
“Which one are you?” she asks, lifting her eyes back to mine as her friend takes the flyer.
“Wild Knights.”
“Oh.” She meets my gaze with a smile that sends a rush of nerves straight through my body. “Like the name. That’s cool.”
I don’t bother explaining the rest, because that’s a story that makes me exponentially less cool. “So, you’ll come? The venue’s only a few miles from here.”
Her lips press together and she glances at her friend. God, I wish I knew the reason for her indecision. Because I really, really want more time with this woman. There’s something about her—a sizzling connection between us that’s hooked my soul, and I can’t let her go. Not yet. I wait for her answer, but she doesn’t give it.
Her friend interrupts with a slight roll of her eyes. “She’ll be there.”
Simone
“Maybe,” I interject as soon as Jenn makes a promise I can’t keep.
“I hope so. I’d really like to see you. Again. After right now. That is, it’d be cool to hang out later.” It’s sort of adorable the way his words stumble out of his mouth. I much prefer this to the practiced pick-up lines one comes to expect from such a hot guy’s lips.
His buddy, Lucas, slaps his back and clasps his shoulder. “What my friend is trying to say is that we better see you lovely ladies tonight.” He glances over his shoulder at the door. “But we have a few more flyers to hand out before sound checks, so we need to head out.”
“What he said.” Wild chuckles, granting me another view of his dimpled smile. He’s exactly the kind of guy I’m attracted to—even if he’s also the kind I’d never date. Too good looking; he must know it. Not to mention, he’s in a band. If that’s not rebellious enough, his sleeve of tatts completes the look. Trouble is not what I need.
Stable. Practical. Responsible. These are the cornerstones of what I’m searching for in a boyfriend. But Wild’s smile and the glint in his hazel eyes—a little pleasure mixed with mischief—suck me in regardless.
“It was nice meeting you.” My gaze lingers on his, the connection between us something that’s both a thrill and terrifying.
“See you tonight.” He waves and then his friend is pulling him out of the store. Probably on to another unsuspecting and innocent woman who will fall for his good looks and rock star vibe.
If he’s faking interest, he sure puts on a show, looking over his shoulder three times on the way out. Each time, he catches me staring back because I can’t seem to tear my eyes away. I shake my head. The last thing I need is to chase a hot rock star.
“Oh, my God!” Jenn practically screams once they’re outside.
I cringe and rub my ear. “Seriously, Jenn.”
“How are you not freaking out right now? He totally was into you!”
“He’s just trying to fill a venue.” I blow her off, but that excuse doesn’t feel true. Wild and I shared a connection—an instant attraction I’ve never experienced before, and now that he’s gone I’m shaken by the experience. I pretend to flip through the shirts on the next clothing rack.
“Liar.” She calls me on my bullshit, one of the reasons she’s such a good friend. “I saw the way you two were eye fucking each other. I think you might be pregnant.”
“Stop.” I roll my eyes and laugh.
“I’m gonna pay for these.” She holds up the clothes she tried on earlier.
“Okay.” I wander toward the front of the shop, mostly to get some space and clear my mind. A little to see if I can spot Wild through the storefront’s wall of tinted glass. My stomach falls with disappointment when I don’t.
Which is so not my style. I don’t pine for bad boys or chase something that’ll only hurt my heart in the long run.
“Ready?” Jenn’s loaded down with four bags. The girl can shop.
“Yeah,” I say and step forward, holding the door for her as we exit. It’s a warm afternoon now that the clouds have cleared, and I slide on my shades for the walk back to Jenn’s car. Also, because they provide a little protection as I search for Wild in the crowd of Saturday mall-goers. Only, my effort is for nothing because we don’t run into him again.
“Okay, in all seriousness, you’re going tonight,” Jenn says, popping open the door to her Mazda and piling her bags in the back. She meets my gaze from over the roof of the car before getting in. “You have to.”
“To the concert?” I pull open my door and sit, buckling up as she starts the car. “You know I ca
n’t. I have to work.”
“Oh, my God. Please. Stop,” she whines. “You don’t have to be so damn responsible. Live a little.”
“There’s no way I can get someone to cover my shift tonight. It’s too last minute.” Plus, I really need the money. I don’t say that part though. I don’t need to levy my problems on anyone else. Not that she’d even get it. Twenty years old and she still gets a weekly allowance from her parents. It’s why she dragged me out to the mall in the first place.
