Dance With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “I’m Starla.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “You’re being difficult.” I scratch my hands through my hair in frustration.

  “I’m not trying to be. Obviously, I’m missing something here.”

  “I’m too famous to date, and that’s not me trying to be a diva. It’s just the truth. I have to wear a disguise when I leave the house because, otherwise, I’ll be mobbed.”

  “Look, I’m not here because you’re Starla. I don’t care.”

  “If I thought otherwise, you wouldn’t be standing in my living room with my come on your hands.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Watch yourself.”

  I narrow my eyes back at him and walk closer. “Or what?”

  “I may not be willing to fuck you right now, but I’ll spank that gorgeous ass of yours. Where have you always wanted to go in Seattle that you can’t?”

  I stop short, halted by both the question and the ass-spanking comment.

  I honestly wouldn’t mind if he spanked me.

  “Focus,” he says with a smirk.

  “The Pop Culture Museum,” I reply immediately. “I’ve heard the Nirvana and Kurt Cobain exhibit is amazing, but there’s no way I can go in there.”

  “Because you’re Starla.”

  “They’ve asked to use some of my memorabilia in the museum, Levi. If I walk in there during business hours, I’d have a mob on my hands.”

  He nods and retrieves his phone from his back pocket.

  “Go get dressed.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He sighs and stares at me in frustration. “Can’t a man surprise you just a little? I’m sweeping you off your feet here. Go get dressed.”

  I grin, suddenly excited to see what he’s got up his sleeve. Before I rush upstairs to get dressed, I leap into his arms and plant my lips against his, kissing him fast and furiously before jumping down and hurrying to change my clothes.

  “I’ll be down in ten minutes!”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “It’s closed,” I say when we walk up to the Pop Culture Museum doors. It’s near the base of the Space Needle, in the heart of downtown. The sun has long been down, but people are bustling about, enjoying the warm summer evening.

  At least with the sun down, the likelihood of being recognized is lessened.

  “Don’t worry,” he says, smiling down at me and squeezing my hand.

  A man appears at the door and unlocks it for us, then locks us in.

  “Hey, Levi,” he says, holding his hand out to shake.

  “Luke,” Levi says with a nod.

  “Hey, Starla,” Luke says with a smile, and I immediately walk into his arms for a warm hug.

  “I didn’t know you’d be meeting us here.” I step back and smile up at the ridiculously handsome man. He’s married to Natalie, the woman who owns the house I’m staying in, and he’s one of Hollywood’s hottest movie producers.

  Not to mention, back in the day, he was one of the most famous movie stars there was.

  “It was a surprise,” he says with a laugh. “When Levi called and asked me to get you guys in here, I was happy to oblige. I’ve had the staff turn on all of the lights throughout all of the exhibits, so feel free to look around at everything.”

  “What, do you own the joint?” I ask with a laugh.

  “No, it’s a non-profit,” Levi says.

  “But I’ve made sizeable contributions, and I know the people in charge.” Luke winks. “I’ll leave you to it. Ralph, the evening janitor, is around to turn off the lights and lock the door behind you when you’re done.”

  “Thanks, man,” Levi says.

  “My pleasure. Enjoy.” He turns to walk away but stops short. “Oh, two more things. Natalie told me to tell you both to come over for dinner tomorrow. She’ll text you the time. And the Nirvana exhibit is down that way.”

  “Thanks.” I grin at him and almost melt into a puddle when he winks at me before walking away.

  “Do you have a crush on Luke?”

  “Don’t you have a crush on Luke?” I counter as we walk down to the Nirvana exhibit. “He’s ridiculously handsome.”

  “I’m going to have to kill him,” Levi mutters, making me laugh.

  “Nah.” I boost up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “He’s happily married, and I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, so we’re good. Oh, my God.”

  I stop cold in the doorway and just look around the room. An interview is playing through the speakers, Kurt’s voice talking about their start in Aberdeen, Washington.

