“I guess so.”
I can’t bring myself to think of my beloved Dustin in rehab. Not him. Not that little sweetheart. He was the youngest of the four boys in the group. The sensitive one. The cutie patootie. Even my mom used to like him.
“I have two tickets for Friday’s show!” She reaches across the table and grabs my hands, and we generally squeal and freak out for a while.
Dustin. My beautiful Dustin.
Our server is laughing when she reaches the table with drinks and nachos. “Good news today, ladies?” she asks.
“You don’t even know.” Hayley beams. “We’re going to see Dustin Grant on Friday night and my boss sort of knows him and I’m gonna introduce us.”
For a second, I’m pretty sure she’s going to ask us to leave. She probably thinks we’ve both had more than enough to drink since what just poured out of Hayley’s mouth sounded like complete nonsense.
“You’ve gotta be kidding.” The girl puts a hand to her chest, which is now heaving. Big time. “Dustin Grant? Holy shit! Oh my God, I loved him so much. I used to make out with his poster on my bedroom wall.”
“My whole bedroom was practically papered with pictures of him. I honest-to-God forgot what my wallpaper looked like.”
Okay, Hayley never told me that one before. And I thought I was a fan. Of course, I never got to first base with a poster like our server did either.
“And you’re gonna meet him?” The girl actually squeezes my shoulder. She’s right here in this moment with me. “I would give my right anything just to get that chance.”
“Even now?” I ask, taking note of this in the back of my head.
How many women our age would still give a body part to get close to somebody like Dustin? I’m going all in on this one. I won’t let my personal feelings, should there be any—there can’t be; there absolutely can’t be—compromise my writing. I’m sure a guy in Dustin’s situation takes advantage of his position. And nostalgia.
Because dang, all of those old feelings are flooding back. I might as well be a kid again. My heart’s all fluttery, and my stomach’s in knots.
I will literally die if I don’t marry him and have his babies.
Holy crap.
The server eventually has to go back to her job, leaving Hayley and me to freak out on our own.
“What should I wear?” I wonder. “I hate everything I own. Nothing is good enough. Do I have time to order something? No, probably not because what if it doesn’t fit? I can order in every size and then send back anything that doesn’t fit. Or I could go shopping at a real store, but ugh, I just did that on Saturday.” I finally stop to take a breath when light-headedness sets in.
“I’m sure you have something that’ll work.”
“Whatever. You just wanna look cuter than me, so he’ll pay attention to you.”
“Ew.”
“It’s true!”
She holds up a hand and tosses her hair over one shoulder. “Whatever. This is all supposed to be about you, remember? For a book?”
“Please. You’re telling me you’d pass up an opportunity to sleep with Dustin if he liked you better?”
Her mouth twitches. “Hey, you never know. Maybe he’ll be into both of us. Maggie’s been on your back about getting involved in a three-way for research, right?”
I wait to swallow a mouthful of nachos because, really, this needs to be fully understood. “Honey, I love you. And I thank you for everything you’ve done to help me with my career. But no.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Dustin Grant.
Kitty Grant.
The wedding of Kathryn Valentine to Dustin Grant.
I can just see our wedding announcement in the Times. Talk about a meet-cute: girl writer goes to the gig of a musician whose storied career has hit the skids, but he’s trying to make a comeback. They end up falling in love and getting married at The St. Regis—no, St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Yes.
“I guess I should keep my name though,” I mutter to my empty apartment as I kick off my shoes. Why’s it so difficult? Because we kept having martinis to celebrate my good fortune.
Our good fortune really, but Hayley was nice enough to make it sound like this was all about me.
I can hardly think straight. This is like every adolescent dream come true.
Gosh, I wish my mom were here to fully understand this.
Just like that, my balloon pops, and I’m plopping down on the sofa. After all these years, there are still moments when it hits me like a punch to the gut. I can’t call my mom to tell her I’m meeting Dustin Grant and maybe smooching him.
Heck, definitely smooching him. I’ll try my damnedest to anyway.
It’s been forever since I’ve even thought about him or the band even though they were such a huge part of my youth. Now, the memories are flooding back. I have to fire up the laptop and pull up some of their music.
Just looking at their album covers takes me back. Sitting in my room, cross-legged on the bed, staring longingly at Dustin’s face. Not only his either—Kevin, Benji, and Tyler were just as cute, but they didn’t have that special factor. The elusive charm.
The hours I spent listening to their music while doing homework, practicing with makeup, cuddling my teddy bear—and yes, pretending it was my favorite band member—were endless. But I didn’t make out with it the way my server made out with her poster. I had standards, even at a young age.
There’s already a Greatest Hits playlist made up for the band, so I hit play and sit back, ready to let the magic unfold. And oh boy, the opening chords of their first hit, “Crazy 4 You”—cleverly named after the band or maybe it was the other way around—are like a time machine. I close my eyes, and I might as well be back in Brooklyn with braces and acne and a terrible crush on the cutest boy in my Spanish class. All the girls loved him.
