LOW: A Rockstar Romance

by Lux,Vivian

  Greg stood up and kissed my forehead. "Nope," he said casually. "You chose him, so... no. You wouldn't let anyone love you less than I do." He looked back at my mom. "We do," he corrected. Then he turned back to me. "So, can you get us tickets next time they have a show?"

  "I'm uh. I can try. They're sort of taking a break from touring right now."

  "Huh." Greg got up and cleared my empty plate for me. "That's a bummer. Bad timing Zoe."

  I stuck out my tongue at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen, laughing all the while.

  My mom was still gazing at me with that patented look of hers. The one that rolls boundless love and boundless worry into one heavy-lidded glance. She expected so much for me, with but was always careful not to let it be too much. I grew up quickly because my mom needed me, though she would rather die than hear me say that. To this day, I kept quiet about the things I missed out on, because in the end, they didn't matter at all.

  Things became easier when she married Greg. I was right there at their wedding, stiff and proud in my adult role as maid of honor. And when he put the ring on her finger, he then got down and put a ring on my thumb too.

  As I grew it fit my pointer, then my ring finger. Now I wear it around my pinkie, and if this layer of sadfat got too out of control, I would put it on a chain and wear it over my heart.

  I twisted that ring right now. "You need to say anything, Mom?" I asked.

  "Can we meet him?"

  I ducked a little when I remembered that we had kissed right by the front door and she had been folding laundry upstairs, completely oblivious to my world being rocked. "Of course," I promised her. "He's actually, uh, he's going to pick me up. I'm going to his place to spend the night."

  To her credit, my mother didn't let the little involuntary stiffening she did at the thought of me spending the night at a guy's house be too too obvious. Just a small, subtle pressing together of her lips. If I hadn't spent my whole life watching her reactions, I would have missed it entirely. "That sounds lovely," she croaked and took a delicate sip of her wine.

  "It is," I said. But there was something else I needed to tell her. Something more important. "Max met him," I said carefully.

  "Oh? When?"

  "This morning. We ran into him at the park. Low pushed him on the swing."

  "Did Max like him?"

  "He called him Mr. Low and wouldn't let him stop pushing him for like a solid hour. And Low stuck with it." I swallowed. Now was the time. "Mom, I told him what was going on."

  This time, the stiffening was much more apparent. My mother set down her wineglass with the greatest care, but her hand lingered, dragging down the table before falling limply into her lap. "It's that serious, Zoe?"

  I took a deep breath, opened and closed my mouth. "I think so, Mom. Yeah."

  A small smile grew wider and wider until she was full-on beaming. "Then congratulations, honey. That's wonderful news."

  "You're not mad I told?"

  "I trust that you have Max's best interest at heart. I know how much you love your brother."

  "I do."

  "And if this guy is going to be coming around a lot...."

  The sudden sound of the doorbell after weeks of it not working made us both jump.

  "Door!" shouted Max. "No door! No door!" He ran full tilt into the dining room to bury his face in my mom's lap, covering his ears with his hands.

  "Greg, honey? The doorbell is way too loud," my mom called.

  I popped up, dropping my fork to the floor and adding to the general cacophony. "Holy shit," I said, looking at my phone. "I'm late!"

  The doorbell rang again. Max shrieked and ran for it, shouting about shutting off the loud noise.

  "Wait! Max honey? Pants!" I cried, running after him. "You need pants! Don't open that..."

  But my brother was fast. And slippery. And really fucking fast. He grabbed the door and flung it open so hard it banged against the wall.

  "Hey there little dude!" Low smiled down at Max.

  Max looked up at him and yelled, then ran away, bare ass flapping in the breeze.

  "You remember Max, right?" I sighed. "

  "I see he's got it all figured out. Pants are a prison."

  "He sure thinks so. Sorry for the impromptu show there."

  He grinned at me. "I'm all about shows."

  The way he said it made me flush, at the exact moment that my stepfather decided to get all manly-man-protector-bear on me. "Greg Chandler," he said, striding forward with his hand out.

