Page 15 of How to Love a Rockstar

Cash chuckles. “You can’t deny it’s true.”

I shrug. I might have crashed and burned with Virginia once, but our story isn’t written yet. I have the feeling my little librarian is worth the wait.

“I’m impressed, Jett. You put together a Lego airplane. How much time did you need?” I ask.

Jett shrugs. “It’s not as if I have anything else to do.”

Shit. A bored Jett is trouble waiting to happen.

Fender grunts. “I don’t give a crap if you’re bored. If you riffle through my underwear drawer again, I’m throwing you off the roof.”

“Don’t be so sensitive. It’s not as if I haven’t seen your underwear before.”

Fender stands and begins stalking toward Jett.

“Does anyone want to hear my new song?” Cash asks and Fender stops.

Cash clears his throat and begins to sing.

In the crowded room, she's the queen,

A distant star, the coolest scene.

I try to speak, but she turns away,

Lost in the rhythm of the games she plays.

Apparently, it’s make fun of Dylan Day. Whatever. “Haha. Very funny.”

“There’s more,” Cash claims before singing again.

She ignores me like a faded song,

Lost in the noise, I'm moving along.

A wall of silence, a distant stare,

I'm drowning in the depths of her cold, cold glare.

Virginia’s glare isn’t cold. It’s hot. Burning hot. She pretends to not want me but I know she does. I just need to figure out what’s holding her back.

“Is this the new song?” Stan asks.

“Nope!” Jett shouts. “It’s an ode to the burning embers of Dylan’s sex life.”

“You know what we should do?” Gibson asks and I consider tackling him since whatever he’s going to say is certain to piss me off.

“We should make a scoreboard and keep track of how many times Dylan crashes and burns with Virginia,” he suggests.

“Do you think there’s a Guinness Book of World Records category for how many times a man is rejected by a woman?” Jett asks.

“Let’s ring them.” Gibson digs his phone out of his pocket.

Fender grunts before setting his bass down and returning to the sofa where he opens another bag of food containing a plate of sausage and bacon.

“I’m starving,” Cash complains before reaching for a sausage. He pauses when Fender glares at him. “Who wants breakfast?”

“Didn’t you eat at home?” I ask him.

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