Page 32 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

He leaned sideways to say something to Holly, but his eyes never left mine and I couldn’t look away. Wendy grabbed my knee under the table, shaking it wildly, her eyes big as she watched him approach, but even that couldn’t distract me. His walk was casual, hands in his jeans pockets, but his eyes had that same look I’d seen when they found me that first day in chemistry, like an animal targeting its prey.

“Oh wow, Sara, he really likes you.” Wendy leaned in to whisper this fact and I was grateful for the reassurance, because I thought maybe I was seeing things, or I’d just gone a little crazy because of my Tyler Vincent obsession and his obvious resemblance. It was good to know I wasn’t the only one who saw the way his eyes lit up when they found me, how his energy and focus shifted from something casual to something that went far beyond interest. It was more like a hunger, and it made me hungry too.

“Hey you.” His voice brought back our weekend phone conversations, whispering together in the middle of the night. He looked at me like there was no one else there, as if every girl, every other person, had simply disappeared the moment he set eyes on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Holly Larson pass our table, felt the jealousy and hatred directed at me, but it was nothing like the heat of Dale’s gaze. I felt instantly combustible. If I’d been a popcorn kernel, I would have exploded the minute he looked at me.

“You must be the infamous Dale Diamond,” Carrie announced, pulling a chair over from another table and sliding it between us. “Is that a real name? Have a seat.”

“Hi.” Dale turned the chair around, sitting astride it beside me, his knee brushing mine. “Yeah, Dale Diamond’s my real name. Easy to make fun of. I got called Double-D in junior high. I’m just glad my mother didn’t name me Neil.”

Aimee laughed. “My mother loves Neil Diamond.”

“So do a lot of older women, I hear.” He smiled at her. “Aimee, right?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you.” She looked far too pleased he’d guessed right.

“And you must be Carrie and Wendy.” He glanced between the two of them, speculative. “Carrie?” He pointed, guessing right again. “And Wendy?”

Wendy raised her pierced eyebrow, squirting ketchup from a packet all over her fries. “Do our reputations precede us?”

o;Don’t be too long,” my stepfather said gruffly and then the line was clear again.

“Was that your dad?”

“My stepdad. Don’t ask. So, what’s up?”

“Not much. I was just sitting here playing my guitar and thinking about you.” He paused and his words melted me like butter in a hot pan. I sank down onto my bed, knowing if he asked me right then if I’d been thinking about him too, I would tell him yes, and it would be the truth. Thankfully, he didn’t ask. “So, what are you doing?”

“Painting.” I set my brush down, stretching out on my bed.

“Like… painting your room?”

I laughed. “No. Painting a picture.”

“Oh, that’s right, the sketches in your notebook. You’re very good.”

“Thanks.” I blushed at the compliment.

“Although your subject matter leaves a little to be desired,” he teased. I could hear the smile in his voice. Normally, when someone dissed Tyler Vincent, I was all over that like white on Vanilla Ice but for some reason, his teasing felt different. Or maybe I was just making an exception because he looked so damned much like my favorite rock star and my body couldn’t seem to tell the difference. The temperature in my room had risen since the phone rang and I discovered it was Dale.

I heard him strumming his guitar. “So what about you? Are you good?”

“I can’t even draw stick figures.”

I laughed. “No, are you a good musician?”

“Yes.”

I smiled. “You sound confident.”

“I am.”

“So we should all see your name in lights soon then?” I teased.

“Oh being good doesn’t have anything to do with being a star.”

I snorted. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t need talent to be a rock star. Look at Tyler Vincent.”

---