Page 36 of Starstruck
Because she’s in every single part of me, and she has no idea.
I know she feels more for me, too. No one can have a night like we did and ignore the chemistry. But she’ll never admit it. She’s made it clear that it was just one night for her.
And that’s all it should be for me, too. I don’t feel this way about anyone, let alone women. Something about this one just keeps me coming back for more.
I doubt she knows how much I’ve changed in the past few months. Since the accident and even more so since the trial, I’ve stayed out of the public eye as much as possible. I haven’t been caught drinking. I’ve had no run-ins with the paparazzi. I haven’t been seen publicly with any other women.
But I can’t blame her for not wanting someone who has a bad history of drunken encounters attached to a benefit concert that’s raising money to stop drunk drivers. My mom may have also been killed by a drunk driver, but the public doesn’t know that. And though I’ve never been one to drive drunk myself because of that, I’ve still made some questionable choices under the influence of alcohol that could look bad in relation to a cause like this.
It’s probably for the best anyway, seeing as the more time I spend around her, the guiltier I feel about knowing what I do about the accident that got her parents killed.
And I hate feeling guilty.
So instead I joke, “You didn’t seem to mind my reputation when youwerethe trouble following me home.”
With an eye roll, she grits out, “That,” as she points at me. “That right there is why I don’t want you at my concert. This cause may be personal to you, too, but you don’t take anything seriously. The night we spent together was fun, but it was onenight. You’re still you, and I’m still me. This is a big deal, and it’s for my parents. I can’t have you fucking it up.”
I clench my jaw, swallowing. I knew my reputation would come back to bite me someday, I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much when it did.
“Just…go. Please.” She turns her back to me. “I have to get back to work.”
“Fine,” I croak. Pretending she didn’t just rip me to shreds with her words, I add, “But you’ll change your mind.”
And though I don’t say it, I’ll be here waiting when she does.
[14 ]
RESIST TEMPTATION
LENNON
“STAY AWAY” BY THE HONORARY TITLE
Icould’ve been nicer.
I really didn’t even mean to be such a bitch, and if I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t mean half of what I said. I was just shocked to find Jeremy ambushing me with Baxter. When I saw him, all my defenses went up, and the truth is better left unsaid. I’m sure he would be a great headliner, and I feel guilty knowing his mom was also killed by a drunk driver. But that doesn’t change the gut feeling that including him would only lead to trouble.
Still, I could’ve been nicer.
Everything I heard about Baxter before we met was that he’s a stuck-up asshole who only cares about himself. And sure, he may be slightly full of himself, and he can be selfish, but can’t everyone? He’s been nothing but friendly to me—maybe eventoofriendly sometimes—even when I’m an absolute bitch to him.
My shoulders drop as I enter my office, replaying the look on his face when I insinuated that having him there would fuck up everything. He looked genuinely hurt, and I can’t decide ifhe was playing me or if my words really did have an impact on him.
Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a good choice for this concert. My reasons for thinking that may be purely selfish at this point, but I’m in too vulnerable a state to risk getting close to him when I know that would only end badly.
“God, why does this have to be so complicated?” I grumble to myself as I stare blankly at the list of names in front of me. At the very least, I can try to schedule some other acts, even if I still don’t have a headliner.
I pull up the schedule, re-examining who I already have. I’ve secured a good mix of genres, and I’d like to keep it that way, so on the master list of names I put a star next to anyone who would be a good fit for the show.
I only need four more performers aside from the headliner. I’m still waiting to hear back from some of the managers I’ve reached out to, so I have quite a few acts with a question mark beside them. Deciding my best option right now would be to follow-up on those, I make some calls, hoping at least one of them will agree.
I dial the number for Sage Whitman’s manager and put the phone to my ear. The dial tone rings a few times before someone finally answers.
“Harrison Lark.”
“Hi, Harrison. This is Lennon Thorne from Revolution Records calling. I just wanted to follow-up about my request to have Sage Whitman perform at my benefit concert in August.”
“Ah, Lennon! So sorry I haven’t gotten back to you sooner—I’ve been dealing with a nightmare client, and it slipped my mind.” He pauses, exhaling. “I spoke with Sage, and she said she would be happy to do the show. You said it’s the twenty-fourth, right?”
