Fake Dating My Rockstar Roommate: A Sweet Standalone Romance (Fake Dates Book 3)

by Maggie Dallen

  He eyed her for a long moment. How to play this situation? In a flash he remembered the girl he’d seen the night before—the one who’d smiled broadly at the sight of him, who’d cheered like crazy when he’d come onto stage.

  The one who’d worn his face on her boobs.

  She was a fan. Which meant there was only one play here. Flirtation. Charm. Flattery.

  He ducked his head with the smile a leading women’s magazine had deemed cute as a button and sexy as sin. “I plan on sticking around for a while,” he said in a slow drawl he’d adopted over the years for interviews and moments just like this.

  Occasions when he needed to be that charming country boy with the heart of gold. Sure, he might get into trouble, but only the good kind. The kind that’s forgiven and forgotten because boys will be boys. How many times had he read that sort of description about himself?

  Too many to count. The safe bad boy. The sinner with a saint’s smile. It was a paradox he’d embraced long ago, and a fine line he had to tread carefully or risk falling into obscurity. His fans wanted a hint of danger, not a jerk. The bad boy who just needed the love of the right woman to set him on the straight and narrow.

  Luckily this was a role he’d perfect years ago.

  “Why not let it play out for a while?” he said, a hint of mischief in his smile. A hint of a promise. I stay, we hook up. What’s the problem?

  He dipped his chin but then glanced up at her, his eyes twinkling with just the right mix of danger and affection. The sinner and the saint. “What do you say, Gina?”

  Her lips parted. Her eyes darkened.

  He fought against a self-satisfied smirk. He could enjoy his win later—like, when he was out of this pit stop of a town and onto bigger and better things.

  He arched his brows slightly. Her expression said she was on board, but he still needed her to say it. He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice even further. “I think this could be a real good thing for both of us. Don’t you?”

  So many implications in that tone. So many promises that he’d never actually keep.

  Did he feel a flicker of guilt? Of course he did. He wasn’t a monster. But he was driven. Maybe even a little desperate.

  And besides, she stood to gain as well.

  He cocked his head to the side, a niggle of doubt making his smile feel a little more forced as her gaze darkened further, her eyes narrowing.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” Her words burst out of her in harsh outrage, and he jerked back in surprise.

  “What?” His hands came up in self-defense on instinct as she stalked toward him.

  She planted her hands on her hips, her pretty features tightening in anger. “You cannot possibly be serious.”

  All at once she dropped her arms and her voice, and she leaned forward with a simpering smile and a weasley tone. “I think this could be a real good thing,” she echoed in a low voice. “Are you freakin’ kidding me right now?”

  Her voice grew so shrill so quickly, he bolted upright, his gaze flicking toward the door where surely a dozen armed deputies would be barging in any second now, led by her brother and that blond guy—the sheriff himself.

  Aston ran a hand over his hair as he looked around uneasily. Crap. That had not gone as planned. “Look, Gina, I only meant—”

  “I know exactly what you meant,” she said with a scowl. “Or what you were insinuating, at least. And I don’t want any of it.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, taking in her rosy cheeks and the way she was breathing heavily. Anger snapped in her dark eyes and her normally full lips were pressed together in a firm line.

  Had he thought this woman a sweetheart?

  More like a firecracker. A flaming hot, pint-sized, moderately terrifying firecracker.

  And she wanted none of his sweet-talking charm, that much was clear. No go on the flirtation. Understood.

  He took off the baseball cap and raked a hand through his hair as he considered her anew. “Then what do you want?”

  She blinked, her crossed arms falling to her sides at his change in tone. “What?”

  “You don’t want the perks of being fame-adjacent—”

  “Perks?” she snapped. “Do you know any woman who would actually pretend to be your...your....” She flapped a hand in his direction. “Just to have their fifteen minutes of fame?”

  Now it was his turn to give an incredulous stare. Was she serious?

  Her glower said she was.

  He tilted his head to the side, and he couldn’t hide a cynical smile if he’d tried. “That’s cute.”

  Her chin drew back. “I am not cute.”

  She was. Adorable, really. But that wasn’t what he meant. “You wonder if I know any woman who’d pretend to like me for a taste of fame?” He moved in closer and leaned down closer. “That sums up every woman in my life for the last...oh, ten years, give or take.”

  Her brows drew down. “Well, that’s...that’s…” She let out a puff of air. “Frankly, that’s just sad.” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “But don’t think you can get out of this with the pity card. I’m not buying the whole poor little rich boy act.”

  But she was. He could see it clear as day in her overly expressive eyes. She felt sorry for him.

  And he had no idea if that made him want to laugh or cry.

  A newly unemployed small-town barista who’d just had her heart stomped on pitied him.

  Yeah, that definitely deserved a few tears.

  “Let’s get back to the point, shall we?” he said with an arch of his brows.

  “What point?”

  “I asked you what you want in return for keeping up this little ruse.”

  She blinked a few times. “Little ruse.” She shook her head. “You make it sound so commonplace.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “It’s not as rare as you think.”

