LOW: A Rockstar Romance (4 page)

Chapter 5

Zoe

"Goddamn, girl!" Scarlett crowed. "Wait, turn around. Twirl for me."

I obliged with the biggest, stupidest grin on my face.

"Goddamn," she repeated.

"I'm not saying a word," Keir said, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "But I think a few of the guys at the party might."

I shimmied from foot to foot, feeling the dress swish against my thighs. I had done exactly what Jason had instructed and spent right down to my last dime. The dress didn't cost a million bucks, but it sure made me feel like it. It was the perfect shade of sapphire blue, the kind of blue that did something to my dirt brown hair, made it look more, I don't know chestnutty or something. It was nipped in at the waist, the part of me that had so far escaped the layer of sadfat, but flounced out in a series of box pleats that the sales girl had described as
flirty.

Flirty for sure. "I feel like my old self again," I sighed to Scarlett as we slid into the waiting limo.

"I'm so happy to hear that," Scarlet said warmly. "Let's have a blast tonight, okay? Promise?"

I nodded enthusiastically, already feeling the excitement of possibility coursing through my veins. Tonight, I was having fun. Tonight, I was young. Tonight I wasn't this sad, unemployed recluse I was slowly turning into. Tonight I was Zoe Chandler, partying with rock stars and I was going to fucking
dance.

The crowd in front of the club felt like the old days all over again. I could feel the jealous stares of the girls congregating at the entrance, hoping to be invited in. This used to be my life, flashing my press credentials, showing off my backstage access and heading to the front of the line.

Only this time I was propelled to the front of the line because I was arriving with Keir Wilder. It didn't even matter that I was clearly the third wheel.  I shot a winning smile over my shoulder as the flashbulbs went off, then grabbed a startled Keir and shoved him in front of me.

"I want to dance!" I nearly screamed. "Get us in there!"

I felt, rather than heard his chuckle. Scarlett grabbed his arm and the three of us made our way into the dark, deafening club.

Swirling lights bounced off the two-story high banners that hung from the ceiling. "Oh my god, is this your
fragrance experience
?" I teased Keir.

He chuckled. "Awful, isn't it?"

Scarlett shook her head. "I think Twitch looks good!" she said, grabbing her boyfriend's hand.

I looked again. The face that glowered down at me was faintly familiar. I knew I'd seen the drummer for Ruthless before, but this was the first time I'd ever thought to really take in his face.

There was an odd, angular quality to his features that made him look almost...otherworldly. His eyes turned up at the edges, his cheekbones were as sharp as glass and the hollow below them was deeply shadowed. The ad had been Photoshopped to within an inch of its life, but there was still some humanity there, something that couldn't be erased. I couldn't figure it out. Until it hit me all at once.

His eyes. There was a light inside of them and that light was not otherworldly at all. It was a light full of mischief and fun.

It made me smile back at the picture, without even meaning to.

"Hot damn that's a good picture," I exclaimed.

"So I've heard," Keir sighed grumpily. "You ladies want a drink?"

"Can you go deal with the bar for us?" Scarlett wheedled him. "We're here to dance." She shot me a wicked grin. "Right, Zo?"

I practically wiggled in glee. "I am so ready."

Sheer elation propelled me forward onto the massive dance floor. Buffeted by the heaving, writhing bodies around me, I let out a whoop that was half madness, half relief.

I could pretend tonight. I could start again. I could be anyone I wanted, instead of the scared, tired, ragged thing I had become.

For one night only, I had a whole wild, thrilling buffet of options and I could sample them all.

"I love you Scar!" I shouted over the bumping club music. She smiled, all of her old shyness gone now that she and Keir were firmly back together again. I grabbed her hand and forced her to spin me, and instead of ducking me like the old days, she just laughed and kept on spinning me and spinning me, like I was a top.

"I'm gonna puke!" I yelled dizzily.

"Well you're in luck, I see Keir with our drinks. Come on!"

She yanked me forward, and I stumbled after her. The room was still spinning and it matched my mood. I felt dizzy and wild and not at all myself. And that was the best fucking thing I could be.

Scarlett hurtled through the crowd, making a beeline for her man, who caught her up and pulled her right into his lap for a long, deep kiss. She let go of the hand that had been steadying me, forcing me to fling myself at a clear space at the bar to prop myself up.  I looked up woozily and right into a pair of eyes so warm they practically glowed amber.