  "Lowell Stowe." Low met his eyes and gave a handshake so firm I saw Greg wince a little.

  Then all pretense of manly introductions fell away and Greg turned into some kind of swoony superfan right in front of my eyes. "I'm so excited to meet you in person. I have to tell you, your drumming on the intro to Basic Desires, it's just...it's flawless."

  Low looked utterly startled that the man with graying temples was waxing poetic about his music, but to his credit, he just smiled graciously and thanked my stepdad. And I kind of loved them both for this sweet little moment.

  I grabbed my bag. "You sure Max is going to be okay with this?" I asked my mom.

  She put her hand on Max's head. He was suddenly, blessedly, wearing pants, and was watching me with those big, wide eyes of his. "We prepped him better this time," she reassured me. "We talked about it, and even added you to the picture schedule. 'Zoe comes back' comes right after breakfast and before he has to get dressed."

  "That's right," I echoed, getting down and looking my brother in the eye. "I'll be back in the morning."

  "In the morning."

  "After Froot Loops."

  "After Froot Loops," he parroted. Then he suddenly looked up at Low with a look of proud realization. "Zo-weee goin' with Mr. Low!"

  I could see both of my parents try to mask their startled reactions to Max acknowledging Low. But my rockstar fantasy-man got down on his one knee and nodded solemnly. "That's right. But I'm going to bring her back."

  "After Froot Loops," Max declared.

  "That's right dude. Wanna shake on it?"

  "High-five might work better," my mom interjected.

  "Then can I have a high-five?"

  Max thought for a minute, then grinned his mischievous little grin and outright whaled on Low's hand. "Oh no! My career!" Low cried, staggering backward in mock anguish.

  Max grinned, then opened his mouth and announced he had to go potty.

  "I think that's a good cue to leave!" I chirped, practically pushing Low out the door before Max changed his mind about letting us leave.

  "I like your family," Low observed, once we were out on the walk."

  I bit my lip to keep the smile from breaking my face. "Me too."

  Chapter 30

  Low

  I could see it in the way she walked across the threshold and into my apartment. Her thoughts were so clear it was like I could read them off a projector screen on her forehead.

  "This is his world," she was thinking. "And I'm in it."

  Unfortunately, the fucking paparazzi camped out across the street were a part of my world now as well. I think we managed to duck them before they spotted us, but there was no way to know for sure unless we checked the gossip sites. Which I patently refused to do.

  I sure as shit wasn't having Zoe overnight and then spending it on the fucking computer.

  She walked around, taking in the spare, clean space. I only moved in six months ago, buying it sight unseen around the time our last tour was winding down. I hadn't given much thought to decorating the place, but now seeing it through Zoe's eyes, I wished I'd thought of putting out a picture or two, maybe setting out a fruit bowl or some shit. This place looked like a monastery.

  "You're not really into...stuff, are you?" she asked, turning a circle on the bare floor.

  "I didn't exactly realize that until right at this moment," I confessed with a grin.

  She went to the window and looked down. "Are they always out th
ere?" she said, gesturing to the camped out pack of vultures in the park across the street. The park I had my real estate agent scout specifically for my runs and now I had to steer clear of. Which was some epic level bullshit.

  "It sure fucking seems that way. I mean, it's always the same guys. I find myself wondering if TMZ doesn't just stick their cameras in the hands of homeless people and tell them to go nuts. It's like they live there."

  "Where do you think they go to the bathroom?" Zoe wondered.

  I made a "right there" gesture with my hand and she wrinkled her nose. "Oh, Low. Oh, that's just...."

  "Yeah," I shrugged. "It's been an adjustment, to say the least."

  She reached out and took my hand. "Then let's stop thinking about them."

  I looked down at her fingers twined in mine, and the mischievous little smile that danced on her lips. "Thinking about what?" I growled as I yanked her to my side. She giggled and then sighed into my chest, and I felt the loosening between both of us. It was like a door that had been opened only a crack was finally swinging wide open.

  "Where's your bedroom?" she murmured over my heart.

