Page 56 of How to Love a Rockstar

“Nothing you think about or worry about is silly.”

He always knows the exact right thing to say. “I should send your mom a bouquet of roses to thank her. She did right when she raised you.”

He grins. “She did but you’re not changing the subject.”

“You’re like a hedgehog with a maze. Never gonna give up.”

“Nope. I have stamina.” He waggles his eyebrows.

“I give up.” I throw my arms in the air. “You’re a rockstar and I’m a librarian.”

He waits for me to explain further, but when I don’t he says, “I’m aware.”

“Then, you’re also aware how this idea of us dating is crazy. You’re famous and I’m a mouse.”

He growls. “Say mouse one more time and I’m putting you over my knee and spanking you until you promise to never say the word again.”

I forget how to breathe. He wants to spank me? Would I be naked? Would he? Would he get me all excited and then— What is wrong with me? I don’t enjoy being spanked. I think.

No wondering about being spanked. I’m in the middle of work. In a library!

“What if I’m discussing an actual mouse Indigo’s devil cat chased around town? Can I say mouse then?”

“You’re just begging for me to bend you over my knee.” He growls and I melt. This is what those romance heroines mean when they say their entire body quivers with excitement.

“You are not a mouse. Whoever made you feel bad about yourself was jealous of you and lashing out about their own insecurities.”

“Now you’re a psychologist.”

He shrugs. “I enjoy reading. Being on the road in a tour bus for days on end gets boring.”

He’s adorable when he’s embarrassed. Gah! Can this man be less appealing, please?

“Yes, I’m a rockstar, but I’m also just a man. An ordinary man. I mean a gorgeous man but still a man who puts his pants on one leg at a time.”

“Unless you’re wearing a towel,” I mumble.

He grins. Darn it! Why did I open my mouth and basically confess to ogling him?

He reaches across the table to grasp my hand. “Fame isn’t real. You are. I am. Don’t let the fame stuff stop us from becoming something great.”

“Something great?”

“I always aim for the stars.” He squeezes my hand. “Let’s take it day by day. Whenever you have a concern about my fame, we can discuss it.”

He’s good. Really good. And I’m being weak. Afraid he’ll run off on me because he’s famous and I’m a mou— librarian. I promised myself I wouldn’t be weak anymore when I left home. I promised I’d try new things. Not hold back.

“Okay. Day by day.”

“Day by day.”

He smiles and his dimple comes out. Alarm bells ring in my mind. It would be so easy to fall in love with this man.

“Now, the heavy’s done. How about I accompany you into the stacks where we pretend we’re teenagers and make out?”

He waggles his eyebrows and I giggle. He makes me feel like a teenager. But not a teenager who was bullied by her peers. One of those popular girls who was always getting caught in the library with some football player.

Those alarm bells are no longer ringing. No, they’re blaring as loud as they can. This man is a danger to my heart. But when those blue eyes and dimple are aimed at me, I find it hard to care.

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