They're so much better in real life,
was the first addled thought that came to my head.

"Hey, you're Lowell," I said before I could catch myself. And then, as if needing to double down on the awkwardness, I kept on babbling like I already knew this guy, like staring at his two-story face had somehow served as an introduction. "Thank you for inviting me, you had no idea how much I needed this."

The corners of his amazing eyes crinkled. It was only then that I started to register the rest of the face they inhabited.

The static glare of the photograph didn't reflect reality at all. His face was alive with tiny little quirks and micro-expressions. His mouth curled up with boyish glee. "No problem," he said. "I'm glad I was able to give you what you needed."

I looked up at him sharply. "Is that innuendo?"

The corners of his mouth turned down in offended innocence but there was no mistaking the way those eyes twinkled. "Only if you want it to be." He leaned back on his stool.

"Hell, I'd be an idiot not to flirt with a rock-star slash model," I grinned. I still felt dizzy, but now it had nothing to do with spinning.

"And you don't strike me as an idiot, Blue."

"My name is Zoe. I'm here with..." I gestured over to where Scarlett was entwined with Keir. "My friend over there, but she seems to have gotten distracted."

"Damn, that sucks. If I had come here with you, I wouldn't let you out of my sight."

"Yeah?" His nearness was breathtaking. As in, I was literally having trouble catching my breath. I realized that I
had
seen him before tonight. In the background of pictures, a quick cut in the videos.
Of course.
He was the manic energy that fueled the whole band.

But up until now, I couldn't say I'd ever seen him up close. Two-story tall banners didn’t exactly count.

But right now?

He was super fucking close to me. And he was watching every move I made with those turned up eyes.

"No, I'd keep watch on you all the time. And when I wasn't with you, I'd be looking at your picture so that I could see you even more." He grinned slyly and then ran his tongue along his bottom lip so that it shone like an invitation.

"You don't have a picture of me," I pointed out.

He leaned back. "And that's a shame. Because then I could show you how beautiful you are.

Chapter 6

Low

In a sea of plastic, she was the real deal. Once I saw her, I finally realized what was so off-putting about this whole party. All the girls...they danced because they felt like they had to.

But Zoe? She moved with the reckless abandon of a girl who
has
to dance. I'm a fucking musician. Music moves me. I move the music. And as she stood in front of me, I could see that we were two of a kind. She couldn't stop moving, swaying, shimmying. My own hands drummed on my thighs, aching to touch her and press her close to me so that we could move together.  She threw her head back, her hair falling over her shoulders so beautifully that for a second I wished I was a fucking photographer so that I could capture that image forever.

"I like watching you dance," I told her. For some reason, I had the feeling I could tell Zoe the truth. About everything.

She grinned, tucked her hair behind her ear. "You can watch me, I don't mind."

"You like being watched, Zoe?"

"Is that more innuendo?"

I pressed my hand to my heart. "Honest question, I swear. Scout's honor."

"Bullshit, you were never a scout."

"Hey now, I made it all the way to Arrow of Light."

She was amused. "Then what happened?"

I grinned. "Found a drum kit at a garage sale."

"And the rest was history?"

I reached for her hand. "Yup. The history that led up to tonight, and you letting me watch you dance."

"Oh, you're smooth."

"Not usually, but that's the alcohol talking."

She looked over her my shoulder. "Speaking of which, Keir said he was getting a drink for me."

I managed to tear my eyes away from her face long enough to register that Keir had forgotten about the world entirely. "Well, then I see it's up to me to redeem the entire band in your eyes.  I wouldn't want to lose a fan."

Her eyes twinkled. "I'm not a fan."

"No?"

She leaned forward, placing her hands right on my knee. The jolt that went through me when she touched me made me twitch just like my nickname. "I'm a music writer," she told me, holding my gaze. "This is my job."

I swallowed. "Well," I told her. "You're really good at it."

The way she smiled told me that I'd said something she really needed to hear. "Thanks," she said, very sincerely.

Curiosity ignited, I turned and rapped my knuckles on the bar. "Another Blue for me, and whatever she's having."

She absentmindedly tucked her hair behind one ear, exposing her shoulder. There was one, long, smooth, beautifully curved line that stretched from the soft place behind her ear all the way down to her exposed shoulder. Without meaning to, I closed my eyes, trying to hold that picture in my head for as long as possible.