  For my answer, I swept her up into my arms and fucking ran to the bed. Laughing, she tore my shirt over my head and we fell in a tangle of limbs, clothes flying everywhere until we both fell breathlessly naked into the mattress.

  She pushed herself up on her elbow and looked at me, absentmindedly rubbing her head up and down my side. She was here in my bed, next to me, and I suddenly flashed to all of the times I had yearned for this moment. Not just fucking her here, but waking up next to her too.

  Fuck. I loved her.

  The second I realized that everything sort of slid into place, and all the worrying I had done about how to do this finally flowed away, leaving nothing in its place but wonder. It didn't matter how I would do this. It just mattered that I was doing it. I loved Zoe and I'd figured out all of the particulars later.

  "Low?" She leaned over me. "You look weird."

  "Weird?"

  "What are you thinking?"

  "You mean you can't tell?"

  She brushed her hand down my chest and down between my legs to grip me with her soft little hand. "I actually can't read your mind," she whispered, taking my lip gently between her teeth. Fuck, her hand on my cock, I was already moving my hips, fast and slow, it felt so fucking good to have her touch me. "But maybe you can guess what I'm thinking?"

  "I hope you're thinking about how well I'm going to fuck you in a minute."

  "Close," she said, moving her hand even faster.

  I groaned and arched into her. "You're thinking about climbing on top of me and riding me 'til we're both saddle-sore."

  "Well, now I am," she moaned. Then she gave an adorable shake of her head, her hair swinging. "You're distracting me."

  "Sorry, but you're kind of driving me nuts here."

  "I was thinking how I've never had you in my mouth."

  I stopped mid-thrust and looked at her, heart suddenly banging around in my chest.

  "Why is that, Low?"

  I licked my lips. It was pretty fucking hard to have this conversation with her soft hand stroking my length. At the moment it was a perfectly legitimate question. Why the fuck hadn't I let her do that?

  "Because," I struggled, "Wait, you're going to have to slow down there, baby, let some of the blood flow back to my brain so I can talk here." She giggled and loosened her grip, but did not let go.

  I pushed up onto my elbow and reached out to brush the hair away from her face. "Because I didn't want to be selfish?" I said slowly. It was more of a question than a statement.

  She cocked her head. "You put your mouth on me on our first date. Was I being selfish in letting you?"

  I shook my head emphatically. "No. I just...I have this thing. I don't want to hurt anyone...ever. So I...."

  "You give and are afraid to take?" she finished.

  I blinked at her. "How is it that you get me so well?"

  She smiled shyly. "Just lucky I guess." Then she licked her lips. "But you're just going to have to lie back and take this, Mr. Perfect." Her tongue flicked across the top of my dick and holy shit I saw stars. "If you need to, think of it as me being the one that's selfish."

  Her hot mouth enveloped me and I closed my eyes and fell back, letting her take control. And I don't know what kind of magical shit Zoe was doing with her tongue, her lips, her little greedy noises, but she somehow managed to make it seem like I was the one giving something to her, and for that I was so fucking grateful that I shouted the three word realization right at the moment I came into her mouth. She smiled as she looked up at me, still stroking my length, and I knew she thought it was just a reaction to the orgasm, but I knew. I knew it was real and I knew I'd be saying it again and again, at every opportunity.

  Chapter 31

  Zoe

  My alarm went off far earlier than I wanted it to.

  Low sighed and rolled over, pulling his long body around mine. We fit together so perfectly that I could just stay here in this bed forever and know that it was where I belonged.

  But...

  "Low honey? I gotta get back."

  He made a groaning sound and pulled back to stretch. "Are we getting close to Froot Loops time?"

  I leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for getting why that's important. "

  "Family," he nodded. "Yeah."

  I flopped back over and turned the alarm off on my phone. Then, out of habit, I went to check my email for any word on my applications.

  "Hey, what's your Wi-Fi password?" I asked.

  He stretched. "It's not locked," he said, rubbing his eyes, then reaching over and pointing at my screen. "It's that one."

