“That’s not what I wanted to say.” I really was about to offer to invest in his idea. “I just thought that it’s so amazing you’ve got a dream. I think it’s great, and I know you’re going to do it.”
“Thanks.” He grinned at me. “So how about you? Are you going to be like Mick Jagger and continue rocking the stage when you get to his age, or are you going to retire someday?”
I know my plans for the future. I want a warm body beside me every night when I go to bed and beside me in the morning. And a real bed too, in a real house. Not tour buses and hotel rooms. I want kids. Maybe two. Maybe three. Maybe just one kid I’ll spoil rotten. Even though I’m a rock star, in the end, my dream isn’t so different from almost every other woman. But I don’t tell him that. No, I smile like I have never, ever considered his question.
“What would I do?” I shrug. “I guess I’ll know when I get there.”
We both sit smiling at each other. He breaks eye contact first to glance at my novel.
“So, you want to tell me what that book is all about, or do you want me to destroy another one of your bikinis?”
Maybe it’s what we just shared or where my thoughts had gone, but I pick up the novel. “Since I’m particularly fond of this one, I think we need to talk about the novel.”
“Oh.” He pretends to be crestfallen. “And here I was hoping.”
Laughing, I begin to explain what happens in the book to him. At least the part of it I’ve read. But that night, in bed, I crawl into his arms. Our lovemaking is gentler than it usually is, almost as if he understands that I need to be petted and treated with care. And when we are done, he gathers me close, covering my body with his as I fall asleep. It’s less than what I want, but for now, it would have to do. If I’d known that our world would come crashing around us the next day, I would’ve kept my eyes open and enjoyed every moment of it with him.
The phone wakes us the next morning. It’s Jane calling to tell us that our lucky streak has ended. Our private world has been invaded by the evil known as tabloid sensation. Jake is no longer just Jake but now KD’s mystery lover, Jake Hurley.
Chapter 25
“We can sue them, right?” I demand from Jane. “It was a private island. They had no right to take pictures of us.”
I stare at the magazines scattered on the table in front of us. There are pictures of Jake and me swimming in the ocean, me rubbing sunscreen on Jake, one of us kissing. Seeing my privacy violated like this makes me feel sickened inside.
Jane gives me a sympathetic look. “We could sue, but it would just cost money, throw unnecessary publication on the whole mess, and we may not even win. Katie, you know as well as I do how dumb the laws on this kind of things are.” She comes to sit beside me. “This is not the first time the paparazzi have taken pictures of you. Do you want to talk about what’s really bothering you?”
“No.”
“All right. And how’s Jake taking it so far?”
“Better than I expected him to,” I confess. “He just shrugged and said it was bound to happen eventually, and that he had no problem with it if I didn’t.”
“Then why are you so worried?” Jane seems surprised. “I mean, you should be used to this by now, and the person I would think would have a problem with it doesn’t.”
“Look, Jane.” I pick up my phone and show her an article from one of the gossip sites. “They went digging into his life. Jesus, even I didn’t know that he won some local art award a few years ago, or that he used to date this girl.”
I frown at the blonde girl standing next to Jake. I know they broke up almost a year ago, and even still, I don’t want to know that much about any of his past relationships.
“Don’t you think you’re worrying over nothing?”
“They’re violating his privacy,” I cry out, not understanding why Jane isn’t getting it.
“Yes, it comes with the territory of dating a rock star.”
“And that’s it.” I jump to my feet as I try to make her see my side. “We were not dating. Sure, he might seem like he is all cool with it now. But wait until they start taking pictures of him when he goes out to throw his garbage out or when the lies start coming out. I don’t think having sex with me is worth that kind of garbage.”
“Oh, come on. Sex with you is worth more than that.” She winks at me. “I’d stomach a couple of lies if I got to hit that.”
“Jane, I’m serious.” I’m surprisingly close to tears. “I’m not ready to lose him just yet.”
She becomes serious. “How about you just tell him the truth then? That you’re in love with him.”
“No,” I say immediately. “Did you hear the part where I said I’m not ready to lose him just yet? What do you think is going to happen if I walk up to him and tell him that?”
“I don’t think you give him enough credit. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Any guy would give an arm and a leg to be with you. And I think Jake likes you more than you think he does.”
“I can’t chance it,” I say. I return to the magazine. “So, what are we going to do about this?”
“Depends on you.”
“We could just ignore it and hope it goes away,” I suggest.
“I don’t think that’s going to work. It would just add fire to the mystery and leave those idiots to keep on imagining things.” Jane picks up one of the magazines and crosses her legs as she stares at the pictures. “Can’t blame them though. Look at the way you’re looking at him here. Even a blind man would tell you you’re clearly besotted with him.”
“No, I’m not.” I stare at the picture she’s pointing at, and even I’m surprised by the love-struck look on my face. In the picture, Jake is making drinks in the bar by the pool, and I’m floating in the water a few feet away. “How about you focus on what we are going to do about this instead of staring at pictures of me?”