I was ready to marry her right then and there, and that was even before she called out her order. "Jack on the rocks."

A girl after my own heart.
I held up my flask. "My first choice as well."

She smiled at me. I smiled back. It was beautiful and perfect and for once in my life I was content to just let the anticipation hang there in the air. It was the first time I ever sincerely wished time would just stop and I could just live here, frozen in time, looking at her face, forever.
I wanted to hold on and savor...
something
to counteract all the rapid-fire changes in the past year.

Her lips seem like a good place to start.

I leaned forward.

She licked her lips.

"Hey!" Scarlett flung herself breathlessly between us. "Sorry! Sorry!" she said, drunk and apologetic. "I'm shit at introductions. Twi-er-Low, this is my friend Zoe."

Zoe snapped back from me like Scarlett had caught her with her pants down. "Hi there!" she chirped.

Her voice was false and wrong sounding. That's how I knew that moment I wanted to capture was lost forever.

"We've met," I told Scarlett, as politely as I could.

Zoe swayed in place. "So... I think we're going to go dance now," she said, sounding dazed.

"Okay, cool," I said, popping up from my stool without a second thought.

"You're coming?" she asked.

"Sure I am."

She seemed amused. "Really?"

I gestured to the banners. "It's my fucking party, after all."

She bit her lip, but with the way her shoulders hitched, I could tell she was trying not to laugh. "I guess it is," she hedged.

Eager hope flooded through me. "And I want to dance with you, Zoe."

"You know how to dance?"

I pretended to take offense. "I'm a drummer, may I remind you. I have a fantastic sense of rhythm. I won't embarrass you. I promise." I held out my hand.

She slipped her hand into mine. I looked down to where we were connected, her slim fingers entwined with mine. Fuck the moment we shared before, this was the one I wanted to hold on to forever. And I was starting to think of a way that I could.

"Okay," she said, bouncing a little with excitement.  "Dance with me, Low."

Chapter 7

Zoe

I used to pride myself in being the life of the party. Put me in the middle of an awkward situation, and I nearly always knew just what to do. In fact,
Grip
used to send
me
out to do interviews with the reclusive musicians, the ones who hid and eschewed the press. Because I was so good at drawing people out of their shells.

But in the year I'd spent sitting at home, waiting for the phone to ring with the job offer that never came, I'd formed a shell of my own. The longer I stayed inside, away from people and music and the life I had loved, the more frightened I became. Rejection after rejection covered me in a thick coat of depression. The longer I stayed unemployed, the more that coat calcified around me, suffocating my joy and squeezing out my self-confidence.

Inside the shell, I was hard and brittle, fearful and sarcastic. I was hesitant in a way I didn't recognize; self-conscious in a way I couldn't shake. 

Fuck this shell and the brittle, hollow thing that lived inside. I didn't like who I'd become and I didn't want to be that person anymore.

I wanted to get better, and I knew that would take a while, but until then there was only one thing to do.

Pretend.

When a bad-boy rockstar drummer whose face was plastered all around me leaped off of his barstool to follow me to the dance floor, my first self-conscious thought was to beg off and shy away. He had a whole club full of girls that wanted a piece of him, why would he want to dance with the semi-fat girl who reeked of desperation?

That was the shell talking, though. I knew it. And I was here to break the shell wide open.

So I smiled at him and took his hand and invited him to dance with me. And as soon as I did, a little bit of the shell chipped away.

He led me to a spot a ways off from the main floor, dark and more secluded, though by no means private. "This good?" he asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

I took a deep breath. Tonight, I realized, the best thing to do was to just ignore every one of my instincts. If I did the exact opposite of my gut reaction, then I had a prayer of actually having a really good time.

And hell did I need a good time.

"This is perfect," I told him, ignoring the way my hand trembled at my side.

Low nodded and then reached out his hand. "You okay if I touch you?"

I took another deep breath.
The opposite of my gut reaction.
"Yeah," I breathed.

Then I reached my hands up wrapped them around his neck and pulled him down to me.

He let me pull him down, down and down  - he was at least a foot taller than me - until his lips just brushed mine. His mouth met mine matter-of-factly. The kiss was not hesitant in any way, but casual instead. It lasted just long enough to give me a taste of what was to come if I chose to let the kiss go deeper. I knew he was letting me know that he was willing to go just as far as I was willing to take it.

