Kind of Famous (Flirting with Fame Book 3)

by Mary Ann Marlowe

  I looked around, wondering why they were all hanging out here. “What is this?”

  “Um, it’s the afterparty line?” By her tone, I assumed that was supposed to be obvious. “Are you VIP?”

  I flashed her my badge, and she gave me a patronizing smile. “Must be your first time.”

  A second girl said, “It didn’t used to be like this,” in a world-weary tone. “They used to treat us better.”

  She was a brunette version of her friend, clean and neat, with caramel highlights threaded through a pair of braids. In comparison, I probably looked like a war refugee.

  I texted Shane: I’m in the afterparty line. I guess I’ll see you when they let us in.

  I turned my attention back to the ladies. “You go to a lot of these?”

  The blonde girl said, “I always get into the afterparties. I’ve been to so many, they all know me by now. They’ll say, ‘You again?’ ”

  Brunette girl said, “I’ve become accustomed to getting a hug from Micah after the show. He’s a huge hugger.”

  Blonde girl said, “If he comes out.”

  They nodded.

  Blonde girl scanned me and said, “Just be sure to leave Noah for me.”

  They both laughed.

  “Hey, isn’t that Shane?” someone asked. Everyone turned toward the direction of the tent.

  The blonde said, “That’s totally Shane. I wonder why he’s out here.”

  He kept heading toward us. “Layla!” He waved his hand in a come-on gesture.

  “Who’s Layla?” asked the brunette.

  “That’s me. I’ll see you inside!” I savored their surprise as I stepped over the rope and met Shane halfway.

  The afterparty was the lamest thing I’d ever seen. Granted, I wouldn’t have felt that way if I hadn’t hung out with these guys for longer than five minutes, but I couldn’t unring that bell, and this scene just seemed pathetic to me now.

  The huge tent was spacious and air-conditioned with an actual bar and some music pumping in the background. It reminded me a lot of a wedding reception, except that instead of couples dancing in pairs, women prowled in groups around two major destinations: Micah and Noah. Rick had found a folding chair and sat in a corner unnoticed, scrolling through his phone and occasionally pulling a drag off a cigarette. Shane and I parked ourselves near the bar and shared running commentary.

  “Watch these two,” he said, directing my attention to the girls I’d met before. “This should be good.”

  When a path cleared, they approached Noah and engaged him in conversation. Unlike Micah, who could maintain a sunny disposition in the face of a barrage of fans, Noah didn’t even pretend he was tolerating any of this. His lip curled a little as the girls talked him into a picture. One of them handed a phone to someone, and each girl took a position on either side of Noah. At the count of three, as the impromptu photographer shot the picture, both girls turned their heads and kissed Noah on either cheek.

  Shane chortled. “It’s always something.”

  “They didn’t even ask him first?” I was horrified. “What the hell?”

  Shane just shrugged. “Whatcha gonna do? It’s part of the job description.”

  “Assault?”

  “Just remember this, Layla. If you ever see compromising pictures of me at an afterparty, question your eyes. Not that I’ve ever been the subject of a kiss attack.”

  I was shaking my head. “Gah. It’s so inappropriate.”

  “At least they didn’t grab for his crotch.”

  “Has that happened?!” I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  The blonde girl had lingered after the picture, and she was leaning into Noah now. She put a hand on his shoulder, but he lurched back.

  “Shit. Here we go.” Shane stiffened.

  “What?”

  “The come on.” He pulled out his phone and checked the screen. “I think we’ve been here long enough. I’m gonna go grab your carry-on out of the bus. We can get an Uber to the hotel. Wait here.”

  I continued watching Noah who said something to the girl before striding directly toward the bar. When he saw me, he veered and made a beeline for me. He put an arm around my shoulder.

  I drew away from him and backed up against the tent wall. “What the hell, Noah?”

  He stepped closer and put one hand on a pole beside my head. “Layla, I’m sorry I was being a total dick to you before.”

  “You’re kind of being a dick now. What are you doing?”

  “Look. I just need your help for a minute.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He leaned close, whispering in my ear. “Did you see that girl earlier?”

  I nodded.

  “She’s someone I got involved with once, and she will not leave me alone.”

  “So, why don’t you just leave?”

  “She’ll follow us to the hotel.”

  “And? How’s this my problem?”

  “If she thinks I’m leaving with you, she’ll find someone else to harass.”

  “There are perhaps a dozen other girls here who would happily leave with you. Why me?”

  He looked into my eyes. His were bloodshot. “I’m completely exhausted. I haven’t slept well in weeks, and I just want to get out of here without having to deal with any drama.”

  “Noah, what’s Shane going to think if I walk out of here like that with you?”

  Noah ran a finger through my hair. “Maybe I was wrong about you.”

  I was a microsecond away from slapping him. “Noah,” I growled.

  “I guess you think I’m a jackass. For what it’s worth, the other day, I was aiming my anger at Shane and Micah because they’re my brothers, and they have to put up with me. I didn’t mean to get my assery all over you. Apologies?”

