Kind of Famous (Flirting with Fame Book 3) Read online

  “Yes. I’ll just be a minute.”

  I gave myself a lightning fast makeover. Slightly dramatic eyeliner, subtle foundation, a bit of cheek shading, and a lip color that worked well against my bright hair. I surveyed my work and decided it was the best I could do on short notice.

  And then, I took care of nature. The tail end of my period didn’t require ShamWow! levels of absorbency, but I was spotting, so I made sure to load up with some backup protection. It reminded me to take today’s sugar pill from my birth control pack.

  “I’m ready,” I called as I went downstairs to wait.

  Five minutes later, Jo practically tumbled down and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go!”

  As the car rolled up, I asked, “So, where is it we’re going?”

  “It’s not that far. Just over in Brooklyn Heights.”

  Before I could ask anything more, she picked up her phone. “We’re heading over now. Can you meet us?” Pause. “Love you, too.”

  She hung up. “Micah’s been rehearsing since noon.”

  “It must be nice when he’s home, though.”

  “Oh, yeah. I never thought I’d get involved with someone who’s never around. We make it work. There’s video chat, and I join him when I can. We definitely cherish the few times the fates convene so we’re all in town at the same time.”

  I wanted to ask what she meant by “all,” but she said, “It’s just up here,” and unfastened her seatbelt. The car halted in front of a building similar to the one she lived in. We climbed the steps, and Jo knocked once, then just opened the door. “Hello?”

  “We’re back here!” called a voice.

  We followed it through a living room into a kitchen that opened onto a backyard. An older woman sat at the kitchen table with a baby asleep on her lap. “Shhh!” she somehow yelled.

  Jo leaned down and whispered, “Hello, Joshua. How’s my good boy?”

  The woman said, “Fussy. He just fell asleep. If Eden would quiet down.”

  Eden?

  Micah came in from the back patio, kissed Jo, laid a hand on my shoulder with a “Hey, Layla,” and disappeared into the house.

  Jo waved me through the sliding door onto a deck to where Shane stood in the yard, hammering what looked like croquet hoops. Before I could drink him in, Eden stood and put a hand on her hip. “No, I think they’re supposed to be farther apart.”

  I whipped my head to the patio table where I discovered a black man with a killer afro holding hands with a Latino man with short-cropped hair. When the latter glanced up at me, I felt like I’d seen him somewhere before. He smiled, and I blinked at the intensity of him just sitting still. He might have been an actor. Another movement caught my eye, and I looked left.

  There, at the grill, stood Adam motherfucking Copeland.

  The oxygen expelled from my lungs, and I forgot how to get it back. The entire diorama caused my brain to blow a fuse.

  Jo stepped beside me and touched my arm. “Guys, I’d like you to meet Layla Beckett. She’s just started working at the Rock Paper with me.” She took one look at me and laughed. “By the expression on your face, I guess I don’t have to tell you this is Adam Copeland and Eden Sinclair.” She stage whispered, “It’s okay to be starstruck at first.”

  Adam smiled. At me. “Nice to meet you. Layla, is it?”

  I nodded like an idiot. Shane dropped the croquet mallet and waved.

  Jo said, “You already know Shane.”

  The baby made a fussing sound, and Eden said, “Excuse me,” and ran in.

  Jo gestured after her. “That’s little Joshua. And Eden’s mom, Peg.”

  Peg emerged from the kitchen, patting her hair into place. Inside, Eden sat with the baby latching on.

  I focused on this ordinary activity so I could breathe and gather my composure until I realized I was ogling Eden breastfeeding her child.

  Jo nudged me out of my stupor. “These are our friends Zion and Andrew.”

  I raised a hand and said, “Nice to meet—”

  Right then, out of all possible moments, my phone rang out a riff from Walking Disaster’s very first radio hit clear as day.

  I snatched it from my purse and silenced it. When I looked up, every pair of eyes locked on me, like the enemy had breached the fortress.

  I could explain. I could tell the truth.

  “It’s my friend, Ashley. She’s a huge fan of yours.”

