Kind of Famous (Flirting with Fame Book 3)

by Mary Ann Marlowe

  I’m a star man

  waiting in the sky.

  Another cheer erupted at the nod to David Bowie.

  Show me a sign

  A flicker of ginger-haired star shine

  Beguiling beacon

  I think she’ll blow my mind

  I was chewing on my knuckles to keep from squealing. With the Bowie throwbacks and the references to my hair and his nickname for me, not to mention the incredible sexiness of him playing that guitar, I was ready to take him back. If that’s where this was headed. I hoped it was where this was headed. Who could resist a love song serenade? Then he started the second verse.

  Her star shoots across the heavens

  A wondrous sight

  Touch the sky

  She falls to earth

  And I catch her

  ‘Mine,’ I say, holding tight

  On this last line, he looked menacingly from right to left across the audience, his impact clear: He knew he’d been wrong. The whole band was jamming out. Noah started playing in earnest, a whole crazy show-off guitar solo. Then all at once, every instrument but Shane’s guitar went silent, and the guys all froze. The lights dropped except the single white beam on Shane.

  I don’t know if he’d ever played for so long, and he’d started making some mistakes, but he kept going. He strummed that original set of chords and leaned in.

  Her spirit burns too hot to hold

  Though souls align

  I set her free

  And gaze above

  For her star shine

  To ease my worried mind

  The last line sucker-punched me, in a good way. If I hadn’t known the song was for me, that last line, stolen from Eric Clapton’s “Layla” sealed the deal. He sang the chorus once more, now with all the guys joining in. And then as he wrapped it up, he said one time. “Forgive me, Layla. I was wrong.”

  The lights dropped, and after a beat, the crowd went insane. The video shut off right after, and every head swiveled toward me.

  “Well?” asked Jo. “What do you think of that?”

  Eden reached down to the lower shelf of an end table and came up with a box of Kleenex. She nudged Ash with it, and Ash held it out to me. I plucked out a few and pressed them to my cheeks. It took me a minute to find my voice.

  “That’s been up since Tuesday?” Tears fell unchecked. “Why didn’t you say anything, Ash?”

  She put her hands up in defense. “I’ve been busy with the baby. I had no idea.”

  I looked from Jo to Eden. “We assumed you’d seen it. Don’t you run a fan site? We figured you’re all over concert videos. Didn’t your posters send you links?”

  My eyes closed. “They did.” They’d probably posted it to the forum before I took it down. Shane hadn’t shot me a link. He’d waited, and I’d said nothing. For nearly a whole week.

  The front door opened, and a voice called, “Eden? You here?”

  In walked Micah and Noah. I tilted my head, trying to see between them, watching for Shane, but the door closed. Micah came in and hugged Eden, then slid in next to Jo. “We figured you guys would have food.”

  Noah waved at everyone and wandered straight out back to the grill where Adam now reigned supreme. I caught Ash’s head bobbing back and forth, trying to watch both the new guys at once.

  “Micah, this is my friend Ash.”

  He leaned forward with his hand outstretched. “Hi! Any friend of Layla’s.”

  I butted in. “Micah?”

  “Layla?”

  “Where’s Shane?”

  “Ah.” He licked his lips. “He’s gone home.”

  Jo ran her fingers through his thick blond hair. “She never saw the video. We just played it for her.”

  His eyes widened. “Are you shitting me?”

  Without realizing I’d stood, I found myself on the other side of the sofa grabbing my purse strap. Then I remembered Ash.

  “Ash, I’m gonna—”

  “Go! Go! I think I’ll be okay.” She poked her head twice in Noah’s direction, and I had to laugh. Poor Noah.

  “Micah, is your driver here? Can I borrow your car?”

  “It’s a service. One can’t be too far away. Give me a minute.”

  I weighed out how long it would take to walk and agreed to wait. Everything was a blur until I stood outside Shane’s front door. When had I punched in the security code and climbed the stairs?

  I put the key in the lock and pushed open the door. His living room and kitchen were empty. No sign that he’d even come home, yet. I quietly climbed the stairs and emerged in a deserted bedroom. His rectangular black duffel bag sat at the foot of the bed.

  The bathroom door was ajar, and the light was out, leaving one place he could possibly be. I squared my shoulders facing his music room/office. I’d never gone in there before. I tapped on the door, and it flew open.

  Shane.

  A myriad of expressions crossed his face. Wide-eyed surprise melted into relief that blossomed into that gorgeous smile I’d missed like the sun in winter. Tears filled my eyes, and I took a tentative step forward, hoping that everything I’d interpreted from his song, from his message meant what I wanted it to. I swallowed, searching his eyes for the forgiveness he’d promised me through ten thousand videos.

  Without words, he swept me into his arms, mouth on my forehead, fingers in my hair, lips on my lips. “You’re here.”

  “I’m here.”

  “When you didn’t respond, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  “I never saw your song, Shane. Your brilliant, heart-wrenching, loins-on-fire, beautiful love song.”

  His eyebrow arched. “Loins on fire?”

