Seeing Stars

by J. Sterling

  “Look at me, Walker,” I pleaded. “I’m the one who feels like a jerk. I should be apologizing to you. So, I’m sorry.”

  He turned his gaze to the floor. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t regret being so generous.

  “Why didn’t you want to go out with me?”

  I started to spout off, Why the hell did you want to go out with me? but stopped myself and calmly said, “Because you didn’t seem like my type.”

  “What’s your type?” His eyes bored into mine as he waited for my answer.

  “Not the guy in the tabloids with a different girl each night.”

  His eyes grew wide. “So you just believed all of it? You don’t normally believe the things you read, but with me all bets are off? I’m just such a scumbag that of course whatever they print must be true. Right?”

  “God, Walker, no,” I lied, although his words actually reflected how I felt. Or used to feel. “I mean, I don’t know. I had no reason to believe otherwise. Should I have?”

  The outraged look on his face confused me as I wondered what the point could be to all of this.

  “You didn’t stop to think for one second that there might be more to my story than what meets the eye?” he demanded, and my insides suddenly filled with guilt. Why the hell was I feeling guilty when Walker was the man-whore in this situation, not me?

  “Why would I?” I shot back. “It seemed so obvious the type of guy you were. Not like it’s surprising in this town. Why would I question it?” I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I didn’t want to lie either.

  He twisted the cap from his water and tossed the cap on the coffee table, then took a small sip. “I guess you’re right. It probably does look really bad. My publicist keeps telling me to tone it down, but I’ve never seen anything wrong with it.”

  I sighed, my hopes for Walker being decent plummeting more with each second that passed. “Most guys like sleeping around. I can see that you wouldn’t be the exception to that rule.”

  Walker choked in mid-swallow and reached for a napkin. “You think I’m sleeping with all those girls they take my picture with?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He coughed and pounded at his chest with his fist before taking another gulp of water to clear his throat. “No. Listen, Madison, what do you know about me?” He leaned his body forward to close the gap between us and I defensively leaned away, my skin pressing back against the cool leather of my couch.

  “Not much.” I shrugged. “I know that you’ve been singing most of your life and that you grew up in Malibu.”

  “Stop. That part.” He looked meaningfully into my eyes.

  “The you-grew-up-in-Malibu part?” I scrunched my face, not understanding what he was getting at.

  “I’m from here. I’ve lived here my whole life. I went to school and played music at the same time. Those girls that I’m always photographed with…” He blew out a breath and reached across the space between us to touch my cheek, and my eyes closed for a second at the warmth of his skin. “Those girls are my friends. They always have been and they keep me out of trouble. As long as I’m with them, I’m not going home with some groupie who wants to use me so they can sell a story. So yeah, you might see pictures of me leaving with a new girl every night, but I’ve known that person pretty much my whole life. I’m not some crazy player who has one-night stands anymore. Jesus, do you even listen to the lyrics of my songs?”

  He sounded offended as my mind searched to not only recall some of Walker’s songs, but the lyrics as well. In this moment all I could think about was his fingers on my skin and that kiss in the elevator. But he was right. His music was romantic, the lyrics filled with sweet words and deep emotions. They were songs about lost loves, albeit sometimes sung in a rap god sort of way.

  “So you’ve never slept around? Nothing they say about you is true?”

  His gaze flicked away as he lowered his head and massaged the back of his neck with his fingers. “To be honest, after my mom died, I went a little off the rails.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  The months after his mom passed away filtered into my memory. Gossip-laden headlines sprang to my mind as I recalled that period in Walker’s life. That was when he started making the news daily in a negative manner.

  “She was really sick,” he said in a low voice, then looked up at me. “You remember?”

  My eyebrows knitted together as I sat there perplexed. “Remember? What do you mean?”

  Walker stared at me for a moment, and when I said nothing more, he said, “Sorry, I just figured you’d remember from the press or the news or something. Anyway, when she finally died, I was happy she wasn’t in pain anymore, but I’d also lost my best friend. She was my biggest fan, you know? So I drank too much, screwed too many girls, and almost blew it all. That’s when my friends stepped in. They told me I was out of control and that I was going to ruin everything I’d worked for my whole life. And they said my mom wouldn’t be happy. That practically fucking killed me.”

  He grimaced before looking straight at me. “Don’t hate me for this.”

  Touched by how vulnerable he was making himself, I said, “I won’t.”

  “Promise,” he insisted.

  I smacked him on the shoulder. “I can’t promise.”

  “Then I’m not telling you.”

  I groaned. “Okay, okay. I promise.”

  “You promise what?” he prompted.

  “I promise I won’t hate you.”

  “My friends pretty much staged an intervention, but they called it a whore-vention.” He tried to smile but couldn’t, and I giggled at the name. “They made me promise that if I was going out, at least one of them had to be with me. And I didn’t have to stop drinking, but I had to stop giving all my money to strippers and the blackjack table, and I had to stop fighting strangers and stop sleeping with random girls. That’s basically it.”

  He winced and asked tentatively, “So, do you hate me?”

