Page 25 of Hard Rock Desires
She went about beating the egg whites and sugar vigorously.
“Um. Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt.” A girl from one of the other stations had come up to me, twisting her hands together nervously. “You’re Zain Weston, aren’t you? From Until We Break?”
“Sure am,” I told her with a wink.
“Ohmigod.” Her eyes went wide and her breathing went shallow. “Really?”
I suppressed a chuckle. “Pretty sure, yeah.”
Fans really were everywhere. I knew my band was popular, but I was continually surprised at how often I ran into them. Sometimes, like today, it was one girl alone. Other times there were swarms of them, and I’d be stuck signing and taking selfies for what felt like hours. A few times I’d had to physically duck and run to get away from the hordes of ladies.
This time it was just a single girl, which was easy enough to manage. From the whispering I knew the other students were aware of who I was, but this one was the only one bold enough to actually approach me.
“Would you mind taking a selfie with me?” She had pulled out her phone from her student chef’s apron before I could answer.
“Of course, love,” I told her.
Grace tensed up next to me.
I let the dough sit as I washed off my hands. I took her phone and put my arms around her shoulder for a quick snap, then handed it back to her. She clutched her phone to her chest as if it were something dear and precious. Hell, maybe it was, now that it held a photo of the two of us. Some fans were like that.
“Is Matthew Finnley okay?” she asked worriedly. “I saw all those photos of him covered in blood. It was so scary!”
“He’s perfectly fine,” I reassured her. “It was just a scratch. It looked worse than it was.”
She let out a breath of relief.
“I really love your songs,” she gushed. “You guys are amazing. I have all your merch.” She looked down at herself. “I wish I was wearing one of your t-shirts right now.”
I flashed her a charming grin. “It’s okay, I believe you.”
She flushed and scurried back to her station. I went back to rolling.
“Is that a common occurrence?” Grace asked, whisking the meringue violently.
“It happens every so often,” I replied, downplaying it a little.
Grace already thought I was full of myself, and not without reason. She didn’t need to hear me admit that I had a massive fanbase just waiting to pounce on me. I could just imagine her retort.
“That was nice of you,” Grace said. “Some celebrities don’t like being approached by fans.”
“Are you kidding?” I replied. “Our fans are the only reason we got this far. We had so much support when we were indie that the big guys had to take notice of us. Until We Break wouldn’t be what it is today without legions of fans.”
“Legions, is it?” she asked, amused.
“I’m trying not to brag,” I said. “I could have said millions.”
“Maybe you do know what modesty is, after all.”
She put down the bowl and dipped a small spoon into the mixture. Her pink tongue darted out, swiping at the meringue. She closed her eyes and hummed.
My eyes zeroed in on her mouth as she licked a line along her bottom lip. Damn, but those lips looked so fucking tempting.
“Hm.” She opened her eyes. “Needs a bit more lemon juice, I think.” She licked her lips one last time. “Can you pass me one of the wedges?”
I could just imagine how it would feel to sink my teeth into that soft flesh, to flick open that mouth with my tongue, to hear her moan and melt against me.
“Zain?” she prompted. “The lemon wedge?”
