over,” a little too loud, like he’d suffered temporary hearing loss.
“Rehearsal?” came out of the speaker, and I shook my head at Shane.
His eyes widened. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t know you were on the phone. I’ll be outside.” He shut the door behind him, leaving me to clean up another toxic spill.
I tried dodging yet again. “Sounds like we’ve got a plan then. Let me know if our friend comes back.”
“Layla, where—”
“I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.”
“Okay. Thanks again.”
It was becoming painfully obvious I was going to have to confess to Ash and then pass the torch to her entirely. She could run the forum easily without me. She just needed more confidence. Surely someone would agree to take over the blog for me. I couldn’t keep it up if for no other reason than I’d just wasted twenty minutes investigating a trivial issue instead of watching a rock band rehearse.
The blog troll would have to stew a little longer. Shane waited for me.
Shane.
That one thought pushed all others out of my head, and I packed up, curious if lunch would be with all of the band or only him, finding myself not caring either way as long as I could enjoy the swoops in my belly whenever he looked my way or touched me. My hands trembled as my imagination took those small gestures to their logical conclusion and I pictured him on his back under me again.
Rock n’ Roll. Literally.
Chapter Sixteen
Shane leaned against the wall with one leg bent, looking so hot in the setting sun, it was a wonder he hadn’t scorched the earth. The orange light made his hair look like he’d caught fire. Did these guys really just wander around here at all hours of the day and nobody accosted them?
Right now, there were probably a couple of fans online arguing about their favorite Theater of the Absurd song lyric, and I’d just lived the dream. It was giving me a serious sense of cognitive dissonance to compare the reality of these guys against years of my own imagination.
When Shane saw me, he pushed off the wall. “Freedom at last.”
I couldn’t help but chastise him a little. “You know the rest of the world has lunch breaks that last about as long as you work.”
He grabbed my hand, twining our fingers, like it was no big deal, like we’d been a couple for longer than, oh God, less than twenty-four hours. Barely more than twelve. My head spun with how quickly things were changing.
“Speaking of food, the guys went on ahead. I told them we’d catch up.”
“Pity,” I joked and squeezed his hand.
“We don’t have to.” He slowed. “I don’t need to spend another minute with Noah.”
“He obviously thinks I’m in the way, anyway.” I stopped altogether and faced him. “He’s so—”
“It isn’t you.” He hooked his arms around my back and pulled me into him so my face was inches from his. “I swear. He’s got something going on. He’s also a total prick. But not usually quite so deserving of a swift kick to the nuts.”
“You sure?”
He pressed his lips against my forehead. “Positive, Star Shine.”
I pushed him away so I could see his face when I asked, “Are you ever going to tell me why you keep calling me that?”
“Maybe.” His coy expression left no doubts he planned to milk the mystery a while longer.
“Fine.” I turned my back on him and started down the sidewalk.
Shane caught up, laughing. “I promise I will, but do you want to go eat with the guys or not?”
I’d barely eaten anything since the croissant at breakfast, and my stomach churned. “Yeah, let’s.”
He ushered me into a local fast food burger joint that gave off a dodgy vibe, but seeing a crew of rock musicians casually hanging out in such a dive made my entire year. I never thought about where they might eat, but if I’d been forced to imagine it, I might have pictured somewhere that had silverware. Or catering.
A couple of teenagers at a booth had their phones out and were taking their own selfies with an impressive photobomb in the background. Micah signed an autograph for a mom wearing a baby in a front-facing sling while Noah sat with one foot up on the Formica bench and his arms draped across the back, a half dozen leather wristbands hanging loose.
They were kings of the greasy burger bar.
I made eye contact with the gawkers, feeling both self-conscious and exceedingly cool