  “I think Shane could use the apology more than me.”

  He nodded once. Whether he agreed or was just taking the unsolicited advice with a grain of salt, I had no idea.

  “Will you just come with me? We’ll find Shane and then we can all go to the hotel together. That’s all. Okay?”

  “Fine. But don’t ever touch me again.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  We caught up to Shane and grabbed an Uber to the hotel. Noah hooked a left for the bar as Shane and I waited side by side for the elevator.

  Shane whispered, “I’ve got some very definite ideas about how to spend the rest of the night.”

  Going up to a hotel room with a rock musician felt like the ultimate cliché. I’d spent a decade deleting stories of hookups with these guys only to find myself on the cusp of becoming a groupie.

  When the elevator doors opened, I grabbed both his hands and pulled him after me. Without even waiting for the door to close, he tangled his fingers in my hair and kissed me hard.

  He drew back, one hand against the wall behind me, and it reminded me of the way Noah had pinned me at the afterparty. Until that moment, I hadn’t even thought about how I’d reacted to Noah Kennedy’s face inches from my own. He was a heartthrob I’d once crushed on, but the reality of Noah did nothing for me. He’d shown me a level of self-centered disrespect I couldn’t unsee. My response to him had been revulsion rather than attraction.

  My response to Shane, on the other hand, was desperate need. I tugged on his T-shirt to better slide my hand up his muscled torso. “I’m dying to get you out of these clothes.”

  I fell back and hoped he’d take it for an invitation to possess me. He pushed me against the elevator wall, hands roaming down my body, reaching under my skirt, thumbs hooking the hips of my panties.

  “May I?”

  “Yes.”

  He slid my panties halfway down my thighs, then as he kissed me, his finger touched me and stroked, increasing the pressure until my voice escaped with
an Ah, making my body feel like a bottle of champagne, bubbly, effervescent, tingly. He knew how to shake me up until I exploded.

  He whispered, “I want every inch of you.”

  The elevator dinged, and he lifted me up without the slightest effort, hands under my thighs, my legs and arms wrapped around him koala-style.

  He strode down the hallway like it was on fire, plucking the key card from his pocket and kicking open the door with urgency.

  I lay my hands on either side of his face. Before I could utter a word, he crushed his mouth against mine and carried me to the bed, then dropped to the floor, tore my panties straight off, pushed up my skirt, and knocked my knees apart with his chin. He paused and looked up at me for approval.

  “Shane.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

  As his tongue touched me, we both mmmed at the same time, his last words echoing in my mind. He’d been thinking about this all day.

  Here was a man who knew what he liked.

  And he took the time to learn what I liked. Soft, then hard, licking, then sucking, his mouth found my secrets. He slid a finger in and out, rubbing his thumb in places I’d never dreamed could feel such intense pleasure.

  “There,” I encouraged when he hit a particularly amazing combination. “Yes.” He made me say yes a lot.

  My back arched as I climaxed, but he didn’t slow down, and I was so thankful, because my orgasm didn’t end in a bang or a whimper. Rather, it grew more powerful, more delicious until it spread down my legs and around my back, like a wave of opium.

  I jerked and stilled with a wow.

  He broke away, laying one last kiss on the blast zone. “You make the most incredible face.” He climbed up next to me, propping himself up on his elbow. “It’s like you’re filled with helium. Everything just goes—” He made a face of joy, smile widening, eyes unfocused, everything relaxing into bliss.

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “Why? What face do I make?”

  “Shall we find out?” I trailed a finger down his torso.

  He clamped his hand over mine and tugged me closer so I lay halfway across his chest, face to face. He brushed my hair out of my eyes and looked into my eyes. “I’d rather look at you.”

  “Like what you see?”

  “So much.”

  He’d proven that through his actions, but it still felt nice to hear it. “It’s only fair you count the ways.”

  “Every little detail is a world unto itself. I get a boner just looking at your lips.” He winced. “Wow, that wasn’t poetic.”

  “You’re forgiven. Continue.”

  “Your body is like you were custom made for me. When I’m with you, I just want to look at you, touch you. I want to smell you and taste you. And I want to hear you. God, I love to listen to you talk. I love to hear you say my name.”

  “Shane.”

  “I’ve never met anyone like you.” He smiled. “I can’t believe you picked me.”

  “Well, Noah seems to hate me, and Micah’s practically married,” I joked.

  “Yeah.” He didn’t laugh, obviously. It was a stupid thing for me to say.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  He lifted me off him and sat up. “Are you hungry?” Without acknowledging my lame apology, he picked up the room service menu and started to flip through it.

  I was actually starving, but I took the menu from him and set it on the table.

  “Shane.”

  “I’m sorry. I keep doing that.”

  He lay back down beside me, but his enthusiasm had gone from ready-and-willing to reluctant suitor in the span of a thoughtless comment.

  I threaded my fingers through his. “We have to talk about this.”