  Half the models and TV stars he’d been linked with had been matches made by his manager and theirs.

  He met her gaze and...yep. There was that pity again. And disdain. This little firecracker was practically overflowing with disdain. That had his spine stiffening as he slapped his baseball cap into his free hand. “Well?”

  He wasn’t in the mood for a sanctimonious speech right now, not even from this cutie.

  “Well what?” she snapped. “I don’t even know what you’re asking.”

  He rolled his eyes upward, not trying to hide his impatience. “Everyone wants something, Gina. Name your price.”

  Her nose wrinkled up and her brows furrowed. “I don’t want anything.”

  He laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “That’s a lie. Everyone wants something.”

  “Fine,” she said. “But I don’t want anything from you.”

  She looked so serious, her gaze was so sincere. It did something odd to his insides. It felt like his lungs were scraping against his inner chest with each inhale and he absently ran a hand over his T-shirt like he might be able to pinpoint the ache.

  “Gina, think about it. I’ve got money, I’ve contacts, I’ve got fame—”

  “Good for you,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

  Not a pleasant smile.

  She looked like she was trying not to laugh at him.

  “My point is—”

  “I know what your point is,” she said. Her tone was flat as she crossed her arms once more. “But why don’t you start by telling me what changed between your promise to end this a few minutes ago and...this.” She waved her hand at him again like he’d shapeshifted into someone else.

  He scratched at the stubble on his jaw. Why hadn’t he taken time to shower and shave before running out for coffee?

  And he still hadn’t gotten that coffee.

  He was entirely unprepared for this interaction.

  “Well?” she said.

  “I’m thinking.”

  She looked highly unimpressed by his answer. “About?”

  He sighed. How much to t
ell you. How to spin it so you’ll agree to this.

  “Why won’t you just go along with this?” he asked.

  “Why won’t you tell me why you need me to?”

  Need. The word made his insides twist. He didn’t need anyone. He hadn’t for a long time.

  “It’s sensitive information,” he said.

  This wasn’t exactly true. It was embarrassing information. But for him, the two were one and the same. His embarrassing secrets in the wrong hands could ruin all the work done by Morgan and the PR people who’d gone before him.

  She gave a little snort of disbelief. “Who am I going to tell?”

  He arched a brow, his gaze glancing to the door. “Seriously?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “If you want my help, you’re gonna have to trust me.”

  Trust. The word was almost as irritating as need.

  But as they stood there, squaring off, her chin set at such a stubborn tilt and her eyes lit with challenge, he realized he’d have to trust her. A little, at least.

  Because she was right. He did need her.

  He winced. That was a bitter pill to swallow. He leaned back against the table with a sigh. “The record execs like the song I sang to you,” he said. The words came out all jerky and weird.

  He supposed it had been a while since he’d spoken so bluntly and honestly to anyone outside of Toby.

  “And?” she prompted.

  “And…” He shoved away from the table, unable to stand still. “And they’re talking about signing me for another record deal if I can write more like that.”

  She blinked a few times, her gaze thoughtful. “Okay,” she said slowly.

  “But they also like this new...image.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to meet her gaze.

  “The lie, you mean.” She said it without the derision, just stating it as a fact.

  He let out a huff of amusement. “Yeah. They like the lie.” He cleared his throat. Crap. This was beyond embarrassing. He felt like he was cutting open a vein for this chick. “They don’t want Aston Rogue the aging, bad boy rockstar anymore.” He aimed for a rueful smile but was a little afraid it just looked sad. “Seems they only want the mature, subdued, reformed musician.”

  “And that’s why you need me,” she said slowly.

  He nodded. “They like this whole story the PR guy spun. A lot.”

  That was an understatement. According to Toby, the record execs had a whole plan to launch a new career for him based on his transformation from big time rockstar to small town, humble family man. “I need you,” he heard himself say. The words felt weird coming out of his mouth, but they were the truth. “I need you, Gina Parker.”

  Seven

  I need you, Gina Parker.

  The words seemed to hover in the air between them, electric and alive.

  Gina swallowed.

  Well.

  There’d be no living with her inner fangirl after that comment.

  She suspected the words, I need you, Gina Parker, said in that somber, sincere tone would be playing on a loop in her mind for the rest of her life, right up to her dying breath.

  “So.” Aston broke the heavy silence with a loud voice. “That brings us back to the question of the day.”

  She blinked. Her mind still hadn’t recovered from the I need you, Gina Parker bombshell. “What?”

  His lips quirked up at the edges. “What is it that you want in return?”

  She flinched. He seemed so very certain that he could buy her help, and that rubbed her wrong. Not so much because she was so self-righteous that he thought she was for sale, but more because he was so jaded he believed everyone could be bought.

  “I wasn’t lying,” she said. “I don’t want anything from you.”

  She saw his jaw clench and watched his fists clench. “Gina, I—”

  “I’m not saying I won’t do it,” she said, putting her hands up to stop him from talking.

  “You’re not?” Confusion and hesitation flickered in his eyes.