“Call in sick. Something. You have a hot guy who wants you and you’re going to pass on that?”
“I can’t.” I sigh, because although it goes against everything I’ve worked for, I’m so tempted. “But you should go.”
“Without you?” She rolls her eyes. “No way. Besides, it wasn’t me that boy was digging.”
“What about Luke—or Lucas?” Shit. I’ve already forgotten.
“Not my type. Besides, I’m hanging out with Cody tonight.” She’s got a thing for jocks, so it makes sense she’d pick a frat boy over a musician. Heck, normally I would rather be at a football game cheering on our revered Highlanders. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
At the stoplight she twists in her seat to meet my gaze. “Don’t let the world pass you by. You deserve some fun, especially with how hard you work. Promise me you won’t give up on the possibility of something good just because it doesn’t fit in your plan.”
Her words cut to the core. I swallow back the surge of pain that comes from their truthfulness and glance out the window so she won’t know how much.
Don’t let the world pass you by. Is that what I’m doing? I’ve been so focused on my goals, getting through my coursework and setting myself up for the life I want. I can’t just bail on work, but if I don’t go tonight am I missing out on an opportunity I’ll always regret?
“Promise,” I answer with a gentle whisper, one she might not even hear above the radio. I want to see Wild again, just this once, even if it is the worst idea in the world.
Wilder
“She here?” Lucas asks, clasping me on the shoulder as we step off stage.
“Who?” I pack up my guitar, pretending I’m confused by his question, but we both know who I’m looking for. I searched for her in the crowd the entire time we were on stage.
“The girl from the mall.” He rolls his eyes, lips twisting to a smile as he meets my stare. “Cut the crap, Wild. You’ve had a hard-on from the moment your eyes collided with hers.”
“Reading Big John’s bodice-rippers?” Our bandmate is forever picking up romance novels.
“Fuck off.” He shoves at my shoulder and laughs. His face sobers as he takes in the people milling around. With our set finished, it’s time to tear down our equipment so the next band can set up. “She’s really not here.”
“She said maybe.”
“Still.” He shrugs, buckling his guitar into its case. “I thought she’d show.”
“Me too.” I don’t mean to admit it aloud, but the words slip past my lips regardless. “We loading up?”
“Eh, the guys got it.” He takes my case along with his and stacks them with our growing pile of equipment. Matty and Big John are on stage taking apart his drum kit, and Keat is flirting with a few girls nearby. I expect Lucas will join him, but he surprises me by nodding toward the bar. “Let’s go get a drink.”
“They’re gonna be pissed.” I laugh, picturing the shit they’ll give us, but walk toward the bar regardless. When it comes to the grunt work, Lucas and I get out of most of it. I’m surprised Big John, Keat, and Matty haven’t revolted—or at least staged some sort of payback.
“Two of whatever you have on tap,” Lucas shouts to the bartender, and holds up two fingers.
While at the bar, my eyes flick to the door each time it opens. I half pay attention to Lucas as he talks about the show and what we should change. Normally, it’s the type of conversation that would steal my attention. I’m a perfectionist when it comes to our music, so much it causes actual fights within the band. But for once it’s the furthest thought from my mind. I’m still stuck on the girl from the mall, and kicking myself for not getting her number. The more I sip my beer, the more my hope of ever seeing her again disappears.
But then the door opens. A woman steps inside, and my heart practically stutters.
It’s her.
Simone.
And fuck if she doesn’t look even better than this afternoon. She’s not dressed like most of the concert goers, opting for casual jeans and a top. She also stands out with her lack of makeup and hair pulled back in a ponytail. But there’s no denying her natural beauty or banging body.
“Stay cool, tiger.” Lucas follows my gaze. “Let her come to you.”
“Fuck that,” I mutter, and push away from the bar, weaving through the crowded venue like a man on a mission. Because that’s what I am. The thought of anyone else approaching her or delaying this opportunity spurs my feet forward. Hell, I’m surprised I don’t run.
Her gaze, searching the room, collides with mine and I’m struck once again with a feeling and force I don’t recognize. She steals the breath from my lungs. Makes my legs weak. She’s the muse I can’t wait to write songs about.