Jane looks up at me. “Simple. We just say Jake is a friend and nothing more. Give them the story we want them to run with. We’ll even throw some feminist mantra around, like why can’t a woman be friends with a guy without it turning to some sordid love affair. You know, put them on the defensive a beat.”
I hate to hear our affair being described as sordid, but I have no choice. I just hope this whole thing blows over before Jake decides he can’t take it anymore. He went home straight from the airport, suggesting that we take different cars to reduce the risk of being seen together. But I know he’s just trying to remove himself from this whole mess, and if I don’t clean it up soon, he’ll leave me. I can’t have that. I’m not ready to lose him just yet. I won’t ever be ready to lose him. But especially not now.
Chapter 26
I watch Jake trudge naked out of the bathroom and join me on the bed. He immediately pulls me to his body and curves his body around me.
“You okay?”
I nod my head and lean up to kiss his cheek. We are in a hotel room because the paparazzi are staking both his house and mine. He brought up the idea to meet in this hotel room, and I burst into laughter when I walked into the room and found him wearing the most ridiculous disguise I’ve ever seen. The mustache was obviously fake, and I doubt anyone would think the blond wig on his head was his. When I asked if that was how he’d escaped the paparazzi, he said he sneaked out the back of his house and only bought the disguise because he knew it would make me laugh. And it did. Then he gave me a look that made me stop laughing. We didn’t even make it to the bed for my first or second orgasm. Considering it’s almost a week since I’ve seen him, my hunger is more than justified. With all the attention we’re getting, we only speak on the phone and make video calls, and while phone sex with Jake is amazing, it doesn’t compare to the feel of the man himself inside me.
Now that my hunger is sated, I’m thinking rationally again, and I have to find out how he’s dealing with the situation.
“How about you? How are you coping?” I push myself up on one elbow. “I know having to deal wi
th the paparazzi can be annoying at times.”
He shrugs, those powerful shoulders moving under my body.
“It can be irritating sometimes, I guess. But I don’t really mind. Besides, I’ve got ways of avoiding them if I want to.”
“Then you must let me know what your secret is then? I need to find ways to throw them off my scent.” He chuckles, and I smile with him. “I’m really sorry for everything. I know you like your privacy, and I’ve ruined that.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Of course I did,” I insist. “If it were anyone else, the press wouldn’t be disturbing you over something that is none of their business.”
“But I’m not with anyone else, am I?” He lifts my chin with a finger so he can look into my eyes. “I’m with you, and I’m not complaining.”
I check and make sure he’s not just saying that for my benefit, and when I’m sure, I lean back.
“They are just horrible, those paparazzi. They feel like they have every right to dig into your life all because you’re famous.”
“You’re the famous one,” he says, seemingly not as worried as I am.
“Jane said we have to release a statement if we want it to stop. Go out and tell them that we are nothing but friends, and there is nothing between us.”
He chuckles. “I must be a very close friend since they have a picture of me kissing you. That, or I’m gay, and that’s our version of a secret handshake.”
“What do you suggest we do then? If we don’t put our own story, then everyone would keep on assuming we’re in a relationship.”
“And are they wrong?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“Mention one thing people in relationships do that we haven’t done?”
His question confuses me, especially when I try and realize I can come up with nothing.
“We don’t go on dates,” I finally reply, pointing at him triumphantly.
“Maybe not in a restaurant. But we’ve been to the club. I’ve cooked for you, and you’ve ordered takeout for me. How many times have we sat at a table with good food and had a nice time? I even remember a candlelight dinner once.”
I remember that candlelight dinner too, because when the candle was about a quarter to go, he put me on that table and told me I wasn’t allowed to come until the light went out. I happily failed that test by less than an inch. But he was right; we’ve had some meetings that technically could be called dates.
“You never asked me out officially,” I try again, a little weakly this time.
“Didn’t see the need to ask for something I already had.” He pushes himself up and sits with his back leaning against the headboard of the bed. “Look, we’ll tell the press or media whatever you want. I’m just tired of hearing you saying we don’t have a relationship. It may not fit perfectly with what you call a relationship, but it is one.”
I shake my head. “I thought we were just hooking up. You never said anything about this being more than that.”
“Because considering how much you like to tell me that this is just a hookup, I felt you needed to believe that to be with me.” He shrugs. “I don’t put too much stock in labels. What I care about is the action, and as long as I am with you, then you can call it what you want.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “No. Are you saying we’ve been in a relationship all this time and I didn’t know?”
“You knew. You just didn’t want to accept it.” He pulls me close. “Don’t overthink it because I know that’s what you’ll want to do next. Just do what you want, and I’ll be fine.”
“You just told me I’ve been your girlfriend for the past few months and expect me not to overthink that. How can I not?”
“By focusing on other things,” he says as he leans down and kisses me on my neck.
“Jake,” I say mid-moan. “We should talk about this.”
“You talk too much,” he says as his fingers find the knot on my robe, and he pulls. Since I have nothing underneath, he places one of his hands on my breast. “How about you just feel this time?”
