Play (Stage Dive 2) - Page 5

“Anne.”

“Anne, what?

“Anne Rollins.”

A brilliant grin lit his face. “Anne Rollins. See, that wasn’t so tough.”

I gritted my teeth and tried to smile. Most likely I resembled a lunatic. One that had spent way too much time imagining him naked. Good god, the shame.

Gently, he tapped his bottle of beer against mine. “Cheers, Anne. Nice to meet you.”

I took another sip, hoping it would calm the shaking. The booze wasn’t hitting me hard enough fast enough to deal with this. Maybe I should move on to something stronger. One’s first intimate conversation with a rock star should probably be conducted over hard liquor. Ev was definitely on to something with her tequila-fueled antics in Vegas. And look how well it had worked out for her.

“What brings you here tonight, Anne?”

“I came with Nate and Lauren. They brought me. They’re my neighbors. They live next door.”

He nodded. “You’re friends with Ev?”

“Yeah, I, well … I’ve always been friendly with her. I wouldn’t want to presume … I mean, I don’t know that I’d say we were close friends, exactly, but–”

“Yes or no, Anne?”

“Yes,” I answered, then snapped my mouth shut against another outbreak of verbal diarrhea.

“Yeah, Ev’s good people. Davie was lucky to find her.” He stared off at the city lights in silence. The amusement fell from his face and a frown creased his brow. He seemed sad, a little lost, maybe. For certain, his much-vaunted party-rocker personality was nowhere in evidence. I should know better. People had painted Ev to be the next Yoko Ono, riding on David’s coattails, sucking him dry of fame and fortune. I didn’t have to be her BFF to know it couldn’t be further from the truth. Chances were, whoever Mal was had little to do with the nonsense flowing freely on the Internet.

But more important, how badly had I embarrassed myself?

“I didn’t really get a crazy look in my eyes, did I?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“Yeah, you did.”

Crap.

“So you’re a friend of Ev’s? I mean, you’re not in the music business or anything?” he asked, focusing on me once more. His face had cleared, his mood shifting. I couldn’t keep up. With the flats of his palms he beat out a swift rhythm on the balcony railing.

“No. I work in a bookshop a few blocks from here.”

“Okay.” He gazed down at me, apparently pleased with my answer. “So what was that phone call about?”

“Nothing.”

“No?” He stepped closer. “What happened to your nose?”

Immediately my hand flew up to block his view of my face. It was only a small bump, but still. “My sister broke it when we were little.”

“Don’t cover it. I think it’s cute.”

“Great.” I lowered my arm. He’d already seen the flaw, so what was the use?

“Why’d she break it?”

“She got mad one day and threw a toy truck at me.”

“Not how. Why?”

I smothered a sigh. “She wanted a kitten and I’m allergic to cats.”

“You couldn’t get a puppy instead?”

“I wanted to but Mom said no. My sister still blamed me.”

He scowled. “So you never had any pets growing up?”

I shook my head.

“That’s f**king terrible. Every kid should get to have a pet.” He appeared sincerely outraged on my behalf.

“Yeah, well, time’s past and I’m kind of over it now.” I frowned and swallowed some more beer. Everything told me I was going to need it. This conversation was just plain weird.

He stood, watching me with his faint smile. Just that easily I was riveted once again. My lips curled into some sort of vaguely hopeful idiotic half grin of their own accord.

Mal.

Mal Ericson.

Damn, he was beautiful. My long-dormant hormones broke into a dance of joy. Something was definitely going on in my pants. Something that hadn’t happened in a very long time.

“There go the crazy eyes again,” he whispered.

“Shit.” I shut my eyes tight. Lizzy walking in on me and my boyfriend seven years ago had been pretty damn embarrassing, especially given that she then ran and told mom. Not that mom had been coherent enough to care. This, however, topped it.

“Your cheeks have gone all rosy. Are you thinking rude thoughts about me, Anne?”

“No.”

“Liar,” he taunted in a soft voice. “You’re totally thinking of me with no pants on.”

I totally was.

“That’s just gross, dude. A massive invasion of my privacy.” He leaned in closer, his breath warming my ear. “Whatever you’re imagining, it’s bigger.”

“I’m not imagining anything.”

“I’m serious. It’s basically a monster. I cannot control it.”

“Malcolm–”

“You’re pretty much going to need a whip and chair to tame it, Anne.”

“Stop it.”

“That okay with you?”

I covered my hot face with my hands. Not giggling. Not even a little, because grown women didn’t do that shit. What was I, sixteen?

Inside the condo, Nate started shouting. The sound was only slightly muted by the sliding glass doors. My eyelids flew open as he hurled abuse at the TV, arms waving madly. Lauren laughed and my brain came back on line, sending all sorts of emergency signals throughout my body. Like I didn’t already realize I needed to get the hell out of there before I humiliated myself further. Good one, frontal lobe. At least I could think if I didn’t look at Mal directly.

This was a brilliant and timely discovery.

And it worked right up until he leaned over, getting in my face, making my lungs feel like they were about to explode.

“You have a little gap between your two front teeth,” he informed me, eyes narrowed in perusal. “You know that?”

“Yes.”

He studied me like I was an alien species, a curiosity that had been dumped on his doorstep. His gaze slid down my body. It wasn’t as if he could possibly see anything what with me wearing a coat, jeans, and boots. But that knowledge didn’t help at all. His lazy, appreciative grin made my knees knock. It took about forever for his gaze to return to my face.

Damn, he was good. I’d been professionally sullied without a single item of clothing removed.

“Your eyes are a pleasing shade of… Is that blue?” he asked. “It’s hard to tell in this light.”

Tags: Kylie Scott Stage Dive Book Series
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