  Gina’s insides melted instantly at the hint of vulnerability. He could be a total smarmy toad when he was trying to manipulate her, but then there were moments like this one when he seemed so very...normal.

  Well, normal in a rockstar kinda way.

  But every once in a while she caught a glimpse of the human beneath the star and that human…?

  He was pretty hard to resist.

  And it had nothing to do with her inner fangirl or the sex appeal he wielded like a weapon.

  As her brother was always quick to point out, she was a bleeding heart and a sucker for a lost cause. And that look in his eyes when he’d explained his dilemma?

  He was lost, all right.

  Not a charity case and definitely not a worthy cause. But still lost.

  She could practically feel her heart starting to bleed.

  “So…” He cocked one brow in a piercing look that was so sexy it ought to be illegal. “You’ll do it?”

  “I…” She wanted to say yes. Not because she wanted to do it but because she wanted to be helpful. Insincere schmuck or not, she didn’t want to leave him in the lurch. It wasn’t in her nature.

  But there was one big problem.

  “I don’t think I can,” she said with a wince.

  He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Right. Of course.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Look, let’s cut to the chase, all right? I won’t think less of you if you just tell me what you want.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You’ve got to need money,” he said, speaking over her protest.

  She frowned but he was ticking points off on his fingers. “So far I know this much. You got fired—”

  “I quit.”

  “You lost your job,” he amended.

  She relented with a nod and he continued. “Your last prince of a boyfriend stole your money—”

  “Just my savings,” she mumbled as she shifted from foot to foot.

  He ticked off another finger. “Up until today you’d been working at a coffee shop—”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being a barista,” she interrupted.

  “I’m not judging. I love coffee. I live for it.” He met her gaze evenly and lowered his voice to a reverent tone. “There is no higher calling than being a barista.”

  A shocked laugh bubbled up at his teasing, and she got a little smile in response.

  “But my point is, you could not have been pulling in a high income. So,” he said loudly when she started to argue again. “Unless you secretly have a trust fund and were just working for your own amusement, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say a little cash would not go amiss.”

  She scowled. She wished she could argue, but she was acutely aware of the state of her checking account balance.

  It was not exactly flourishing.

  His expression grew annoyingly smug. “Am I right?”

  Yes. Dang it. She planted her hands on her hips. “You are missing the point,” she said. “I’m not sure I can do it because...I can’t tell a lie.”

  He stared at her for so long that she started to get antsy, shifting from one foot to the other. Then he burst out in a laugh that was so loud and so real, all low and rumbly and manly and—

  Her insides turned to goo in the span of a heartbeat. But gooey heart or not, she needed him to understand. “I’m serious, Aston.”

  “Uh huh. What are you, Pinocchio?” he asked.

  She tried not to smile. “No, it’s just—”

  “Are you such a goody two shoes that you’ve really never lied?”

  “Of course not, it’s just—”

  “Everyone lies, Gina. All the time.”

  That had her smile stopping in its tracks. Did he have any idea how jaded he sounded? It would have been sad if it wasn’t so aggravating.

  Mostly because she’d seen firsthand how easily he bent the truth. If it was just one little lie, she could handle it. But it was the way he transformed like a cha
meleon to show people what they wanted to see. The way he played on a person’s feelings.

  He had a world of power at his fingertips, and he was using it for evil.

  All right, fine. He wasn’t some cruel villain. But still. He wasn’t the hero she’d thought he was either. He wasn’t anything like the man she’d thought she’d known.

  It was all an act.

  An act that was so believable, she shuddered to think what would have become of her if she hadn’t been close enough to see past the veneer.

  A girl could be totally swept off her feet by a guy like this. Swept off her feet, flat on her back, and heartbroken to discover much, much later that the only words to come out of this man’s mouth had been tools to get his way.

  He was just as much of a manipulative liar as Billy.

  And Tommy, and Eddie, et cetera et cetera.

  Sadly she had a laundry list of bad exes who served as one big lesson in why she should not agree to this.

  She’d only get hurt, like she always did when she got taken in by a charming liar. She was too gullible. Too quick to trust. One thing had become remarkably clear in the short time she’d known this man—he was an even better actor than he was a musician.

  Which was probably why he was such a big celebrity. He knew exactly how to give the audience the fantasy they desired.

  His eyes grew stormy and fierce. “I need your help, Gina. Tell me what I need to do to get it.”

  Her mouth went dry at his deep, urgent tone. Oh yeah, a girl could totally forget that he was just trying to get his way when he looked at her like that.

  But she was standing close enough, her gaze just as fixed on him as his was on her. So she saw it. The flicker of impatience, the smug assuredness that he’d get his way in the end.

  He wanted her help, all right. And maybe he even needed it like he said. Which meant that he’d pull out all the stops to get it.

  Just then Colton and Trent came back in. “You guys doing okay in here?” Trent asked. His gaze was on Gina.

  She waved toward Aston. “Will you two please explain to this man that I am not a good liar.”

  Trent and Colton shared a look before bursting out laughing.

  “Remember that time she tried to cover for you at school?” Trent asked.