I sat back soaking in the afternoon sun. I had at least an hour before I had to be anywhere and I chose to revel in it instead of stress about how soon it would all be over, which was my typical modus operandi.
Lydia, the ultimate in cool, shifted in her chair, grinned, and smoothly said, “Don’t turn around, Lizzie, but it looks like some goth-giant-vampire is about to walk past us. He’s got to be wearing lifts in his boots. Just take a gander to your right as he walks past.”
I played it cool, didn’t move, and slid my eyes to the side to glance as two guys walked past. That’s when I lost my cool, and gave myself whiplash.
“Rockstar!” I squealed. Yes, I admit it I squealed.
I leaned over the table and hissed at Lydia, “Oh my God it’s him!”
He turned with a toss of his glorious hair. He wore round black sunglasses, so I couldn’t tell if he looked at me or just past at my ear.
“Invisagirl.” He smiled. An actual smile, not a faint grin like he sported two nights before, but a million watt, blind me with white teeth, smile. He had a predatory quality to his smile. Maybe it was his large white teeth, maybe I just wanted to be his prey.
All of it had an instant zing effect on me. I vibrated. My cells hummed. He remembered me, and he smiled in my direction. He didn’t stop to consult the guy he was with, just switched directions, stepping over the wall with his amazing long legs and striding over to us. Today he wore all black, tight jeans, a button up shirt, and a vest with a pocket watch on a gold chain, no large leather coat. His clothes emphasized the difference between his broad shoulders and narrow hips. He had a distinct sense of style that labeled him a rocker much more so today than it had the other evening.
He pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. “Hi. I see we are having afternoon coffee with a lovely friend.” He addressed the air directly behind my head. Still toying with my powers of invisibility.
“Yes, well, chai tea to be exact.” Why did I have to pick now to be so particular? Right, just to say something. So, the universe could remind me I was a card carrying dork, with a capital D.
“Will you introduce me to your lovely friend? This isn’t Inconsiderate Friend is it?” His voice was as smooth and deep as I remembered.
Lydia glanced at me quizzically.
I mouthed “Trish” at her.
She nodded in understanding.
She had full disclosure of my failed evening with Trish, and how Rockstar made me feel. Well, most of it, anyway. I kept the details of my erotic fantasy of him to myself.
“Oh no, this isn’t her. This is…” I paused, wondering should I use her name or give Lydia a code moniker?
“Lovely Friend,” he finished for me. I was doing the obligatory hand motions, like a TV spokesmodel presenting the next vowel.
“Lovely Friend,” I motioned toward Lydia, then motioning toward Rockstar, “this is Rockstar.”
“Of little consequence,” he finished.
I looked around for the guy he was with. “Where’s your associate?”
“Oh, Studio Guy?” He looked around.
Just then Studio Guy joined us. He had made his way through the restaurant to come to the patio. I guess he was not tall enough to walk over walls with grace and dignity.
“Ah Studio Guy,” Rockstar began, “Please meet Lovely Friend and Invisagirl. Ladies, Studio Guy.”
Studio Guy leaned over to shake hands. He wasn’t privy to the game of nicknames so as he took my hand he said, “I’m Doug.”
Lydia introduced herself with her real name as well. Doug sat next to Lydia, and she sort of scooted closer to him. Did she know she did that with men? If a man was close, she would position herself to be closer.
Doug wasn’t bad looking; he just wasn’t anything like the angel-god next to me. I could tell Doug liked Lydia. Guys liked Lydia. I tended to fade into the background of Lydia if men were around. Lydia was slim and delicate; with extra enhanced curves and a rich tan she maintained all year long. Her exes were more than happy to enhance her. She had her eyes fixed, her boobs implanted, and a Botoxed brow. She had big brown eyes, Hollywood glamour, and an evil sense of humor. Then I realized Rockstar also regarded Lydia. He looked past me, but directly at her. Suddenly, I hated her.