  Adam flipped over a burger. “Your friend is, huh?”

  Then it occurred to me that I’d stepped in a giant turd sandwich with that excuse. “I mean, I am, too. Of course.”

  He chuckled. “I’m just messing with you. If you want to give her a call, I’d be happy to tell her hi.”

  “You’d do that?”

  Good Lord. She’d love me forever.

  “Of course.” His eyes actually sparkled. “Where would I be without fans?”

  But I couldn’t let him call her. If he talked to her, there was no way I could keep her from posting that on the forum. I wouldn’t have time to explain to her why she couldn’t. And there was no way she’d be able to contain that geyser of information.

  She’d kill me if she knew I was even considering telling Adam no.

  What if he was calling my bluff? What if he thought I’d made her up to hide my own lurking fandom?

  I could prove I wasn’t lying if he called her. Problem solved.

  But Ash would blow my cover. Problem not solved.

  Fuck.

  She was going to kill me.

  “That’s really cool of you, but she’s at work right now. That’s why she’s texting.”

  His eyebrows quirked for a split second, but just as fast, he flashed his blindingly beautiful smile which nearly caused me to swoon. “It’s okay. Maybe later. Like I said, it’s fun to connect with real fans.” Maybe it was my imagination, but he seemed to laugh at that.

  Then, thank God, Shane bounded up the steps and rescued me from my one-woman festival of foolishness.

  “Hey, Layla.” He held out his arm for a side hug, and it was the most comforting gesture he could have made.

  When I reached around his back to return the squeeze, I got a good sense of how muscular he was. It was like hugging a rock. A cuddly rock. It shouldn’t have surprised me, given how physical drumming was, especially for the upper arms and back. I’d seen pictures of sweat flying off his hair in a dramatic arc as he attacked the set but now regretted never encountering any shirtless pics.

  He drew back almost reluctantly, and I tried to take a gander at the tattoo snaking up his tricep into his sleeve without creeping him out. Self-conscious of my lecherous interest in his muscles, I cast around to look at anything else, but my gaze fell right back on Adam, and I felt like I’d fallen into a Dr. Seuss book. Nothing made sense, and I couldn’t process it at all.

  Adam flipped the burgers while telling Peg, “I think the Huggies fit tighter than the Pampers, though.”

  I forced myself to look toward the sliding door as Micah stepped through, yelling back in the house, “Why exactly did you bring over Mom’s croquet set?”

  Eden stuck out her tongue and slid the door closed with her foot.

  Shane inched closer. “It’s great to see you again.”

  My head turned toward him, the only part of my body following the proper script. I nodded in response, but I’d barely registered the question, and as soon as my eyes made the circuit back to him, they drifted right back over to Adam. Adam Copeland, grilling in his backyard. Adam Copeland, talking about diapers. He wore short sleeves, and I could see the beginnings of his Zoso tattoo on one shoulder. When Peg moved away, he hummed a little tune to himself, with a satisfied little grin on his face.

  “I felt the same way as you the first time I met him.”

  I twisted back to look at Shane
for real. “Huh?”

  “Adam.” He raised his hand, and Adam glanced at us, but he didn’t acknowledge that we stood a couple of feet away, openly discussing him. “Before we went on tour, Adam came out to hear us perform. I’m glad nobody told us he was there until after or I might have blown the whole set.”

  “And then?”

  His eyes narrowed against the setting sun, and his long lashes burned in gold and orange. “He came over and introduced himself as if we didn’t already know who he was. Did you know Adam used to be a drummer?”

  The nonsequitur threw me. I swallowed. Yes. I knew that. Was that something I shouldn’t have known? I just nodded like I was listening, not like I was admitting to arcane trivia.

  “Well, he was. And even though we’re both musicians, even though we both have drumming in common, I couldn’t think of a word to say to him.”

  Adam spoke up. “That’s not how I remember it.”

  Shane shrugged one shoulder. “True. I’m a chatterbox, but I was still nervous. So, you know. It’s okay. You could ask him for a picture if you wanted to be a fan for the night. Nobody will think less of you.”

