The Rock Star’s Fake Fiancee - Kenzie Reed Page 0,21

I’m laughing, not panicking.

I let Sebastian lead me towards the concert hall. The crowd’s shouts rise to a level that could shatter glass.

“Sebastian! Look at me, Sebastian, look!” Several girls pull up their shirts and flash their ta-tas as we walk past.

“Seriously?” I mutter. I’m not jealous at all, I’m just offended by the display of public nudity. And their boobs put mine to shame. In fact I would like to borrow some boobage from them. They shouldn’t have a problem with it—they’ve got plenty to spare.

Sebastian pauses, so I stop too. “Hey, ladies!” Sebastian yells. “That’s flattering, but please, put your shirts back on. This is my fiancée, and that’s not respectful to her.” It makes me feel swoony, then angry because I hate how much I want those words to be true. Most of me is over Sebastian, but there’s a part of me that never will be. And it’s not just the territory south of my navel.

He puts his arm around my shoulders, and we’re greeted by loud groans of disappointment. Reporters standing in the front of the barricade aim their cameras at us, clicking away. Monica and Parker crowd around me, helping to keep me half-hidden.

And now for the rest of my plan.

I really like his bandmates, and I know I’m about to make them very angry at me, but it can’t be helped. I’m doing this for my mama and my hometown.

And yeah, I also want to stick it to Sebastian. The way I see it, he owes me, and I’m just giving him the opportunity to pay me back. So I’m doing him a favor, really.

“You’re welcome,” I mutter.

“What?”

I shrug Sebastian’s arm off and step away from the band. Then I turn to the reporters and summon up my high school theater training to hide my Southern accent.

“Hey everyone!” I call out. “So nice to meet you all! Aren’t these guys just the greatest?”

The photographers go crazy, jostling and elbowing each other.

“Take off your glasses!”

“What’s your name?”

“Where are you from?”

“How did you meet?”

And, alarmingly, “Are you worried about the curse?”

“Yeah, what about the curse? Is the band haunted?” Jeez, they’re still on that.

“Has he ever trashed your bedroom?” one of them yells. That, too. They just can’t let it go. I feel a sharp burn of anger at their taunting. The band gets this thrown in their face all the time, and it’s unfair. From what I’ve heard, they’ve turned everything around and haven’t caused any trouble since the band regrouped, but the reporters won’t let them forget their past.

Sebastian steps in front of me, getting between me and the press. He leans in and acts as if he’s kissing my cheek. His lips are so close I can feel his warm breath on my cheek.

“You’re going off script,” he whispers to me.

Okay. I may feel bad for how the press is treating him, but I am on a mission here, and nothing will dissuade me.

I tip my head back and fake a loving smile. “I promised not to make you look bad. And I’m not.”

His eyes blaze a warning at me. “Callie, if you embarrass us, I swear, I will pull this wig off your head and tell everyone your name, hometown, and favorite sexual position. Should I say it’s doggy style or 69?”

My fake smile stretches wider. “I hate 69, it’s too distracting. I prefer to take turns. Go with doggy style.”

He hesitates. An odd look crosses his face. Almost like jealousy. “Who have you 69ed?”

I arch an eyebrow. “I doubt you know them.”

“Whatever,” he says sourly. “Don’t say anything else to the press. Please.”

He grabs me by the arm and tries to pull me towards the building. I stumble and “accidentally” stab him in the foot with my spike heel.

He winces in pain and lets go of my arm. I take the opportunity to rush forward and address the crowd.

“I just want to make sure everyone knows about my sweetheart playing at the Swampy Bottom Tricentennial in Swampy Bottom, North Carolina in August! Exact date to be announced soon! And a percentage of the profits from merchandise sales will go to his favorite charity!” My occasional Google-stalking has revealed that Sebastian donates to a lot of charities. His favorite one is for foster kids who have aged out of the system.

“What? Did we talk about this?” Parker looks at Sebastian in confusion. “Did I miss something?”

Sebastian wraps his arm around me and swings me around, hustling me towards the door. “What