And when he chose to go out with the cutest girl—because honestly, who else was he going to go out with, a nerd like me?—I locked myself in my room, didn’t bother turning on the lights, and listened to Dustin sing on repeat for hours on end while quietly crying. Dustin would never ignore me or look right through me, would he?
“Because … I’m crazy for you, girl …” I sing, swaying back and forth.
I still know every note. I can’t remember a thing from most of my schooling back in the day, including Spanish because I was too busy crushing, but I remember every last note and word and inflection of these songs.
Maybe a little too well.
The banging from next door breaks me out of my stupor when I’m three songs in. I sit up, scowling. Leave it to Matt to burst my happy bubble.
Well, let’s see how he likes this.
The next thing I know, I’m knocking at his door. Why not? I live here, too, and if he has a problem with me, he can tell me to my face. Alcohol makes me feel so brave.
It’s not Matt who answers the door, which I guess shouldn’t come as a surprise. There’s only one reason he’d go to the trouble of knocking on his bedroom wall.
She’s tall and ridiculously blonde and a little disheveled. Unless I’m mistaken, she’s wearing one of his T-shirts too.
“Hi,” she whispers, the door barely open a crack.
“Hi.” Okay, so this isn’t the most comfortable situation I’ve ever been in, but let’s face it, it’s not the most uncomfortable either. “I live across the hall and share a wall up front with Matt.” I even point down the hall because, yeah, that’s what people do in awkward situations.
“Oh, sure.” She smiles, though the vague look on her face tells me she has no idea what to do with me.
“Anyway, sorry I was being loud; I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to be loud!” I raise my voice a little, so he can hear me, whatever he’s doing. Probably plotting a way to get back at me for being obnoxious. “I mean, we’ve had a little thing going on for a while where I make loud noises when he’s disturbing me and he does the same thing to me when I’m being too loud and you know, I’v
e said too much. Just tell him I didn’t mean it that way. I was going down memory lane, and I didn’t mean to be so loud.” Yeah, I’m still tipsy.
Instead of slamming the door in my face and laughing at me from the other side, she smiles. “Crazy 4 You was my favorite group ever, back in the day.”
“Oh my God, me too!”
“I had the whole sheet set and pillows in the shapes of their faces.”
“No way! I always wanted the pillows!”
“Yeah, my whole bed was covered with them. I probably bankrupted my parents, but what did I know?” She shrugs a little, leaning against the door. “They were my first concert too.”
“I always wanted to go to their shows, but I could never score tickets.”
“My dad knew a guy who was able to get them for me. I was super popular for, like, five minutes when people at school found out about it.”
“Uh, Jess? Are you coming back?” Matt calls from somewhere inside the apartment.
“Yeah, be right there,” she answers over her shoulder before turning to me. “Anyway, I was there for the show where that girl got onstage and tried to take Benji’s clothes off and ended up getting arrested. I was close enough to see his happy trail, and I just about died on the spot.”
“Lucky!”
“I know, right? I thought my fifteen-year-old heart would explode. My mom tried to cover my eyes; can you believe it?”
We both laugh over this like old friends. There are certain things in life that unite people, I guess. Juvenile puppy love is one of those things.
“Jess?” Matt’s voice is a little louder this time, a little more insistent. “Still waiting for you.”
“Just a second.” She rolls her eyes, and I have to bite back a giggle.
“Guess what.” I drop my voice to a whisper. “I’m going to meet Dustin this weekend.”
Her eyes go perfectly round. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”
“I’m serious!”
“How? Where? Oh my God.”
“He’s doing a gig somewhere in the city. Did you not know that?” We might as well be old friends now. “Yeah, he’s doing small shows on his own all over the place. You should look it up! Maybe there are still tickets. I’d have you come with us, but my friend only got two through her boss.”
“Oh damn! I would love to. Do you know where it is?”
“I don’t. She just told me about it tonight, which is what got me listening to the music. I’m gonna do my best to get a date with him, so I can write about it—not him specifically, but what it would be like to go out with a famous musician.”
“Oh my God, you’re gonna date him?” She grabs my arm. “Do you understand what I would do, even to this day, for a chance like that?”
“I’m gonna try!”
We both burst into giggles and are still giggling when Matt comes walking through the living room.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Matt eyes me with suspicion. He’s shirtless and shoeless, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans he didn’t bother buttoning. Speaking of happy trails, his is plainly visible.
To think, there was a time when the sight of that would get my blood pumping. When the sight of Matt in general made me tongue-tied and awkward—even more than I usually am—because I found his hotness intimidating. Like he said, now, it feels more like we’re siblings than anything else.
Which is cool. I don’t have any siblings or any family at all, except my grandmother, so this works. It also means I don’t have to care very much when he shoots me a dirty look for distracting his piece for the night with a trip down memory lane.
I put on my happiest smile. “We were just chatting.”
“About Crazy 4 You,” Jess adds.
He scratches his head, looking from one of us to the other. “You lost me.”
“Big surprise.” I roll my eyes at Jess, who giggles but tries to hide it.
“Sorry. I wasn’t big into boy bands when I was a teenager. I didn’t know that was a crime.” He’s still looking rather vague, which I guess is understandable under the circumstances.
