Page 15 of Worth the Trouble

And that’s when it hits me. Eloise’s little house guest. The dancer renting out her place.Off limits, if I remember correctly.

I can’t help but grin at the challenge.

5

Lili

Ofallthedays.

Of all the people.

It would figure I’d be standing on the side of the road staring athim.

Rome Moreno.

Yes, I’d googled him after our literal run-in the other day. And while I expected him to be trouble from that interaction alone, I wasn’t prepared for everything that popped up on the screen when I typed his name in.

He’s famous to the point that I now understand why he seemed surprised I didn’t know who he was. But I live under a rock and have my whole life, so I’ve never heard of him or his band, Enemy Muse.

Not that it’s a bad thing, apparently. From everything I’ve read, Rome is trouble. Reckless, wild, sleeping his way through the female population. It would be gross if it didn’t make me feel a little sad for him. Because while I’m sure he enjoys himself, I get the impression that’s not the only reason he puts on this endless show of not giving a shit.

“You’re the dancer renting Eloise’s house.” Rome smiles.

Eloise Kane.

Another thing I learned when I was stalking him online. Apparently, the woman who is renting her house out to me is a member of his band.

I nod and Rome smiles, sending a shiver down the full length of my spine. And once again, I can’t tell whether it’s because he’s standing this close or if my body senses the danger that I assume follows him.

“Guess that makes us neighbors then.” He winks, once more shooting me his blinding grin.

“Neighbors?” I purposely picked a house in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t even know I had neighbors.

“Her property backs up to mine, as luck would have it,” Rome says.

“Not sure that’s what I’d call it.”

The universe must be messing with me. I’m in Denver preparing for the biggest show of my career, the last thing I need is Rome Moreno that close to my doorstep. Not that it should matter. If anything I read is true, he’s never had a shortage of women chasing after him, so why would my doorstep matter to him?

My phone pings, and I frown when I look at the screen. Wonderful, my mom is already at the gala and is wondering where I am.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Rome looks down at my screen.

“Are you going to continue calling me that?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Probably.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling the familiar throbbing already settling in between my temples. Mom won’t care that I’m running late because my car broke down. She’ll just use it as another reason on her endless list of why I should be staying in the city with her instead.

Even in my head, I sound like a teenager being pushed around by my parents. It’s embarrassing.

“I’m running late, and the tow is still thirty minutes out,” I say reluctantly.

As much as I would rather have the help of anyone other than a tattooed rock god, he’s all I’ve got in this moment. Besides, my mom’s wrath is worse than dealing with Rome.

I think.

“I’d be happy to offer my services.” Rome bites the corner of his lip and gives me a once-over.

---