  He let out a long breath. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

  “Too late. You just shut down completely. It’s already a big deal. Do you really think I’m secretly pining for Noah?”

  “Of course not. I told you, it’s my issue. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “It has everything to do with me.”

  “No, it’s my personal history. You saw those girls tonight, right? That scene has played out every night for the past several years.”

  “That’s only proof I should be the jealous one. You’re surrounded every night by women who throw themselves at you.”

  “At Noah.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Would you be happier if they were throwing themselves at you? Should I worry you’ll sleep with the first groupie who notices how hot you are?”

  “Of course not.” He furrowed his brow. “Have I given you any reason to think I’d do that?”

  “Just making a point.” I squeezed his hand. “We’re going to have to learn to trust each other. Do you trust me?”

  His thumb caressed my wrist. “You’ve never given me any reason not to.”

  “Except when I gawk at your friends.”

  “Only because when you do that, it reminds me that I’m nothing special.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “But this is what I mean when I say it’s my problem. My reaction is what’s wrong.”

  “Yeah, but it’s in reaction to me.”

  “Can you help it when you turn into a statue around Adam?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly. And right now, I can’t help how it feels when you stare longingly at Micah. How am I supposed to just get over a fear that lives in my bones? I know that you don’t even like Noah, and yet this demon lurks, waiting for proof to the contrary. It doesn’t care about facts or reality. It keeps whispering that you’re going to figure out I’m not good enough for you and leave. Maybe not for Noah or Micah, but someone better will come along, and you’ll realize I have nothing to offer you.”

  Ugh. All those red flags I’d been ignoring crystallized into my very worst nightmare. And yet, I wanted to run toward this particular danger. I wanted to douse the fire, or at least give Shane the chance to extinguish it himself. In the past, I would have already planned my escape.

  Maybe I was foolish, but I geared up and entered the burning building.

  “Shane, look at me.” He turned his head. I gazed into his eyes, hoping our connection would survive this necessary dose of reality. “You never have to worry that I’m going to dump you for Noah or Micah. Or anyone, really.” He started to answer. I laid a finger over his lips. “But you have to realize that what will come between us is this mistrust and jealousy.”

  His forehead creased, and he nodded slightly. I went on.

  “I’ve had incredible role models who showed me how a good relationship works. My dad and brother each fell in love with their longtime best friends. They modeled respect and autonomy for me, so, mentally, I know that men can be rational, but I’ve run into my fair share of possessive guys who didn’t know where they ended and I began. It was a total shock to me when every relationship turned into a shit show.”

  I paused to give Shane a second to catch up. “I’m listening.”

  “I understand you can’t control how you feel, but I don’t want to have to tiptoe around your fragile ego and worry that any stupid joke is going to trigger a freeze out. I need you to give me room to breathe.”

  “You don’t have to tiptoe around me. You’ve done nothing wrong. This is something for me to work out, and I will.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “I promise.”

  I knew it wasn’t something he could promise. “It means a lot that you’re trying.”

  “Maybe we could give each other time to get used to all of this? Like you said, things are changing so fast.”

  “Sure.” It was a reasonable request. We both needed time to catch up to our new reality. I only hoped he wasn’t counting on dealing with his jealousy by waiting for me to stop fangirling. Because I
wasn’t sure I ever would.

  He nudged me so he could wrap an arm around my shoulder and pull me into him. “I’m sorry I spoiled the evening.”

  I kissed his neck. “Do you really want to keep talking when we only have tonight?”

  His chest rumbled with soft laughter. “I really am a moron to have wasted our time dwelling on this.”

  “No. It’s good we talked. But now I don’t want to anymore.” I dragged my fingers around his back and slipped his shirt off. “Mmm. This is the body I’ve been longing to kiss.”

  His shoulders relaxed, and the mood began to change for the better. I spent time getting to know his ab muscles which, for the record, were defined and fabulous. I unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, and he let me push his pants down. His boxers followed. And then he was in the flesh.

  “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  A sigh escaped him, and he laid me back down on the bed, whatever pity party apparently forgotten. He took control and began undressing me, slowly, as he kissed my skin wherever it became bare.

  “Condom?” he asked.

  “Do you need one? Has anything changed?”

  “Just checking. Nothing’s changed.”

  He wrapped his hands around my waist and dragged me to the edge of the bed. When he entered me, we both muttered oaths. His was more profanity, mine more prayer.

  When he was in to the hilt, he dropped forward and kissed me. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Same.”

  “I didn’t even know you existed, and now I can’t live without you. How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s like I was waiting for you.” As he kissed me again, he drew back and slid in again, and color exploded behind my eyelids like fireworks.

  “Don’t stop, Shane. That feels so good.”

  “I love the way you feel. I love your body. I love being with you.”

  His words elicited emotion that mixed with the physical sensations to form a heady sense that I could only call love, though I had nothing to compare it with. I loved Shane’s body. I loved being with him. Did I love him?

  Did he love me?