  “Look at these photos,” I whisper, pouring over Polaroids in a glass case. The whole band in the late ‘80s is in the photos, young and acting silly. Their eyes are full of cockiness and humor. Hope. Love.

  We spend an hour, reading journals and postcards, watching interviews, and I long to reach through the glass to play Kurt’s guitar.

  “I met Dave Grohl,” I say as we walk out of the room toward an exhibit about Star Trek. “A couple of times, actually. But at one event in particular, I was able to sit with him and talk about music, how it’s changed over the past thirty years, and thank him for inspiring me as a young woman.”

  “That must have been amazing.”

  I glance up and smile. “It was the best moment of my life. There are so many musicians that I admire, that inspire me, but Nirvana was special.”

  “You were young when they were popular.”

  “Very.” I nod thoughtfully. “And I couldn’t get enough of them. Their songs inspired me to write my own.”

  “Fascinating,” Levi says. “Your music is so different from theirs.”

  “You listen to my music?”

  “Of course, I do,” he replies with a shrug. “It’s all over the radio.”

  “Give me your phone.” I stop in the middle of the Marvel exhibit, right in front of Iron Man, holding out my hand.

  “Why?”

  “I want to see something.”

  He unlocks his phone and passes it to me, and I immediately open his music app, search my name, and feel my eyes go wide when I see every song I’ve ever released on his device.

  “Levi.”

  “I guess you’ve poured some of your heart out, so I should do the same.”

  He takes his phone back, stuffs it into his back pocket, and holds my hand as we wander around. “I had only heard the music on the radio before our first night together, and if you remember correctly, earlier that day when Jace, Joy, and I all met you at Meredith and Mark’s house, I didn’t recognize who you were.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, laughing at the memory. “Joy was mortified that you guys didn’t know me, but it was actually really refreshing.”

  “I’d heard your music, but no, I didn’t know who you were. After our night together, I downloaded everything I could find.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I felt closer to you while I was listening to the music, the lyrics. Getting to know you, I guess.”

  Levi’s not wrong. I pour everything into my music.

  “You’re a sweet man.” I kiss his shoulder. “And I have so many regrets about the days after we were together.”

  “Let’s not dwell on regrets,” he says as we make our way through the last exhibit, about ‘80s movies. “Let’s just move on from here. I’m just happy to spend time with you, sweetheart. We’ll take it slow.”

  “Maybe we’ll call it going at our own pace, rather than taking it slow.” I grin up at him and sigh when he pulls me to him and kisses me with a passion I haven’t known in five years. I didn’t think I’d ever feel it again, and yet here it is.

  I’m enjoying it, and I’m scared of it.

  I’m just not willing to let it go.

  I’ve decided I’m addicted to swimming. Until my piano gets here, I need a creative outlet, and it seems that means I’m in the water.

  It’s mid-morning. I slept like the dead last night and woke up feeling feisty and ready to go. The be
st part?

  No dizziness. None.

  It’s amazing how good I feel.

  I’m paddling backward, enjoying the way the sunshine feels on my face and listening to the birds singing in the trees. I should use my pool more often in LA. If I were home more.

  When I reach the end of the pool, I flip over and do the breaststroke to the other side, then turn onto my back and mosey back the way I came.

  All in all, it’s not a bad way to spend the morning.

  After a few more laps, I stand to walk out of the pool.

  “Fuck!” I scream, clutching my chest over my pounding heart at the sight of Levi lounging lazily in a pool chair. “How long have you been here?”

  “Long enough to count ten laps,” he says with a smile. “If I’d known you swam naked, I would have come by earlier.”

  “Funny.” I don’t bother to cover my nakedness as I walk into the house to the bathroom where I have towels and fresh clothes waiting for me.

  “You’ve got a great backstroke,” he says from the doorway, grinning like a fool.

  “I’m glad you got a good show.” I laugh as I tie my wet hair up in the towel and reach for my underwear. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I brought coffee.”