  I had already assumed that Walker was as typical as they came. After all, I’d been familiar with his antics before going out with him this evening. If I felt any emotion at all at this point, it was understanding. “No, I’m shocked actually. I can’t believe no one’s ever put it together that the girls are the same.”

  His face relaxed and he nodded. “I know, right? I never go to a club alone and I always leave with the same friends I came with. It’s just that no one sees that part. They take their pictures, they angle them a certain way, edit them, crop them, do whatever they want and say whatever they want, and people believe them.”

  The lack of bitterness or anger in his tone surprised me. He sounded completely at peace with it all.

  “I wouldn’t be able to stand that,” I confessed.

  “Which part?”

  “The part where people thought things about me that weren’t true. I’d go nuts,” I said with a small laugh.

  He reached out his hand and took mine in his. “You would go nuts trying to change everyone’s opinion of you. That in itself is a full-time job. There are some things you just have to let go of, and that’s one of them.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?”

  He shrugged. “Depends on what they say.”

  Glancing up at the clock on my wall, I noted how late it was. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really need to get to bed. I have to work in the morning.”

  Walker glanced toward the clock as well, then frowned. “We haven’t talked about your work yet.”

  “I really don’t want to. Not tonight. Can I tell you about it some other time?” Considering how my emotions had been so up and down from the events of the entire day and night, it was a wonder I hadn’t crashed already.

  He cocked his head to one side. “You really weren’t going to go out with me?”

  “I wasn’t even going to call you back,” I deadpanned.

  “Ouch.” Pushing himself off the couch, he
reached for my hands and pulled me to my feet. His lean frame towered over me, especially now that I was barefoot. Taking a step toward me, he tugged my body hard against his as sexual awareness zapped through me. When he kissed the top of my head, his breath warmed my hair.

  I may never wash my hair again.

  Oh my God, how fan girl is that?

  His fingers splayed wide as his hands pressed against my lower back. Each touch from him sent electricity racing through my veins.

  Relaxing, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back with just as much intensity. I pulled him against me, holding him tight, savoring the contact between us. It was amazing how things had changed in the course of a few hours.

  Walker stiffened, then pulled back slightly, his grip on me loosening. “Shit. I don’t have my car.”

  My head dipped at the realization. “That’s right. Do you need me to drive you back to the restaurant to get it?”

  Please say no.

  “Nah. I’ll call a cab.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” His fingertips gingerly guided my chin upward to face him. “Unless you want me to stay here with you tonight?”

  Adrenaline kicked into high gear as my knees practically buckled with want. Thank God I was wrapped around him for support. Before I could formulate an answer that made a lick of sense, his soft, full lips were back on mine, attacking me pleasurably. He nipped my bottom lip with his teeth, tugging it into his mouth as he sucked on it. I melted into his movements, his actions, his very being.

  The thought that I should stop this briefly entered my mind, before exiting stage left just as quickly. I’d spent so much time judging this man without knowing him, assuming everything printed about him was true. But after everything he’d confessed to me tonight, I liked the Walker Rhodes who currently stood in my living room, making love to my lips and teasing me with his tongue.

  I wanted more of him. My body ached for all of him. But not tonight. Reluctantly I moved my hands from around his neck to the front of his chest and pushed away lightly, breaking our connection. “You need to go,” I said playfully, giving him a rueful grin. “Or I’ll never let you.”

  “That’s not a good way to get me to leave.” He kissed the top of my head once more, then reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone, pulling me close again as his arms wrapped back around me and his fingers punched at the screen behind me.

  “Do you think the paparazzi are still here?” I asked.

  He blew out a breath and shoved his phone in his pocket. “I forgot about them. They might be. Hopefully they got bored and left. Not like there’s much to report from this location, and getting pictures of me by myself are nowhere near as fun for them as getting pictures of me with random girls.”

  “Go then. You sure you’re fine calling a cab?”

  “Already called.”

  “When?” I pulled back from him to meet his eyes, wondering just when the hell he called a cab because I’d never heard a thing.

  “I have an app. It lets them know I need a pickup and from where, and then I get a text when they’re outside. It comes in handy. I sort of want to marry this app.”

  I smirked and said, “This sounds serious. I wouldn’t want to come between you two.”

  “Too late.” A smile crept over Walker’s face as he leaned down to press his lips to mine one last time. “I plan on doing this a lot, so you’d better get used to it.” His tongue swept across my lower lip before sneaking into my mouth and teasing mine.

  My mouth moved with his, never breaking contact as he threaded his hand through my hair, then cupped my head and tugged me closer. I pulled at his neck, wanting him closer, as if him pressed completely against me wasn’t close enough. He groaned and the vibration sent messages of lust straight between my thighs. His erection pushed against my body and I rubbed myself against it. I wanted to rip off all his clothes and have my way with him on the carpet in my living room. Classy, I know, but I was more turned on at this point than I could ever remember being. It had clearly been a while for one of us.