“She’s going to meet Dustin! The cutest one!” Jess swoons a little, which Matt does not look completely thrilled over.
I guess I wouldn’t be thrilled either if a girl swooned over another guy after she came home with me.
Then, he puts it together. I can tell by the little twinkle in his eye, the twitch of his mouth.
“I thought you said it had to be a rock star.”
“A musician. And he used to be one!” I can tell my defense doesn’t hold water because, now, he’s smirking.
“Right. Used to be. Well, I guess it’s easier to hook up with a has-been than with an actual current star.”
“Has-been?” Jess and I squeak in unison.
He can tell he made a mistake. “Whoops. Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt the meeting of the fan club.”
“He’s not a has-been.” I fold my arms, glaring at him. “And at least he has the guts to get back out there and revive his career.”
“Right.” Jess pokes his arm. “I’m sure there are people like you who would rather make fun of him, but at least he had a big career and was one of the most famous people in the world. Can you imagine what that would be like for a teenager? I could barely handle being a normal, regular person at that age.”
“I can barely handle it now,” I add.
Matt rolls his eyes. “No comment.”
“That was comment enough.”
Jess is still on her soapbox. “I think it’s brave of him to do it.”
I like this girl. It’s a shame I’ll never see her again. While Matt has slowed the flow of women parading in and out of his apartment, he’s not one for settling down.
Would it be tacky if I asked for her phone number since we’ll never see each other again otherwise? Yeah, that would probably be tacky.
“I think it’s brave too.”
We both stare at Matt, daring him to disagree with us.
He shrugs, giving us both the delight of seeing his bare shoulders flexing. The boy does know how to take care of himself; I’ll give him that much.
“Whatever. I’m outnumbered. And now, I’m going back to my room. Not alone, I hope.” He gives me one last look, containing about a million warnings to stay out of his personal business, before turning around and granting me a view of his glorious butt as he saunters back to his bedroom.
He might act like a brother to me. That doesn’t mean I can’t admire his body. We’re not actually related.
Jess sighs like the prospect of geeking out with me is more attractive than what we just watched—and what she was probably in the middle of enjoying before my little impromptu concert began. “Anyway, I’m super jealous of you and hope you get to date Dustin. Think of it as, like, doing it for all of us. All the girls who ever dreamed he would pick them out of a crowd.”
Dang it, I don’t know whether to hug this girl or salute or burst into tears. “I will.”
“I’d better get back to him. It was so nice meeting you!” She gives me a little wave before closing the door.
I can’t wait for Matt to get on my case for interrupting him.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Noooo!”
“How do you think I feel?”
“But you have to come with me!”
“Do you think I actually want to miss this? I’ve only been looking forward to it all week. I bought a new dress and everything.”
I can practically hear Hayley pouting on the other end of the call, where she’s sitting at her desk.
I shouldn’t give her a hard time about this. It’s not like she wants to miss the show. But I feel really lousy now that she’s told me she can’t come along, thanks to work that absolutely has to be done by the end of the day. Meaning it doesn’t matter whether the poor girl gets out of the office before midnight so long as it’s finished.
Which means I can’t just go without reminding her how much more fun it would be to
have her with me. “I don’t have to go tonight,” I offer. “Maybe we can get tickets for another show. I can write different situations without actually needing to meet him. In fact, I don’t need to meet him at all. I bet I could make something up now that I’ve had a little more practice in writing steamier books.”
“Kitty Valentine. Are you for real?”
I don’t know what to make of the stern tone she just adopted in her voice.
“I think so?”
“Do you honestly mean to tell me you would give up an opportunity like this? To fulfill a lifelong dream?”
“Let’s be fair. I don’t know if I would call it a lifelong dream precisely.”
“You know what I mean. This is a big deal for you. I want you to go. I know it sucks, having to go by yourself, and I wish there were something I could do about it. But I absolutely won’t have you missing out on this just because I have to work late on a Friday night.”
“The show doesn’t start until nine. Are you sure you won’t have the time?”
“I’ll be lucky if I leave here by then.” There’s so much disappointment in her voice; it just about breaks my heart. “Even if I could leave before then, I would want to freshen up, and it’s not like I brought my outfit with me.”
“I could go to your apartment and grab it for you, if you want. I could drop it off at your office.”
“You really are too sweet.” She’s smiling, I can tell. But that doesn’t make things any better. “Really, it’s okay. Who knows? If the two of you hit it off, you could invite me to the next show. Or to your wedding.”
“Hang on a second.” I laugh, and my cheeks get all hot and flushed even though I know what she’s saying is totally ridiculous and would never happen. “For one thing, you’re the one who always reminds me that I need to keep things casual. For another thing, how the heck am I supposed to meet him if you’re not there to introduce us?”
“Oh, right. Darn it, I forgot that part.”
“I could still go to your apartment to get your clothes.” I really wish she would give me the okay on this because I would rather not do this alone. What’s the point of going to see him if I don’t have her to break the ice?
Kitty Valentine Dates a Rock Star Page 3