Three times in Chicago. Twice in Columbus. The rest were one-offs in various cities where I happened to be—like when I arranged to go for training in DC the same week they played there. That wasn’t bizarre, was it?
“You really are a music fan,” said Adam.
I was tempted to ask him about his new album, what he’d meant by certain lyrics, how he felt about the negative reviews, whether he’d ever read the fan forum.
Before I could formulate a coherent question, Shane asked, “Who’s your very favorite band, Layla?”
His question snapped me out of my crazy, and I shot him a coy smile. “Do you really want to make me choose between the two best bands?”
Eden chortled, which apparently disturbed the baby. With Joshua fussing, Eden gently hoisted him onto her shoulder, patting him, and took him inside. I began reaching for the empties, intending to gather them and follow her into the kitchen, but Adam laid a hand on my forearm—he actually touched me—and said, “Sit. I’ll get that.”
He wrapped his left arm around five empty bottles and grabbed Eden’s empty glass in his right hand. It amused me that he’d always been this one guy in my mind: sweaty, sexy, singing. Yet, here he was, quiet, almost shy, domestic, and incredibly sweet. He was amazing with fans, so it didn’t surprise me that he’d be genuinely nice, even in private, but I didn’t expect him to be so mellow. So down to earth.
Shane cleared his throat, and I realized I’d been staring at Adam as he disappeared into the house. “Oh, sorry. I guess I am still a little starstruck.”
“Understandable.” He tore tiny pieces off a napkin. “So, I think we should probably be going soon.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s fine.”
“Would you mind walking? It’s such a nice night, and it’s not terribly far.”
I remembered the car ride over. It wasn’t far, but it wasn’t near. A couple of miles at least. It was a nice night, and it would mean more time in Shane’s company. “I’d love to walk.”
Zion and Andrew came around to give me a hug. I hadn’t realized how tall Andrew was until he was towering over me. Imposing, really. I made a mental note to do some digging and try to find his music later. “It was great to meet you, Andrew. What did you say your last name was?”
“I didn’t. But it’s Larraine.”
Andrew Larraine. I’d search for him on YouTube later.
“And it was very nice to meet you, too, Layla . . .”
“Beckett.”
After we said our farewells, Shane led me through the sliding doors, where Adam met us. “Heading out?”
When I picked up my purse and lifted my hand to wave, he pulled me in for a hug. “It was great to meet you. I hope to see you again.”
I breathed in to test out the jasmine theory and smelled baby powder, lighter fluid, and Downy. Beyond that, a faint musky man smell.
Eden didn’t come down to send us off, but I imagined she had her hands full with the baby. I couldn’t expect her to yell down the stairs if she didn’t want to wake a drowsy child.
With that in mind, I walked softly through the living room and waited to get outside before I said another word.
Chapter Eight
Out on the steps, lit only by the sconce by the door, the magical sense of normalcy returned. The soft stillness transported me to the Indiana suburbs. I used to spend nights just like this, riding bikes or rollerskating down the sidewalk in the silence of spring moonlight, loving how the only sound in the world was the clack-clack-clack of my wheels over the cracks. There was a familiar comfort in the dark.
Shane skipped down the steps, then slowed until I caught up. We made our way down the quiet street side by side. Sort of.
He lurched away from me and back, like he had too much energy for a slow walk and needed to avoid the straight line from A to B. It put me in mind of a bouncy kid running in circles while a parent plodded forward. I had no intention of rushing. I was too curious about this guy I’d never been curious enough about before.
“That was lovely,” I said, by way of small talk.
“Mmm-hmm. They’re great people.”
As we passed by other houses on the row, my mind kept returning to the larger-than-life rock star whose home I’d been invited into as if I were simply one of his