If I wanted to, I could part my lips and let him sweep his tongue against mine. If I wanted to, I could let him cover my mouth with his, and hear the fierce growl that emanated from somewhere deep inside of him. If I wanted to, I could let his hands roam my body as he devoured my mouth at his leisure. If I wanted to, I could taste the bourbon on his lips, slide my tongue against his and feel his body press down, molding to mine as we moved together.

I could do all of those things, if only I wasn't frozen in place, paralyzed by how badly I wanted to do them. 

"Hey," he murmured, breaking away and looking into my eyes. He must have seen the panic in them because he gave me a soft, encouraging smile. "I'm not gonna do anything you don't wanna do. So you just show me, Zoe. I'm a pretty quick study. I pick things up right away." He grinned and tucked my hair behind my ear, and his voice dropped lower, barely audible over the thud of the bassline. "Barely ever have to rehearse more than once."

My heart was banging around in my chest like a frightened rabbit. "Was that rehearsal?" I panted.

"I like to think it was."

"And what's the main event?"

He didn't even have to answer. His smile...and my blush, said all that needed to be said.

"I think." I stopped. Swallowed.
The opposite of my gut reaction.
"I think you should put your hand on my waist."

"Show me."

I bit my lip and took a deep breath, then slid my hand around his waist. The heat of his skin rose through the thin fabric of his gray t-shirt. He watched me carefully as I ran my hand around to rest at the small of his back. "Like this," I told him, pressing the heel of my hand into the slight curve at the base of his spine.

He nodded once. I did not wince when his hand rounded my waist. I ignored the desire to suck my soft tummy in and stand up straighter. Instead, I watched his eyes widen ever so slightly when his hand found the curve of my spine. He pressed in gently, bringing me in tighter against his taut abdomen. "Now what?" he asked.

"You should touch my face." I reached up, tracing a line down that angled jaw. When my finger brushed close to the corner of his mouth, it curved upward.

Touch for touch, he imitated me, mirroring my movements so intuitively that after a while I could no longer tell if I truly was the one who initiated them. Fingers tracing across lips, palms smoothing down spines, we moved as a unit, letting the music lead us. My hands started to know him intimately. He was tall, and narrowly built, with a wire-y strength to him that had been whittled down over the years on the road. There was not an ounce of anything extra on him, and he carried himself tightly, like a coiled spring. I knew he was holding back, I knew he was resisting the desire that was flashing in his veins. I knew this because I was doing the same thing.

Never had I been so in tune with another person and I had known him for less than an hour.

He growled something as his lips brushed past my ear. Words seemed so insignificant, but I forced my lips to makes the shape of a reply. "What did you say?"

"I'm going to remember this moment," he said quietly. It sounded less like a statement and more like a promise.

"Me too," I said thickly. I reached up and threaded my fingers behind his neck. "This is exactly...."

At that moment, my best friend, the girl who had been so kind as to invite me here in the first place, the friend who always looked out for me and had my back and yet seemed to have the shittiest sense of timing on the planet, appeared at my elbow. "There you are! I thought you were dancing right next to me all this time and then suddenly I looked up and realized I was dancing like an idiot all by myself and...oh." She looked at my hands around Low's neck and the realization seemed to dawn in slow motion. "Oh shit...."

"Hey Scar," I breathed.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's, like, the second time I've done this with you two, haven't I?"

I reluctantly disentangled myself from Low. "Not your fault, babe," I reassured her. "It's been so long since you last saw me with a guy that you probably forgot what it looked like."

Low was grinning his easy grin. "I like your friend, Scar. Thanks for bringing her."

I looked down at my shoes but I knew there was no way to hide my blush.

Scarlett laughed. "She's a good one Twi-er-Low. Be good."

"Aw, you're no fun," he whined.

My friend bopped him on the nose like he was a bad puppy and he just smiled that smile of his like this was all the most fun he'd ever had. When you work as a writer, your days are spent dealing with people who have the most inflated sense of self-importance imaginable. I'd never met someone so willing to be the butt of the joke. I'd never seen someone so eager to make someone else smile. 