“Hey.” I smile, full and unabashed. “You came.”
“I missed you, didn’t I?” she says with contrition in both her voice and expression. She nods to the stage as the lights flicker and lower—the sign the next act is on shortly.
The crowd goes wild—much louder than for us, but I don’t take it personally. The band on stage is originally from San Diego and their hardcore fans made the trip to be here. The only problem is I can’t talk to Simone—not unless I want to shout into her ear—and it’s about to get a whole lot louder.
“You wanna get out of here?”
Fans scream. Drums beat and an electric guitar wails with the opening chords. My eardrums prick with discomfort.
“I just got here.” She laughs, clutching her jacket in her hands but nods anyway. “Okay.”
We turn toward the exit and I place my hand at the small of her back. My fingers buzz at the heat of her body, itching for something more than gentleman-like. Outside the venue, a haze of smoke mingles with the night air. People mill around, inhaling cigarettes and chatting with friends.
“You smoke?” I ask, even though I already guess the answer.
“No. You?”
“Only weed.”
“Oh.” She bites at her lower lip and glances away, nerves apparent in the stiffness of her shoulders.
“Not that I’m planning on getting high right now.”
“Good. I mean, that’s cool if you want to.” She shrugs. “I’m just not really . . . it’s not my scene.”
“Want to grab a drink instead?”
“Oh, I can’t.” She must notice the furrow to my brow. “I mean, I’m not twenty-one yet.”
“Oh. Shit.” Fuck. She looks about my age. Maybe a little younger, but if she’s in high school, I might actually die of embarrassment. “How old are you exactly?”
“Twenty.” She laughs at the relief in my features, no doubt following my train of thought. “Don’t worry, I’m not jailbait.”
I give her body a long pursual. Her top is fitted to the curves of her small breasts, and the hem is short enough to show off a few inches of skin above the waistband of her jeans. Creamy skin teasing and tempting for more. “Thank fuck for that.”
A blush travels up her cheeks.
“How about coffee instead?”
She exhales, her shoulders loosening with apparent nerves. She offers me a grin. “I’d like that. There’s a place down the street.” She points and we begin walking.
“Did you drive?”
“No, a friend dropped me off.”
“Jenn?” I’m surprised she came alone. Glad she did. But women tend to flock together.
“One of my co-workers, actually. I wait tables at a steakhouse.
” She crinkles her nose. “God, I probably smell like baked potatoes.”
I laugh and take the excuse to lean a little closer. I inhale and catch the scent of her perfume. A flowery mix that reminds me of wildflowers. “Nope. You’re good.” More than good. I wish I could bury my hands in her hair, pull her close, and taste her lips. But chances of that happening are slim to none. Not with me leaving tomorrow. A woman like Simone isn’t a groupie. She’s not the type who’s down for a quick fuck. I’ve met those women before. Simone’s the person you get to know, falling deeper with each conversation—and evoking all kinds of feelings until they’re so strong taking it to the next level becomes as necessary as breathing. It’s partially why I’m so drawn to her. It’s why I can’t walk away even though it’d probably be the easier path.
“Sorry I missed you play. I wanted to see the show; it’s just I couldn’t ditch work and things got crazy during my shift. I bounced as soon as I could.”
“It’s okay.” Sure, I would have liked for her to see us play, but this is better. “I’m glad you’re here now.”
“Me too.” She bites back a smile.
We come to a late night diner and I pull open the door for her. Stepping inside, it’s apparent this place is a post-party hangout for locals. The small space is loud, filled with rowdy patrons, and not at all conducive to intimate conversation.
“Come on.” She catches my attention and we walk through the restaurant and around the corner to a table for two tucked behind the chaos. It’s nearly hidden from the front room, closer to the emergency exit, and absolutely perfect.
She slides into the chair opposite of mine and waves at a passing waitress.
“You brought a friend today,” the older woman exclaims, her arms piled with plates of food. “Y’all need menus?”
“Just coffee for now,” Simone says before settling her gaze back on mine. “I hope this is okay.”
“It’s great.” I prop my elbows on the tabletop and lean forward. My fingers itch to reach across the table to touch her, which is irrational because she’s not mine and we’ve just met. I press them together and rest my chin on them. “You’re like a local celebrity.”
My Night with a Rockstar Page 33