Star Struck (6 page)

7

Star

I’m late like always. I pull up to Beckett’s house ten minutes after seven, my heart beating erratically in my chest. Despite how hard I tried to be on time, I just couldn’t get it together.
Story of my life
. After cutting the engine, I yank my purse off the passenger seat and jump out of the car. The garage door is already open, so I walk toward it pushing a few loose strands of hair from my face. Ryker stands clustered with the other two guys in the band, while Beckett fiddles with one of the amps. The minute I step inside, Ryker glances up at me with a smile.

“You made it.” He motion
s me over. As I move toward him I glance over at Beckett, but he is still busy with his task. I try not to feel disappointed that Ryker seems to be more excited about my presence than Beckett. “Star, this is Jimmy, our drummer.”

I smile at the tall, lanky guy with long dark hair, and he grins back.

“And this is Pierce, our electric guitar player.”

“You were awesome the other night.” Pierce smiles, his floppy hair bouncing arou
nd his face, reminding me of a puppy with long ears.

“Thanks.” I’m grateful for the compliment, and start to relax a little.

“Are we gonna stand around yapping like a bunch of girls all night or get to work?” Beckett barks, and my shoulders stiffen.

Ryker gives
me an apologetic look while the other guys grumble. I press my lips together and turn around, annoyed with Beckett for his grumpy attitude. Would it really kill the guy to be friendly every once in awhile? From my few encounters with him I can tell that his social skills are seriously lacking. The other guys scramble to their instruments, and the garage rumbles as the amps roar to life. As I head toward the keyboard, I make the mistake of peering over at Beckett. His head is bent down as he slips his guitar strap on. Today he wears a short sleeved shirt, exposing the intricate tattoos weaving his upper arm. As if he senses me staring, he lifts his head. I freeze, just as a slow smile spreads across his face.

“See something you like?” He drawls.

“No,” I sputter, my face turning so hot I fear I’ll melt my makeup. “Why?”

“I thought you were noticing my new guitar. It’s pretty slick, huh?” He smirks. “What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing.” I take a deep breath, and lower myself down onto the bench in front of the keyboard.
What the hell is wrong with me? I need to hold it together around this guy if I plan to be in this band very long.

“Okay, guys.” Beckett grins at me. “And girl. I have a new song I want us to try. If we can get the hang of it maybe we can add it to the roster for Saturday night’s gig. If not
, we’ll hold off for now.”

“Saturday night?” I ask meekly.

Beckett nods, tossing a couple of papers in my direction. “Yeah, we’re playing at the pub.”

I catch the sheets of paper before they flutter to the ground. “What pub?”

“Don’t worry,” Beckett says, turning back around and strumming once on his guitar. “We’ll talk details later. Right now, it’s time to play.”

I face forward, my eyes connecting with the papers in front of me. This must be the ne
w song Beckett wrote. A tiny wave of excitement pulses through me as I touch the keys, and the rest of the band swells behind me. The beat of the drums pulsate beneath my feet, causing my whole body to buzz. Beckett starts to sing in his husky voice, and chills brush over my skin. Just like everything I’ve heard the band play, the song has a haunting melody, the lyrics dark. I decide to try out the harmony on the chorus. Pressing my lips to the mic above the keyboard, I sing with Beckett.

I’m untouchable

Just out of reach

And I’m not able

To break free

It’s who I am

It’s me

Glancing over at Beckett, I wonder about his tortured lyrics. He always acts as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, but nobody writes song
s like his if they haven’t endured some kind of pain or neglect. Lifting my head a little, I stare at his face while he sings the next verse. His eyes are cast downward, his hands moving slowly and methodically over the guitar. Only I can tell that in his mind he is a million miles away. I find myself hoping that one day he’ll share his feelings with me. For some reason his need to be so mysterious and distant, only draws me to him more. When I hear the verse coming to a close, I force my head away from him and get ready to sing the chorus with him again.