"So, um, I'm really sorry that I'm like third- wheeling it here, but Zoe? You put me in charge of getting you home in time."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Right, shit." I looked up at Low's confused face. "I have to watch my little brother tomorrow and he gets up before dawn even thinks of cracking."

"That's cool," he laughed lightly. "Hey, why don't I take a picture of you two before you go."

Scarlett brightened. "Okay!" she said, eagerly grabbing her phone out of her tiny purse and handing it to Low. Then she smashed her cheek up against mine. Low grinned and aimed the viewfinder. "One two...  three!"

He snapped the picture, then deftly moved Scar's camera to his pocket and pulled his out. "Now my turn," he announced, stepping in between us and extending his arm, snapping off a selfie before I had a chance to close my mouth. He looked at his phone. "I need a better one, Zoe. Smile!"

I froze. "Just me, alone?"

He nodded. He looked so happy and eager and I knew there should be something creepy about his asking, but there was nothing remotely creepy about Low. His eyes were just too kind. "Just want to remember tonight," he added.

Me too
, I thought. "Okay, sure." I flipped my hair over my shoulder and gave him my best three-quarter profile.

"Smile for the camera, baby, you're a model!" he teased, snapping off a few shots. He ducked and weaved around me, affecting this really wide lunge.

"What are you doing?" I laughed.

"I have no idea, honestly," he confessed with a grin. "This is what they did at the photo-shoot for that ad up there, so I figured that's how it's done. Told you, I'm a quick study." He took another picture. "Dance for me, now." I laughed and wiggled in place.  "That's right, move. Make love to the camera, it loves you, baby!"

I twirled around with my arms over my head while Scarlett clapped and cheered, while Low snapped away "Oh, work it! Yes! Gorgeous!"

I landed breathlessly and turned on Low. "You sound ridiculous!"

"I don't sound like a photographer?" He frowned in mock seriousness. "I just learned all this shit...clearly."

I whipped out my phone. "I'm taking pictures of you now too," I chided him. "Blackmail material."

He raised an eyebrow. "Blackmail, hmm? Sounds like you'll need me to take my clothes off then."

"Aaaand, I'll just move over here for a minute." Scarlett took three steps backward and then turned and faced the other direction.

Not that I would have noticed her anyway. Not with Low's words still hanging in the air. "I might," I told him. The thought of him with his clothes off was quite appealing. If he
looked
as good as he
felt
....

"If we're going with blackmail, we need to up the stakes here." He leaned in. "Get something juicy. Want me to show you how to be a model?" He took my hand and pressed it to his chest. "Put your hand here." He took my other hand, wrapped it around his neck, forcing me closer. "And the other. Now turn your head to me and look at me like I'm an especially juicy burger."

"I'm a vegetarian," I gasped. I was so close I could see the swirl of stubble on his jaw.

"A juicy piece of broccoli, then," he corrected. "Lower your eyelids, like you're really fucking sleepy." He demonstrated, shooting me bedroom eyes that could kill any red-blooded woman, and then grinning. "Fucking perfect, wanna see how gorgeous you are?" He extended his long arm and snapped the picture before I had a chance to look away. "Now, here's the money shot," he said, turning his face toward mine.

The edge of his top lip brushed upward across my jaw and caught the corner of my mouth. I closed my eyes in surprise.

Just as the flash went off.

He pulled back and looked down. We were still entwined, my hands where he'd placed them. I slid back. Reluctantly.

"Now I just need to know something," he said.

"What's that?" I asked, a little too eagerly. It was frightening how ready I was to tell him anything he wanted to know.

He gave a low chuckle. "What's your number, Zoe?"

"Oh." I rattled it off mindlessly and he tapped several keys on his phone. Then looked up at me, expectantly.

"Um, I kind of don't have service down here," I explained, blushing.

"Too bad," he said. "Call me when you get it, okay?"

"Get what?" I asked. But he waved over his shoulder and Scarlett was at my side, leading me away.

We emerged, blinking, into the warm, brightly lit night and as soon as we stepped outside, I felt my phone buzz in my bra.

I pulled it out with a smile, expecting to see him calling me to be sure I gave him the right number.

It was the picture. His lips, my closed eyes. The almost kiss. It was searing, erotic, the hottest picture I had ever seen. There was no way it could be me in it, but there was the birthmark on my jaw, there was the freckle on my earlobe.

And his heavy-lidded eyes, staring at me like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.