  Cupping my ass, he squeezed, the action followed by more moans escaping from that perfect mouth of his, before he moved away and I instantly hated his absence. His lips moved across my jaw line before traveling down my neck, and I tilted my head back, luxuriating in the pleasure he gave me. I wanted him to take all of me, to lick every square inch of my body. If he asked me again if he could stay, I’d scream out the word yes and then spend the rest of the night doing things with him that people only wrote about. We were both adults, for God’s sake. We could do it on the first non-date if we wanted.

  Right?

  Oh God, I’m a total floozy.

  When a chirp sounded loudly from Walker’s pocket and he reluctantly moved his lips from my neck, I wanted to cry out from the sudden loss, to yell at him to put his lips right back where they were and not to ever stop. I focused on breathing, calming down the ache between my thighs, and gathering my wits.

  Never in my wildest dreams did I think that this was how my night with Walker was going to end.

  “My cab’s here.” He looked at his phone with regret, both of us so filled with desire I swear it circled in the air above us, begging us not to stop.

  I swallowed, unable to speak since my breathing was still erratic and my mind was mush.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He smirked. “And don’t think I won’t. This right here,” he waggled his finger between our bodies, “isn’t over.”

  One last soft kiss on the lips and he headed out the front door. I leaned against it and sank to the floor. That was without doubt one of the hottest nights of my life.

  So far.

  The following morning I woke up, not quite sure which parts I remembered about last night were reality and which were a dream, especially after the rather sexually explicit one I’d just been having. I rolled my neck from side to side before stretching my arms toward my ceiling and rolling out of bed.

  Last night I’d all but forgotten about the fact that I wanted to know why Walker was so hell-bent on seeing me and going out with me. Every doubt, question, and concern in the world completely disappeared the moment his lips had touched mine.

  Stupid magical lips.

  But as I brushed my teeth, replaying the events of yesterday and his confessions from last night¸ I couldn’t have cared less about the whys of it all. Gratitude was my overwhelming emotion, as I was so damned thankful that my boss coerced me into going out with Walker.

  Stupid, beautiful, wonderful, magical lips. When will we meet again?

  I must be ill.

  Feeling my head for a fever and confirming the lack thereof, I started getting ready for work. Keri was already gone, so I knew I’d be dealing with a barrage of questions from her later. The thought made me laugh out loud.

  Once I’d dressed in faded blue jeans with a sand-colored sweater and matching ankle platform boots, I pulled my hair back into a messy bun. Gold clutch in hand, I headed out of my building, completely oblivious to my surroundings as I walked absentmindedly toward my designated parking space. The sound of clicking and questions being shouted at me almost made me drop my purse as my eyes shot up and looked straight into multiple camera lenses.

  I was not prepared to be met with the paparazzi. Walker had sent me a text that the parking lot was clear when he left last night, but they must have come back early this morning. So I was caught off guard as men carrying cameras closed in all around me, shouting questions.

  “Madison, are you dating Walker?”

  “Did he spend the night?”

  “Is he still in there?”

  “Are you pregnant?”

  What? I stopped walking and turned to the gaggle of sleazy men. “Are you kidding? Jesus. I’m not pregnant and I need to get to work. Please move so I don’t run you over.”

  Hopping into my car, I put it in reverse and backed out slowly, the cameras pressing against my car windows, the sound of clicks
echoing all around me before they pulled back and disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

  Glancing into my rearview mirror, I noticed the line of cars that followed me. They already knew where I worked, and it wasn’t like they could get into the building. Why they continued to follow me, I had no idea.

  Maybe they think I’m going to see Walker?

  I weaved carefully through traffic, my motions deliberate and slow, hoping the paps would catch on that I was actually headed to work and leave me alone. It wasn’t until I made the last left turn onto Wilshire Boulevard and clicked on my turn signal that they sped off, obviously content knowing my destination.

  The elevator mirror revealed the stress from the morning’s activities as I noticed pieces of my updo falling all around my face. Instead of fixing it, I decided to leave it alone, my hair the least of my worries. I passed Jayson’s office on the way to my desk, the familiar red light flashing at me mercilessly. The sight now brought an awkward smile to my face.

  “Madison, come in here, please.” Jayson’s voice pleasantly boomed from behind his office wall. At least he sounded happy.

  Holding my breath, I walked into his brightly lit office.

  “Come sit. Here.” He pushed an unopened bottle of water my way as I warily sat down. “So, how was your date with Walker? Did you two have a nice time?”

  Jayson was suddenly attentive, his tone agreeable and overly sweet, which caused my stomach to churn at its fakeness. I almost asked him to stop, the disgust roaring through me too much to take this early in the morning. Plus, he was trying to ruin my magical evening, cheapening it, and I hated the very idea.

  “Is he going to sign with us?” Jayson beamed at me, a smarmy smile transforming his aged and sun-beaten face.

  Uncertain how to break the news to him that Walker wouldn’t be signing with him, I decided to cut to the chase and just spit it out. It would inevitably have to come out anyway, and it would be in my best interest to leave out the part where I spilled the beans to Walker about the real reason I agreed to go out with him. There was no need to get into any more trouble over this, which I was certain I would be. Getting into trouble, that is.