She cocked her head to one side studying Rockstar. He and Doug explained how they had spent the day touring a few of the studios that Doug represented, meeting with different sound engineers.
Lydia had that expression on her face, that I’m completely involved in what you are saying look. Men responded to her when she gave them that look. I think I actually really hated Lydia just then, forget being best friends. She was giving Rockstar that look.
I know I shouldn’t hate her, after all she couldn’t help it. She was the blonde trophy men went after. I sat further back in my chair and listened and watched resigned to my fate of living vicariously through Lydia. Rockstar had the most amazing neck and jaw, and even though he was not interested in me, I still wanted to chew on his lips.
In a smooth motion he leaned back, placing his arm on the back of my chair. Even clueless me knows that was an action of what? Possession? No, he was leaning back, and my chair was a convenient height for his arm. It meant nothing. That didn’t keep the vibration I experienced on a cellular level from speeding up. It was difficult to breathe. He was so close. With his other arm he removed his glasses and tossed them on the table. In a continuation of the same fluid motion he ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face.
I think it was more sculpted than I remembered. His jaw was mostly smooth with a hint of blue under the skin indicating he would have a dark beard if he let it grow, and I noticed just how thick the hair in his sideburns was as they tapered into long points along the edge of his jaw, almost like a beard, but the points ended before his chin. His ear lobes were pierced with large gauge plugs and looked like they would be soft to nibble on. I noticed a faint scar that divided his left eyebrow, and another small scar on his cheek next to the same eye. And, his eyes, they were blue. Electric vibrant blue.
Lydia giggled.
I definitely hated her.
“I’ve got it,” she said. She leaned forward and asked Rockstar to hum a specific song.
He did. The deep sound resonated perfectly in his chest.
“Thought so,” she said and kicked me in the shin. Great, my supposed best friend was not only stealing my erotic fantasy man simply by existing, now she was beating me up.
“What?” I snapped, maybe a little too sharply.
“Give me your iPod.” She put her hand out and wiggled her fingers to speed me along. She knew I still carried one and had my music separate from my other devices. I handed it over after digging it out of my bag. I was keenly aware that Rockstar was not watching me but watching some area just past me. He would focus on Lydia, but not me. While I tended to not consider myself beautiful, I had been told I was pretty once or twice when I was younger. I had a heart shaped face with high, wide cheekbones and a pointy little chin. My eyes were round and dark blue, and I had a straight sloped nose. Why couldn’t he look at me? Was I uglier than I realized? Was I really that unkempt? Did I have dirt on my face? Maybe I smelled funny.
Lydia scrolled, muttering to herself. “Don’t you have a rock playlist in here? There it is. Damn, you have a lot of Landslide. There!”
She handed the player back. The band was AudioVox, an older grunge-metal-rock band, the song “My Destiny.” One of their singers had this yummy deep dark, toe curling voice. She gave me one of those, yo dumbass get a clue expressions. She nodded at the player, then nodded at Rockstar, all while looking intently at me.
I gawked up at Rockstar.
He grinned at Lydia. “Busted?”
I reached over and gave him a good-natured smack on his arm. “You said you were from an insignificant band, you’re in my iPod!”
“I can’t help it if you have questionable taste in music. You like Landslide, ew.” He mock cringed at my slap.
“Oh you,” was all I could muster.
He was actually from a band I listened to.
“I know who you are! Sort of. Well I guess it’s good I never knew what you looked like before.”
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Well, then you would have witnessed my other superpower. Fangirl: Puddle of Goo.”
This book hooked me from the get go I just couldn’t put it down I fell in love with these characters and omg what a story just a perfect read. ~ a Goodreads reader
What do you do when your imaginary friends start pestering you with images of sexy male strippers and hot were-shifters? You write stories about them. Well, that's what I did! Oh, and then I combine them and toss them in a kilt for good measure!
Hi, my name is Lulu and I write sexy hot contemporary and paranormal romance. Welcome to my website.
Making the Para "Normal" and the Supernatural Extraordinary.