  “I don’t drink coffee.”

  “I remember.” He sips from his to-go mug, smiling at me over the rim. “But I wanted coffee.”

  “Do they not sell coffee by your house?”

  “Where do you think I got this?”

  I tilt my head, watching him. “None of this makes sense.”

  “I wanted to drink my coffee while I sat with you.”

  “Huh.” I unwrap the towel and comb my tangled hair, then twist it into a wet knot. “Well, looks like you managed to pull that off.”

  “I sure did.” He chuckles. I should be mad at him for watching me when I didn’t know that he was there, but I’m not. At all. He’s already seen me. And I like having him nearby. “I thought I’d pick you up to go to Nat and Luke’s for dinner, too.”

  “We don’t have to be there for about seven hours.”

  “Oh, good. We have time then.”

  “You’re so mysterious today. Time for what?”

  “You’ll see.”

  ~Levi~

  “I’m not dressed to go anywhere,” Starla says in protest as I lead her by the hand out her front door. “Seriously, I’m a mess.”

  “We’re not going far,” I assure her. We walk past our cars and across the street to Wyatt and Lia’s house.

  “I’m definitely not looking good enough to see your family right now.”

  I stop in the middle of the road and tug her to me. God, she molds against me like she was fucking made for me.

  “You would look good with the damn plague, Starla. Just trust me here, okay?”

  Her eyes roam my face, and finally, she nods once. “Okay.”

  I kiss her forehead before setting off again, moving up Wyatt’s driveway to ring the doorbell.

  “You’re here!” Lia exclaims when she opens the door.

  “Lia, this is Starla,” I say lamely as Lia takes my girl’s hand and happily leads her into the house.

  “Duh,” she says with a laugh. “I didn’t get to meet you when you were in town for the show because Wyatt and I were on our honeymoon, but I heard it was ridiculously amazing.”

  “Thank you,” Starla says with a smile. “Meredith has told me a bit about you guys.”

  “What, my loving brother-in-law hasn’t been singing my praises?” Lia props her hands on her hips and glares at me. “Just kidding.”

  “Hi, Starla,” Wyatt says as he holds his hand out to shake hers. “Welcome.”

  “Thank you,” Starla replies again. “I’m happy to meet you both, I’m just a little—”

  She looks at me for help, but before I can say anything, Lia jumps in.

  “Confused as to why you’re here,” Lia guesses. “Levi called me this morning and explained that he would like to date you properly, which I kind of swooned over if I’m being honest.”

  Starla blinks rapidly, still staring at me, and her plump lips part in surprise.

  “And he told me about your challenges with being recognized in public, which I can completely understand. I don’t have even a fraction of the celebrity you do, and I’m recognized sometimes, too. Not to mention, my cousin is married to Luke Williams, and we have Will Montgomery and Leo Nash in the family.”

  “That’s one intimidating family,” Starla says. “Every time I go to a family function with you guys, it’s like being at the Grammys and the Oscars at the same time.”

  “I know,” Lia says with a laugh. “And I’m not rattling all of that off to show off, but to say that I understand your need for privacy and to just go to the grocery store without it being an event.”

  “Exactly.” Starla relaxes immensely, and the smile she gives Lia is genuine. This was not a bad idea.

  Thank Christ.

  “I’m a makeup lover,” Lia continues as she leads Starla to the dining room table that’s covered from end to end with tubes and brushes and more color than the human eye should be able to take in. “I have my own line coming in a few months.”

  “I heard,” Starla says, startling Lia. “I can’t wait to try it.”

  “Oh, hold please.”

  Lia rushes out of the room, running quickly for a girl in bare feet, then returns holding a big, pink shopping bag.

  “You can have everything.”

  “Holy shit,” Starla says, peeking into the bag. “This is incredible. Thank you so much. I’ll share on my social media.”