  I loved that he’d chosen to acknowledge the weirdness of the situation rather than profess something trite like Adam’s just an ordinary person. I mean, duh, but that’s a bit like saying a million-dollar mansion is just a house. It helped a lot that everyone here understood, and I felt myself relaxing thanks to Shane’s candid confession.

  As for the picture. “Thanks. I’m good.” What would be the point? I couldn’t share it on the forum. Was I going to make it my screen saver? Or print it out and hang it on my wall? Maybe I could recover some cool points by declining the photo opp. I had no idea. These were uncharted waters.

  To change the topic, I asked, “Where’s Noah tonight?”

  Shane’s goofy grin faltered. “Oh, I, uh, told Micah not to invite him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

  I snorted. “Why did you do that?”

  His shoulders drooped an inch. “I didn’t want the competition.”

  A shiver skittered down my spine. Did he mean what it sounded like? That blush started to creep up his neck, and I figured he must. “I don’t know what you mean,” I lied. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

  His eyes shot up and locked onto mine, and that charming little smile melted my heart. His lips were even prettier than Gabriel’s, prettier than Noah’s. His blue eyes were framed in a fan of those gorgeous eyelashes, and he had the smoothest, freckly skin. My breath caught. Was he thinking what I wanted him to be thinking?

  He stepped a bit closer and said, “So, maybe—”

  My heart tripped.

  “Jo?” Zion stood and laid a hand on Jo’s shoulder. While Shane and I were flirting right beside her, she’d slumped forward with her head in her hands.

  Micah crossed the deck in two steps, kneeling at her feet. He called in a voice both controlled and urgent. “Eden?”

  “On it,” she hollered from inside. She came out two seconds later with the baby cradled in one arm, a bag slung over her shoulder, and a juice box in one hand. She handed the baby to her mom, the bag to Micah, and the juice box to Jo in one smooth series of moves. The juice box disappeared under Jo’s mass of hair spiraling down around her bent head. Micah slipped out a device and punctured one of her fingers.

  Adam brushed past me and laid a plate on the table next to Jo. “I think she was angling for the first hamburger. Congrats, it’s all yours.” His joke was tinged with obvious concern, and he didn’t move until Micah nodded.

  “She’s fine. It’s just low.” Micah rubbed her arm. “What happened?”

  Jo sat up and reached over to pinch off a hunk of hamburger bun. She popped it in her mouth and talked while she chewed. “Just didn’t remember to eat.”

  “Since when?”

  “Earlier. I got to working on my portfolio. It got late, and then we were coming here anyway, so I pushed it.”

  Micah still knelt before her, holding her hand gently, but his tone bordered on angry. “Are we going to have to go back to setting an alarm?”

  “No, Micah. I’m fine.” She picked up the hamburger, shaking it at him like proof, and then nibbled at it.

  “This time, yeah.” He exhaled in apparent relief. “Why don’t you come lie down for a bit?”

  “What? And miss the croquet?”

  Eden said, “If you want to go back home, I understand.”

  Jo looked to Micah for some telepathic advice. Then she shot me a glance. “No, we just got here, and Layla surely wants to stay.”

  I started to tell her not to worry about me. I mean, I owed her so much for everything she’d done, and besides, I didn’t belong at this party.

  Shane broke in. “I can get her back to your place.” Six heads swiveled his way. “If you need to leave, I mean.”

  “Layla?” Jo laid the decision at my feet.

  Oh, Layla, would you like to climb into a town car and be shuttled back to hang out with Micah Sinclair and Josie Wilder? Or would you like to stay at a party in Adam Copeland’s backyard with a cute red-haired boy with incredible blue eyes?

  If anyone had told me either of these options would have been available to me tonight, I would have told them they were writing fan fiction.

  I glanced at Shane, and he met my gaze with such intensity, I forgot for a second what the question was. I took a step toward him, relishing how the corner of his lips rose. If I stayed here, I could coax out a full smile.

