Risky Rockstar: A Hero Club Novel, стр. 53
“Here, this should start you off.” She hands it to me.
I turn the book over in my palm. There’s a shirtless guy on the cover with his jeans unbuttoned and his white briefs sticking out.
Fuck me!
I shove the book under Hayley’s bag and thrust my hands into my pockets. “I’ll give this one a pass.”
I’m rewarded by Hayley’s throaty laugh as she heads down the hall to her niece’s room.
When she’s out of sight, I dig out the book and look around to see if anyone’s watching. Thankfully it’s still early and the nurses are busy with the shift change.
I open to chapter one: “Orgasmic Bliss.” Smiling I shake my head. I’m so fucking far gone. I guess I’ll do anything for love.
The realization that I love Hayley wraps around me like a warm blanket and settles deep in my bones. I shouldn’t be surprised. I think I’ve loved her since the first moment we worked together, since she gave me my love of music back.
I lace my fingers behind my head and smile. I can’t fucking wait to tell Hayley I love her, but I will.
She isn’t ready yet.
I can’t risk scaring her off.
But until then, I’ll take what I can get.
Chapter 25
Hayley
Not even time in the photo booth posing in silly hats and fake mustaches with Kade has helped to settle my nerves. Rows and rows of tables draped with white tablecloths and covered with books and swag only seem to escalate my anxiety. I fidget with my books, moving them from arm to arm as I straighten my top for the hundredth time. This is ridiculous. I’ve performed in front of thousands of people, and Lesley Peppers is the most chill person on the planet, but I’m so nervous to meet her that I can barely swallow.
I carefully place the books in my cart before I warp them with my sweat and wipe my hands down my leggings. Looking around the room, I realize that I’m not the only one here who’s nervous. Everyone is so busy mentally preparing themselves to meet their favorite authors that no one seems to be paying me or Kade any attention, and it’s refreshing being able to just be me, instead of Hayley the rock star. If anyone has noticed us, they are too interested in getting their books signed to ask for an autograph, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like just another girl in the crowd.
I wish I wasn’t this nervous so I could appreciate it though.
Kade leans in, his breath warm against my ear, and for a millisecond I’m distracted by his scent. A scent I’ve come to recognize as purely his. Clean. Masculine. Sin. At least I hope things between us are going to be sinful soon. Since our kiss at the hospital, Kade and I haven’t had a moment alone. I stayed in Providence for two weeks to catch up on some much-needed family time. When Amy’s biopsy came back negative and we were told she had a rare virus and not leukemia, the relief was such that I couldn’t bear to be away from her. Then Bridget gave birth to her baby girls, Eleanor and Elizabeth, and I soaked up as much time with her and them as I could before I headed back to LA to tweak the album with LP-45. It’s been another two weeks since then, and I’m hoping that during the tour we’ll have some time alone. Really, really hoping for that. Although how we will manage when we’re all sharing a tour bus remains to be seen.
“You realize the irony of this situation, right?” The line moves up, and my momentary distraction dissipates, leaving tiny firecrackers of nerves in my belly.
“I know I’m absurd, but it’s Lesley Peppers.”
He nods his head solemnly, and I know he’s trying not to laugh at me. “She’s just a person like you and me.”
I groan. I know this and I feel utterly ridiculous, but it doesn’t change anything. I move out of the line a smidgen so I can see her. She’s laughing at something a reader said—the tips of her hair dyed purple, her smile wide and easy—but instead of easing my nerves, it only serves to amp them up.
“I’m going to say something stupid.”
“I seriously doubt that. But isn’t Lesley Peppers the queen of writing characters who say stupid stuff all the time?”
I’m about to ask him how he knows what Lesley writes when he asks, “What was your favorite scene in Conspicuous, and I’m not talking about the smut?” That sinful smirk plays at the corner of his lips.
I tilt my head and deadpan, “I’m really only in it for the smut.”
He raises his eyebrow but remains quiet.
I chew on my lip. Damn, that’s a hard question. There are so many fun parts, it’s hard to choose. One scene in particular comes to mind, but do I really want to get into the limo sex with Kade in a room full of women who will know exactly what I’m talking about? Deciding I’ve got nothing to lose, I go for it. “There’s a scene where Andie, the female main character, stows away in a limo and gets a little more than she bargained for.”
Kade nods his head. “You sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the handcuff scene in said limo? I mean, that was pretty hot.”
I vigorously shake my head. “Nope. No. Everything till that part was fine. When the handcuffs came out, I skimmed.” I look around, hoping no one heard me. Skimming is a cardinal sin in the book world. I’m a massive fan, but I just can’t read that stuff. I get sweaty and claustrophobic. One time at a signing, a fan grabbed me by both wrists and wouldn’t let me go. It took three security guards to get him off me. Since then, just the idea of being trapped and not being able to get away