  "You named your Wi-Fi 'Ruthless?'"

  "I was on tour at the time and my real estate agent set it up for me. I never bothered to change it."

  I cocked my head at him. "Seriously?"

  "What's wrong with that?"

  I shrugged again. "I don't know, I guess, it just seems little obvious, don't you think? Aren't you worried about being hacked?"

  He wagged his finger at me. "See, therein lies the brilliance. It's too obvious. People would think there was no way that I could possibly be that easy, and therefore they'd try everything else first."

  I shook my head. "What do I know? I'm about as far from a technology type person as possible."

  "Aren't you a writer?"

  I scrolled through the menus on my phone. "If typewriters were still a thing that were used, I would totally be down for that. Clacking keys, the smell of correction fluid," I shivered dramatically. "Oh baby, gets me all worked up."

  He smiled that smile of his, the one that made my toes wiggle involuntarily. "Hey now," he said, voice low and thrilling. "I don't want to be getting jealous of inanimate objects here, but, down baby girl."

  I laughed. "On the list of things that turn me on, you're in a very close race with my antique Smith Corona."

  He made an aggrieved noise, but I ignored him while I checked my email. Hitting refresh five times in a row did absolutely nothing. Nobody had contacted me yet.

  With a dramatic sigh, I dropped my phone over the side of the bed, and flopped backward, allowing the scent of him to billow up from the sheets in a warm, enveloping cloud. "Why do you smell so good?" I demanded.

  He climbed over me. "Just lucky I guess," he murmured, taking my lip between his teeth.

  *****

  We were almost late for Froot Loops time, but Low drove like a maniac and got me there in time to see my brother pop the last artificially colored circle into his mouth. "Zo-weee!" Max shouted and padded over for a one-armed hug.

  "I'll see you later?" Low asked, ruffling Max's hair as he looked at me.

  "How much later?" I wanted to know.

  He rolled his eyes. "There's some shit I need to check in on with the band, and my manager is up my ass to sign on to some sponsorship deal, which means I have all this paperwork
I need to pretend I understand."

  I went up on tiptoe and kissed his frowning mouth. "You call me, okay?"

  "I'll be looking at those pictures until I see you again," he warned.

  "That sounds like a threat."

  "Nope. A promise."

  I laughed and kissed him one more time, then watched him pull away from my driveway with my heart swelling up bigger and bigger until it felt like it was going to push up out of my mouth, forcing the words "I love you" to tumble from my lips.

  It hit me in the chest like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking me backward. "I love you," I mouthed. His car disappeared around the corner and I smiled, thinking of telling it to him in person.

  I couldn't wait.

  "Wanna go out!"

  I looked down and suddenly realized that my brother had been yelling at me the entire time I stood like a statue at the front door. "Wanna go out!" Max demanded. He hung from the doorknob, bouncing repeatedly on his toes.

  I shook my head, clearing the fantasy from my brain.

  "You need to go potty first."

  "Wanna go out!" he shrieked. This had been happening a lot lately. He'd get stuck on a phrase or an idea and there'd be no dislodging it.

  "Max. Find my eyes." He blinked once, touched his eye, and then looked up at me. "Max. First potty, then the park."

  "First potty, the park," he echoed. And just like that, the power struggled was over and he tripped happily to the bathroom. I slumped against the doorframe and closed my eyes.

  "Need help!" he called from the bathroom.

  My eyes snapped open. "Good talking, bud," I called, making sure to praise him for using words instead of shrieking. I stood in the doorway to the bathroom. "What do you need help with?"

  "Need help," he said, tugging at his waistband.

  "Oh buddy, you're getting too big for these pants," I sighed, helping him tug the slightly too small jeans down below his butt. As soon as I did, he was able to do all the rest of the potty business himself, a hard-won triumph nearly a year in the making.

  "Make sure to wash your hands," I reminded him. I didn't have to remind him to use soap. That was part of the drill, part of the order. Max's life was all about order and routine. He only had to do something one time before he knew to do it that way forevermore.