  “Layla?” Jo touched my hand, and I remembered that she was my hostess. I should do what she needed.

  “Whatever’s easiest.”

  Wrong answer. Jo pursed her lips. “Are you fine with Shane bringing you home?”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course.” I clenched my fists tight. Could this be my life?

  “Good. I’m sorry to abandon you like this, but you’ll be in good hands.” She stood with Micah supporting her elbow. “Don’t hesitate to knock when you come back. Micah will be up no matter when.”

  They gathered their things and left me standing with total strangers that I knew way too much about.

  Talking Disaster Forum

  Topic: Other Bands - Eden Sinclair - General Conversation - Page 312

  Lore wrote:

  Has anyone noticed this picture in the DailyFeed of Eden out with baby Joshua? Is it my imagination, or is the little stuffed monkey tucked in with the baby the one we sent in the basket?

  DeadFan wrote:

  Oooh. I think you may be right! Here’s a picture of the basket we shipped.

  PeaceAndLove wrote:

  It’s gross how you guys fawn over that whore.

  RobinHood wrote:

  Whoa. Look what the cat threw up. Think you can sneak in here because Pumpkin’s been occupied?

  PeaceAndLove wrote:

  You know Eden’s the reason the new album isn’t getting good reviews.

  Nefertiti wrote:

  PandL’s right. Eden’s the band’s Yoko Ono. It’s only a matter of time before she ruins everything.

  RobinHood wrote:

  Oh, hello, @Nefertiti. Back to share your bullshit stories about sleeping with Adam?

  Nefertiti wrote:

  I gave him a better night than he’s had in a long time stuck with that train wreck that trapped him.

  DeadFan wrote:

  You guys. Do you want me to lock the thread?

  PeaceAndLove wrote:

  Sure @DeadFan. You scare the shit out of me.

  Pumpkin39 wrote:

  I’m giving you two options. 1) Follow the rules of the forum and respect everyone including my posters, the musicians, AND their significant others. Or 2) Leave. If you go for some third option, believe me I’ll delete your accounts and block your IP.

&nbs
p; Chapter Seven

  Once the chaos of Micah and Jo leaving subsided, I asked Eden to point me to the bathroom, mainly as a pretext to check my texts, though I also wanted to take care of my lady linens. Sitting on the toilet, I read Ash’s message. It was unintelligible, so as soon as I flushed, I dialed her.

  “Hey, Ash. What’s going on?”

  As usual, she spilled it all out without taking a breath. “Some old trolls hijacked an archived thread and started saying major shit about Eden. I don’t want to lock it because everything that was there before is innocuous. What do you want me to do?”

  I sighed. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “Can you at least take a look?”

  Crap. “Sure.”

  “Thank you.” She paused a beat, then with renewed excitement. “Oh, and I just saw your text from before. Who’d you meet?”

  There was no possible way I could drop any of this on her and still escape this bathroom in any reasonable time. And as I didn’t want anyone to suspect I had a bad case of the runs, I told the smallest truth. “That reviewer, Gabriel Sanchez.”

  “Oh, right.” She sounded disappointed. “But that was kind of to be expected, right? I mean, eventually, you’d have to run into him.”

  “True.” I zipped up my purse. “I need to go. I promise I’ll look into this as soon as I can, okay?”

  “Thanks, Layla.”

  I took a deep breath and held it. It was entirely frustrating that my one night in the vicinity of these ridiculously out-of-reach people would be ruined by my ridiculously out-of-touch hobby.

  When I stepped back into the kitchen, Eden sat at the table, bouncing the sleeping baby gently in one arm while she tapped on her laptop one-handed. She bent to lay Joshua in the car seat, then stood. “I’m sorry. In all the chaos, I never asked you if you’d like a drink. You wanna come help yourself?”

  “Sure.” I followed her around to the refrigerator which was crowded with beer bottles. I grabbed a Stella. “I hope you don’t think it’s rude, but I need to check something on my phone real quick.”

  “Of course. Make yourself at home.”