  I shoved his chest, then grabbed the fabric on his shirt and pulled him back. “I deleted my website.”

  “What?” It came out as a laugh. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t need it. My friend Ash reminded me there’s nothing wrong with fandom, but for me, that site had become an unhealthy substitute for real relationships.”

  “Your friend is very wise.”

  “It wasn’t worth losing you over.”

  He held up a hand. “No, you weren’t in the wrong there. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

  “You shouldn’t have.” I laughed. “But still. I’m sorry. I understand how finding that site would play into every one of your worst fears. You had valid concerns. I’m sorry I walked away instead of trying to work it out.”

  “It’s true. Finding that site hit every single button, but I reacted poorly. I can’t believe I was such an idiot. Micah told me every day I was an idiot, and one day, I woke up and realized he was right. I did the one thing that you’d told me would wreck our relationship. I wanted you so much I chased you away. How dumb is that?”

  My stomach flipped. “Do you still want me?”

  “Is it possible to want you even more?” His strong hands grasped my waist, and he hoisted me up. My legs wound around him.

  I needed to touch him and slid my fingers behind his neck, tracing the skin under his collar, but I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to freak out again every time I turned into a gawking fan girl. I needed to know we weren’t going to have this fight until the end of time.

  “And if I want to sit in on Whiplash’s rehearsal next week?”

  “Whatever you want, Layla. That will always be your choice.”

  I hugged him. “Thank you.”

  “So you forgive me?”

  “You are forgiven, Shane. Just—”

  “Just what?”

  “Give me a little room to breathe.”

  “I know. That was the point of my song. I—”

  “No. I mean, right now. You’re squeezing me too tight.”

  His chest rumbled with laughter, an
d he carried me to the bed and laid me down. “I promise I’ll treat you like a butterfly. I’m so fucking glad you came back.”

  He laid down beside me, and we rolled on our sides, fingers gently touching any exposed skin. I said, “I don’t know how I was so lucky to find you.”

  “You didn’t find me. You plunged into my life like a comet.”

  I smiled. “Leftover song lyrics?”

  “So busted.” He rested a palm on my cheek, gazing into my eyes. “I’m the one who’s fallen. I’ve fallen so hard for you. I’ve been obsessed with you. I’m head over heels in love with you.”

  My gut reaction—to balk at the possibility of his love—met a stone wall of resistance, and I remembered what Eden had told me about time not mattering. “I’m pretty sure I love you, too, Shane.”

  And then we stopped talking. I needed more than words. I needed to possess him if only for a moment in time. And I needed to be possessed.

  Epilogue

  A cool breeze stirred against my exposed shoulder, waking me. I felt around on the floor for my T-shirt and threw it on, then stumbled over to shut the front window. The building across the street blushed pink and orange with reflected sunrise. The summer nights had been warm, and we’d sat out on the fire escape every night since Shane had gotten home from his west coast tour.

  The light crept across the wooden floorboards, illuminating first his fingers and arm that hung over the side of the bed. Those arms had held me at our ballroom dance lessons. They’d hugged me when I’d signed up for computer classes. They’d wrapped around me in that very bed as we made love or as I slept.

  I tiptoed over and touched the skin the morning sun revealed. His face, beautiful and sweet. His shoulders, broad and strong. His back, smooth and inviting. I slid the covers down and down, and he woke, turning toward me, exposing another impressive part of himself to the day.

  “Morning,” he said, snatching my hand and pulling me to him. “You’re up early.”

  My hand found him and brought him fully erect. “So are you.”

  “I was dreaming about you.”

  That made me smile. I straddled him, rubbing our sexes together just to watch his face melt into serene happiness. “What did you dream?”

  “I planned an elaborate scheme with secret rooms and a hot air balloon, I think.” He pushed his hands up my torso, and my shirt bunched up. I lifted my arms and let him take it off.

  “What kind of scheme was this?”

  He groaned in response, but in his defense, I was soaking wet now and grinding against him. He was so massive, I loved to use him like a sex toy, and he’d let me. I leaned down to suck on his lips while I stroked myself with his anticipation.

  He whispered, “It was a proposal.”

  My head jerked up. He lifted my hips easily and let his erection defy gravity. I wanted him in me as desperately as he wanted it. The words hung there. “A proposal.”

  “Yeah. I was asking you to marry me.”

  “In your dream.”

  “Right.”

  “And what did I say?”

  The tip of his penis breached my entry. I wanted to slide down. I wanted him to fill me up, but I waited.

  “You said ‘yes.’ ” His blue eyes dilated, and he tilted his hips up, gaining some ground.

  “So, we’re dream engaged?”

  “I’d marry you right now. You can’t hold out forever.”

  I didn’t know if he meant against engagement or against his cock now definitely in the zone. He was right on both counts. Despite my insistence that time didn’t matter, I’d discovered it did, on the four-week anniversary of the night we’d first hooked up, when Shane surprised me by proposing. He’d gone the traditional route: Dinner, nice suit, on his knees with the ring in the box.

  We’d only been back together a few days.

