Page 57 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

“You okay?” Dale murmured.

I swallowed and nodded, but I didn’t know anymore. Tyler Vincent was there, right in front of me, the man of my dreams. I should have been screaming and crazy and swooning like the rest of the girls in the theater, but I could barely keep my eyes on the screen, let alone my mind or anything else.

All I could think about was the guy sitting next to me, wondering how had I lost my way in such a short amount of time.

I pulled into the parking lot of our apartment complex, killing the lights and cutting the engine. It was full dark and far too late—Aimee and Matt had insisted on going out to TGIFridays after the movie for something to eat, and we’d stayed talking and drinking Cokes and eating mozzarella sticks until I noticed it was after midnight and told Dale I had to get home or I might turn into a pumpkin.

I made a joke out of it but Aimee gave me a worried look when I mentioned it and she noticed the time. She knew as well as I did—the stepbeast didn’t allow me to go on dates, at least not while I was living in his house, and I had to make up all sorts of excuses to be out that didn’t include boys. My entire relationship with David had been a great big secret, and Aimee had spent most of our junior year covering for me.

“So Cinderella, did you have a good time at the ball?” Dale turned toward me in the darkness, the only sound the ticking of the car’s cooling engine.

“Yes, thanks.” I glanced down at the heels I was wearing. My feet were killing me, but the look on his face had been worth it. “Although Cinderella has to return her glass slippers to her fairy godmother in the morning.”

“They seem to be getting on pretty good,” he said, and I knew he was referring to Aimee and Matt. I’d been surprised how familiar the two of them had been all night long, lots of public displays of affection.

I glanced at my watch. “Aimee’s mom’s at some law conference. She won’t be home all weekend. I imagine they’re getting it on right about now.”

“That’s not what I meant… but you’re probably right.” Dale laughed. I felt his hand brush mine in the darkness. I’d been anticipating it, waiting and hoping for it, and still, it made my breath catch. “Too bad we don’t have a place to be alone.”

“There’s always the back seat.” I was only half kidding, my eyes skipping to the roomy bench seat just a few feet away. Dale followed my gaze, looking tempted, almost as tempted as I was, even if we were parked right in front of the apartment building at one in the morning. The light in our apartment was off, which was a good sign. The stepbeast had probably been drinking all night—typical for a Saturday. Likely he was passed out in the chair. My mother usually just covered him up and left him there until morning.

“Come on.” I leaned into him and he slipped his arms around me, our breath so warm on the cool September night it was already fogging the windows. “Let’s do it.”

o;Even for me?” I teased.

He gave me a wry look, eyebrows raised. “Maybe for you.”

His response filled me with warmth. So did the touch of his thigh on mine, denim against denim, and I could have sworn he was sitting that way, legs sprawled out, just for that reason. The theater was filling up, but it was opening weekend, so I wasn’t surprised. Three girls as across the aisle from us and I did a double-take, noticing one of the was Holly Larson from our chemistry class. She gave Dale an appreciative look and a wave and he waved back.

“Open.” Dale turned to me, a piece of popcorn aimed at my mouth.

I obeyed, sticking out my tongue, and he threw the popped kernel with perfect accuracy. It landed right in the middle of my tongue. I pulled it in, chewing and laughing.

“I bet you can’t do that again.”

“Is that a challenge?” He raised his eyebrows, picking out another piece of popcorn. “Open.”

I opened my mouth, waiting. He aimed again but I made it harder this time, not sticking out my tongue, and the piece hit my chin, bouncing off. I glanced down and saw it stuck right in the V of the Black Diamond t-shirt.

“Want me to get that?” he offered, grinning.

I rolled my eyes, picking the popcorn out of my cleavage and, instead of eating it myself, leaning over and pressing it to his lips. Dale opened his mouth, taking it gently, his eyes flashing, devilish. It made my belly clench in response and my breath quicken. Damn he was sexy.

And I wasn’t the only one who noticed. The three girls—Holly Larson included—were loud, giggling and squealing, likely about the movie and Tyler’s appearance in it, but I saw the Holly kept looking over at Dale, watching him digging through the tub of popcorn.

I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t look now, but I think they’re talking about you.”

“Holly Larson?” He glanced in their direction. “She’s in my English class. Did you know she had to give up her baby last year? She didn’t even have a choice. Her parents forced her.”

“I heard rumors.” I took a sweet drink of Coke to wash down my own bitterness, refusing to look over in her direction.

“Hey, Mr. Rockstar, can I have your autograph so I can say I knew you when?”

We both looked up, seeing Holly Larson herself standing next to Dale. Her smile was all for him. She didn’t even look at me.

“Sorry I don’t have a pen,” he apologized with a shrug, glancing at me.

“Here.” She produced a black pen from her purse. “I saw your show. You were so good.”

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