Page 4 of Filthy Rock Stars

I grin, noting that he likes old sci-fi novels. “You want to see the park?”

“I drove us here, didn’t I?”

He has such a steady, controlled way of talking. Almost deadpan. It’s not sarcastic or mean, but it’s hard to read any emotion at all in the deep roll of his voice. His eyes, too. They captivate me, pools deep enough to give me vertigo, but I can’t make any sense of what emotions swirl there.

“What kind of sci-fi do you read?” I ask.

He eases into a half-smile. “I’ve been readingStar Trekbooks since I was a kid. No one in my family reads, but our neighbor, Mr. Alderson, he read theStar Trekbooks. I liked the TV show, so I asked when I saw him reading one, and after that he passed off the old novels to me. Since then, I don’t know. I read whatever. Stuff with aliens. Whatever I find at the airport.” His brow lifts, a devastatingly perfect arch as he smiles fully. “Does that earn me a tour of the park?”

I relent and smile back. “Over here,” I say with a nod. “You can see the water better. But tell me something more about you. What do you do for work?”

His smile falls. “Could we leave that out of it?”

“Your job?”

He rubs his hand over his short, poorly cut hair. “It would kill the magic,” he says, then starts walking in the direction I indicated.

I follow him, confused, but still keeping up.

He said we’ve got magic.

“That’s cryptic. Why don’t you want to tell me what you do? Are you something awful?”

“Maybe I’m a spy.”

“Maybe I won’t tell you what I do, either.”

He hums under his breath. “Mysterious strangers.”

I laugh. “Am I pulling that off?”

“You’ve got a secret project and a secret job so far. That’s something.”

We reach the spot where I pointed. Across from us, the water stretches out in one direction, and hillsides rise in the distance. Gray clouds pass over the setting sun, casting shadows, and the trees around us are bare.

It’s striking and moody and beautiful, like him.

“You’re cute,” the stranger says.

“Oh.” I’m surprised. “Thank you.”

We look at each other. The trees are shadowy around us, and the rest of the world has disappeared.

I haven’t done something like this… ever, actually. And now that I’m here, locking eyes with a stranger while the sun sinks toward the horizon, it’s hard to believe this is real.

“Well, you’re obviously very attractive yourself,” I tell him.

The man laughs and gives me a cocky smile. “Is it obvious? I’d never heard,” he says without a drip of irony, and I chuckle.

“If it helps, I don’t tell anyone about my project.” I become aware that my hands are awkward and shove them in my jacket pockets. “I do usually tell people about my job.”

“Spacesuit designer?”

“Not even close. Tattoo artist?”

“Nope.” He pulls off his leather jacket, revealing his inked-up arms, bright colors that swirl together. “I keep a guy in business, though.”

He stands without his jacket, modeling for me.

---