  I’d said, “Shane.”

  That’s all it took for him to sigh and put the ring away. I thought we’d have a fight, but he understood. He said he’d try again.

  He did. A whole month later, he took me out of town to a bed and breakfast. We rode horses. He planned a picnic. The ring was hidden, and I was supposed to find it, but then he’d misplaced it, and he had to expose his plan. We spent thirty minutes digging through the basket trying to find the missing ring.

  I’d said, “You know I love you. But it’s way too soon.”

  Now it was August, and he had me at a complete disadvantage. I loved him. I loved being in his bed with him under me. I never wanted to leave his side, and I mourned like a grieving widow when he left for weeks on tour. All that held me back was a traditionalist’s view of a proper timetable.

  In his arms, time stood still. All that mattered was where our bodies met.

  I bore down and relished his satisfied moan as our hips connected. With him deep inside me, I bent forward and lay a kiss on his pretty lips.

  “Mmm. There.” He thrust upward, hitting me in that spot that shattered planets. “Yes, yes, Shane.”

  His eyes lit up. “When?”

  How could I resist him? If I said now, I was afraid he’d toss me over and start making calls. “Christmas?”

  He flipped me onto my back and pulled out far enough to make me sigh. “Next week.”

  With him inside me, I’d agree to nearly anything. “Mmm.” He hit the place that made me think of sugar. “Keep going.”

  “Saturday.”

  My back arched, and he picked up the pace, bringing me closer and closer. I rasped out, “Anything you want.”

  “Today.”

  I crashed around him. “Yes. Yes.”

  He exploded in me and all I saw were stars.

  Acknowledgments

  This series of book owes its existence to fan forums. Back in the day, I was working on a doctorate in French lit when I heard the siren call of computer programming and made a complete U-turn. Even after I changed careers and started working in development, I couldn’t stop tinkering with my own websites. I’d been involved in forum communities when I found myself with a domain and some software and asked, “Hey, would anyone want to join my little fan site?” To my great surprise, that community grew fast and furious. I built another. I spun up fan sites so fast, people used to joke every time I’d find a new musician I loved, “Hey username, when can we expect the fan site?” And while I loved hanging out and chatting with other like-minded fans, I got a huge kick out of writing blogs, especially when I had a partner in crime to share the load.

  So thanks to sidekicks like McLovin and dozens of other usernames I could rattle off—friends I’ve never met and people I’ve traveled the world with.

  I am indebted to my writing circle for all the support and encouragement they give me every single day. This book had fallen off my radar when I picked it back up, dusted it off, and started working on it again. I wouldn’t be anywhere without Kelli Newby, Elly Blake, and Kristin Wright, who generously read all my words, sometimes multiple times, and courageously offer up improvements. They make my books a little better with every suggestion. As always, I have to thank my cheer section: Jen Hawkins, Summer Spense, Kelly Siskind, and Ron Walters. You guys make the writing world go ‘round.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving feedback on goodreads or on whichever ebook retailer you buy books from. Reviews help authors reach readers.

  And check out my other books:

  Some Kind of Magic

  A Crazy Kind of Love

  Dating by the Book

  Find out more at maryannmarlowe.com

  Do not miss Eden and Adam’s story in

  SOME KIND OF MAGIC

  by Mary Ann Marlowe

  Now available in bookstores and online!

  In this sparkling novel, Mary Ann Marlowe introduces a hapless scientist who’s swept off her feet by
a rock star--but is it love or just a chemical reaction . . . ?

  Biochemist Eden Sinclair has no idea that the scent she spritzed on herself before leaving the lab is designed ot enhance pheromones. Or that the cute, grungy-looking guy she meets at a gig that evening is Adam Copeand. As in the Adam Copeland—international rock god and object of lust for a million women. Make that a million and one. By the time she learns the truth, she’s already spent the (amazing, incredible) night in his bed . . .

  Suddenly Eden, who’s more accustomed to being set up on disastrous dates by her mom, is going out with a gorgeous celebrity who loves how down-to-earth and honest she is. But for once, Eden isn’t being honest. She can’t bear to reveal that this overpowering attraction could be nothing more than seduction by science. And the only way to know how Adam truly feels is to ditch the perfume—and risk being ditched in turn . . .

  Smart, witty, and sexy, Some Kind of Magic is an irresistably engaging look at modern relationship—why we fall, how we connect, and the courage it takes to trust in something as mysterious and unpredictable as love.

  Read on for a preview. . . .

  Chapter One

  My pen tapped out the drum beat to the earworm on the radio. I glanced around to make sure I was alone, then grabbed an Erlenmeyer flask and belted out the chorus into my makeshift microphone.

  “I’m beeeegging you...”

  With the countertop centrifuge spinning out a white noise, I could imagine a stadium crowd cheering. My eyes closed, and the blinding lab fell away. I stood onstage in the spotlight.

  “Eden?” came a voice from the outer hall.

  I swiveled my stool toward the door, anticipating the arrival of my first fan. When Stacy came in, I bowed my head. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”