Page 19 of Lucky Dr & the Rockstar Next Door

Kayla licked her lips and smiled. “Well, you see, some come from trees and others from bushes. They’re grown all over the world.”

“Thanks for that, Dr. Smart Ass.” I shook my head, still smiling as we took our seats and dug into the omelets. “This recipe, this exact one, is what I pretty much lived on in the early days of Lancaster. Rox always had a hot plate on the bus and made them for lunch and dinner almost every day.”

Her pretty eyes widened. “Every day,” she sighed. “The cholesterol.”

“Listen, Doc, I saidalmostevery day.” I shrugged. “It was cheap and something we could eat quickly on the way to a gig, which we almost always were.”

“You miss those days, just a little.” It wasn’t a question, but an observation delivered with a small smile.

“In a way, yes. All of us and our equipment crammed onto a bus where we ate, shit, and slept—lived whenever we weren’t playing; it was a chaotic mess. But without that, we wouldn’t appreciate all that we have now. Plus, those were some damn good times.”

Her smile was radiant. “Omelets and rock songs—sounds like a country song,” she laughed, finishing off her omelet. “Thank you, Mac; that was incredible.”

My phone rang, and when I saw the name and face on the screen, I smiled before answering the call on speakerphone. “Hey Rox, the omelet was a hit.”

Rox was silent for a heartbeat. “Is your girl really a doctor? She’s hot as fuck, no offense, babe. What’s in the water in Holiday Grove?”

I looked at Kayla and found her blushing furiously. “There does seem to be a high number of beautiful women here, but wait, how in the hell do you know? Did your woman internet stalk her?”

“What? Fuck no. If she has time to do that, we’re naked and having fun.” He let out a soft chuckle. “How do you not know these things, Mac? Shit, man, I have alerts set for all of us.”

I groaned. “I try to ignore the press as much as possible when we’re not promoting an album or a tour.”

“Oh no, it’s so hard being a super sexy rock star,” Rox groaned in what was supposed to be an impression of me. “Front man problems,” he snorted.

“Rox, what the hell are you talking about? How did you see Kayla?”

“Easy,” he snorted. “There are photos of you guys together. Somewhere in the mountains, with your shirt off because you’re allergic to ‘em,” he laughed at the tired joke. “You’re running together, smiling at each other like you spent all night in the land of orgasms. There’s another of you standing on her doorstep looking like you’re about to devour one another. It’s hot as fuck.”

Shit. I risked a look at Kayla, whose smile faded. “Thanks for letting me know, Rox.”

“You better tell her; she needs to know.”

Kayla’s eyes slammed shut. “She already does, thanks.”

“Shit, sorry brother. The photos are great, but it means there’s a photographer following you around. Be careful.”

Two words that definitely did not describe me. “Well now I fuckin’ have to, don’t I?” I ended the call, and Kayla and I sat in silence for a long time. She wasn’t glaring at me, so I took that as a win. Who in the hell could’ve possibly followed me to Holiday Grove? “Any ideas?”

She shook her head. “It could be anyone. I mean, tabloids will buy photos from anyone and pay good money for someone like you, right?”

“I thought I’d be safe from that shit here.” I swallowed my now cold coffee. “How pissed are you?” This was it, the moment Kayla would tell me to piss off. Most women would love being linked to me in the press, not Kayla.

She studied me for a long time, head tilted slightly. “At you? Not at all. I knew who you were, Mac, and I can’t blame you. But I’m really pissed that someone violated such private moments.” She shook her head, lips tugged into an angry flat line. “So much for that.”

And that was just another reason I couldn’t get enough of her. “You never say what I think you’re going to.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes.” She smiled, and I couldn’t help but smile in return.

“You do that, Doc. Damn well too.” Even with the press onto us, I wouldn’t give her up.

10KAYLA

I’m famous. Not for the lives I’ve saved. Not for the hard work I’ve done to become a damn good doctor. Not even because Isavedsomeone famous, important, or influential. Nope, I’m famous because I’m sleeping with someone famous.Ain’t that just a slap in the face?

I felt like every underappreciated woman throughout history, famous not for my own accomplishments but because I was close to someone else who’d achieved a lot. I couldn’t even be mad at Mac because it wasn’t his fault; this was his life, and a part of it he seemed to really dislike. So I was just mad, with nowhere to aim that anger. Still, I had a job to do, so I plastered on a smile and kept my head down as I went about my workday.

That was easier said than done since all of Holiday Grove was talking about those photos. Several older residents came into the ER with feigned problems just to ask questions about me and my “rockstar beau,” as he was now known. I got it; I really did. As soon as Mac had left my place, I pulled up the photos and stared at them for far too long.

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