Then he lowers his head and takes my nipple in his mouth, and I do feel. A lot. And this time, it’s not just about the physical part of his hands on me. It’s also the fact that he’s finally giving me something I’ve wanted for a long time. He’s slow this time. Romantic even. As usual, he makes me moan in orgasm, and I bury my face in his robe to hide the tears that fall down my face.
After, he spoons me and settles in as he sleeps. I lie awake, thinking about everything that just happened, and it leaves me feeling confused and afraid. I have always thought I wanted to be in a relationship with Jake. But now that he’s giving me that, I realized I’m afraid I’ll be bad news for him. He thinks the paparazzi are minor problems now. If word gets out we’re actually in a relationship, then even he’ll be shocked by the lack of privacy it will mean for him. And what about the other stress of being in a relationship with a rock star? I wonder how long he’ll last. A month. Two maybe. But I know that in the end, he’ll eventually tell me he can’t do it anymore. What will happen to me then? I leave now and all I would have is a broken heart. But if he leaves me after one month of giving me everything I ever wanted, I don’t think a broken heart is all I would have.
I quietly get out of bed and quickly dress. When I’m done, I’m creeping toward the door with my shoes in my hand when I think of something and tiptoe to the journal and pen on the bedside table and scribble a note for Jake. It’s short and all I can bear to do if I don’t want tears all over the paper. I’m dropping the pen when I hear a rustle from the bed and look up to find Jake staring at me.
“Katie?” He blinks. “What are you doing?” He sees my shoes in my hand and sits up. “Are you leaving? I thought we could stay a while longer. We’ve not really gotten the chance to talk since you got here.”
I shake my head, afraid to speak out for fear that I’ll just burst into tears.
“What’s that?” he asks, pointing to the note on the table.
It’s in his hand before I can snatch it, and I see his face change when he reads it.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t be here when you read that,” I say in a quiet voice.
He looks up at me. “What? You couldn’t break up with me to my face? Is that what you’re saying?” He gets up and angrily storms to pick up his pants from the floor.
“Jake,” I plead with him, realizing that I’m wrong about being able to bear that heartbreak. “I didn’t know how else to do it. I mean, think about it? A few hours ago, I didn’t even know we were in a relationship, and now leaving you means that I’m breaking up with you. It’s too much too fast.”
“What? You wish you could just end it with a shake while you traipse away to find your next boy toy?”
“Jake,” I squeak, hurt by his accusation. Mostly because it lands too close to the truth for comfort.
“I knew you would never be able to handle the truth. I knew, and I still let myself go on to have feelings for you.” He shoves his legs into his pants and pulls them up. “I’ve done stupid things. This is by far the most stupid of the lot.”
“Do you think this is easy for me too?” I ask. “I’m doing this for you. I’m doing this because I can’t bear to walk away from you a month after now or maybe two when you finally realize I’m not good for you. So, I’m doing it now.”
He stares at me, and for a moment, I wonder what he’s thinking.
“You’re doing this for me?” he finally asks. “I’ve got to admit, that’s a clever one you played there. But hint for your next boy toy. Instead of telling him you’re trying to protect him, how about you tell him the truth and admit you’re just a coward who is okay when the only thing involved is his cock, hand, and mouth. But once the heart comes into play, you tuck tail and run.”
Nothing has ever hurt me as much as his words just do, and I know if I don’t do anything, I’ll fall to the floor and start bawling my eyes out. So, I go
on the attack.
“I’m not the one who is hiding out in the club instead of pursing his dream.”
His narrows his eyes at me. “What?”
I know I’m making a big mistake. But I’m hurt and scared, and even worse, I want badly to fall to my knees and tell him it’s all a big mistake and beg him to forgive me. So, I double down.
“I’m talking about the fact that you hoard all these pictures in your house and in storage all because you’re scared what people will think about it and about you. You want to open your own gallery, and instead of going out to do that, you hide in that club playing the bleeding artist.” I see the hurt in his eyes, and I push the anguish that threatens to drown me with more anger and bile. “I’m scared about this. Yes, but don’t stand there and call me coward when I at least can say I was thinking about you. As for you, the only person you’re hurting is yourself.”
He says nothing for a long time. Just stands there staring at me. Then he walks into the bathroom, and I hear him lock the door behind him. At first, I don’t know what to do. I move my gaze to the bed where just a few moments ago he made love to me. And yes, I’m able to admit it now that the last time was him making love to me. It’s going to be the only time too. And I know one day he’ll thank me for leaving.
As for me, well, time heals all wound. I figure if I live till I’m ten million years old, then maybe the aching grip around my heart will start to ease. I put my shoes on and pick up my keys. I walk out of the room and make my way to my car. Then I burst into tears.
Chapter 27
“The dress for the governor’s charity gala has arrived.”
I look up and see Jane hang a dress bag on my closet door and turn away. Gathering Kent close to me, I hug him harder. The poor dog has been the subject of my attention the past few days, and I spend most of my time hugging him or just holding him. At least he doesn’t seem to mind it, and except for the times he gives me a strange look when I spend all day talking to him, I think he actually enjoys it.
Taming His Rockstar Page 13