  The room is silent as Wyatt and I just watch our girls interact. Without a word, my brother passes me a bottle of water. We’re fascinated.

  Lia just blinks at Starla, then suddenly, her eyes fill with tears.

  “Oh my gosh,” she whispers.

  “If you don’t want me to share, I won’t,” Starla quickly says, but Lia shakes her head adamantly as she dabs at the tears.

  “You have no idea how that could help me,” she says, her voice thick. “It could be a game changer.”

  “I have a feeling I’ll be paying you back for whatever it is we’re about to do.”

  “Oh!” Lia laughs and looks over at Wyatt with shiny blue eyes as she pulls her thoughts together. “Focus. Okay, we’re going to give you a disguise.”

  Starla scowls. “I can do that on my own. I just wear a hat and some sunglasses. Sometimes, I’ll throw on a wig.”

  “Too obvious,” Lia says, shaking her head. “You look like someone in disguise. The whole purpose of a disguise is to blend. To make others think you’re someone else. I’ve got some wigs here that I picked up, and I’m going to show you how to do your makeup and wear the hair so you don’t look like Starla anymore, but just the girl next door going on a date with your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not—”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Lia says with a flick of the wrist, and I can’t help but smile at my brother, who’s also chuckling. I bet Starla doesn’t have many people in her life that just take over.

  It’s fun to watch.

  “Blond or brunette?” Lia asks her. “The hair color will affect the makeup.”

  Starla glances at me. “Do you have a preference?”

  “Plague,” I repeat, making her laugh. “You choose.”

  “Let’s go brunette. I haven’t done that in more than a decade.”

  “Brunette it is,” Lia says with glee. “Oh my God, this is so fun. Now, this is how you apply the wig so it doesn’t look like a wig.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re across the street,” Starla says dubiously. “I have a feeling this is going to include a steep learning curve.”

  “I’ve got you, friend. Now, hold it like this . . .”

  “I can’t believe it,” Starla says an hour later as we sit in my vehicle, driving toward downtown Seattle. “I look so different.”

  “It’s ama
zing,” I agree as I glance her way. The brunette wig is short, just hitting her collarbones. It has bangs, but the hair looks natural.

  Lia applied the makeup with a light hand while changing Starla’s features just enough that a person might say, “you look like . . .” but not believe that she’s actually Starla.

  “Lia’s one talented woman,” Starla says as she tucks the mirror away and relaxes in the seat. “Where are we going?”

  “Have you been to Pike’s Place Market?”

  “No, I was supposed to go there a few days ago with Mer, but we got sidetracked buying out Chanel. I’ve always wanted to see it.”

  “I thought we’d roam around the market for a while, and then the Space Needle, unless you’ve done that before and you’d rather do something else.”

  “Never done it,” she confirms with a firm shake of the head. “I’ve only seen the outside.”

  “Well then, you’re about to be a tourist, beautiful lady.”

  She smiles with excitement. “Wait. You have to call me Beth today. To go with the disguise.”

  “That might be hard to remember. What if you don’t respond to it when I call for you?”

  “I will. It’s my real name.” She says it like it’s no big deal, but this is news to me.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. Beth Anne March. That’s my given name.”

  “Huh. How did you come up with Starla?”

  “I read it in a book when I was a kid and liked it.” She shrugs. “So, when I moved to LA to pursue the music, I changed it legally. On paper, I’m Starla Mason.”

  “Where is your family?”

  She frowns but doesn’t answer, and I can feel by the shift in the air that this isn’t a subject she wants to talk about. I’m a cop. I know when someone’s evading or dodging. I would normally let it go, but I’m falling in love with this woman, and I want to know everything there is to know about her.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it today, that’s fine,” I say and feel her sigh in relief. “But we’ll come back to it. I want to know everything there is to know, the good and the bad.”

  “That’s fair,” she says and clears her throat. “I’m having a great day, and I’d like to keep it that way, so do you mind if we shelve this for now?”