When the practice ends, I gather up my sheet music and get ready to head home. The rush I feel from the last couple of hours hasn’t died down yet and it’s lik
e I’m floating above the ground as I make my way around the keyboard. I approach Beckett who is bent over his guitar.

“So, about that gig on Saturday night?” I ask,
while my shadow casts over his shoulder.

He peers up at me, his eyebrow raising. “Yeah, I’ll pick you up around six, okay?”

This catches me off guard, and I freeze. After swallowing hard, I find my voice, “Okay.”

“You live in the dorms, right?” He sets down his guitar, and stands to face me.

My heart beats frantically in my chest, and my palms fill with moisture. Since I can’t speak with him looking at me the way he is I just nod.

“My apartment is pretty close to the campus.” He runs a hand over his head. “So it makes sense just to swing by on my way to the pub. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

I nod again, wishing my mouth would move, but it’s like my lips are glued together all of the sudden.

He smirks
at my lack of response. “See ya then, Star.”

“Yeah,” I finally squeak out, and start to turn around.

“Oh, and Star?”

I whirl around to face him.

“Wear a little skirt or something on Saturday.” He grins.

My face heats up. “Excuse me?”

“Well, we already give the girls plenty of eye candy at our shows.” He gives me a knowing look that irritates me. “Why not offer something to the guys?”

I roll my eyes. Did he seriously just say tha
t?  “You’re a pig.”

“So is that a yes or no then on the skirt?” He looks confused.

I groan in frustration, and then I turn around to face the other band members. “Bye, guys. See you Saturday.”

They all wave in response.

“Hey, do you need a ride on Saturday?” Ryker asks, stepping toward me.

“No, I’ve got it, man
,” Beckett speaks from over my shoulder.

Ryker lifts his brows a little. My head is swirling from all the mixed signals. Before anyone can say anything else to me, I
race out of the garage clutching the sheet music to my chest. When I reach my car, I take a deep breath. I swear every time I’m with Beckett I feel like I’ve endured whiplash. One minute I’m swooning over him, the next I want to gouge his eyes out with a dull spoon. He’s so infuriating.

Despite my frustration at Beckett’s request, I actually do wear a skirt on Saturday night. It’s short too, and tight. I have no idea what possesses me to put it on. Once I catch my reflection in the mirror Lola and I have mounted to the door, I feel mortified. I won’t even be able to move on the stage without giving every guy in the audience a sneak peek. I’m about to take it off when Lola marches in.

“Wow, what are you wearing?”

My cheeks flush. “Nothing. I was just about to change.” I fiddle with the bottom of the skirt.

“Why? You look hot. Like a sexy rocker chick.” Lola runs a finger through her hair.

I move back over to the mirror and assess myself. The large silver hoop earrings peek out from underneath my straight brown hair, my eyes are lined in dark black eyeliner and shimmer shadow, and my lips are lightly glossed. Several bangle bracelets line my arm. I have on a white floaty top over my skirt, and my feet are encased in strappy sandals. I try to imagine Beckett’s reaction when he sees me in this, and it causes my heart to flip in my chest. He’s only ever seen me in jeans before. Glancing at the clock, I cringe. It’s already six. Beckett is probably already waiting outside.

“Okay.” I sigh. “I guess this is it then.”

“Ooh, this is so exciting,” Lola squeals. “Have fun. I’ll be there later to hear you perform.”

I nod, pressing my shiny lips together. Then I grab my purse and head out to meet Beckett.
Once my feet hit the parking lot pavement, I realize I don’t know what kind of car Beckett drives. I scour the lot and find a truck idling, its headlights painting the ground in front. Tentatively I head toward it. When I get close enough I can see Beckett sitting in the driver’s side, his arm slung out the window. I keep walking forward, even though I’m feeling incredibly nervous, especially when I glance down at my half naked body. With trembling fingers I open the passenger door and slip inside. The scent of vinyl seats, the crisp night air and Beckett’s spicy cologne fills my senses. Rock music plays faintly through the speakers.

“So, you took my advice
, huh?” Beckett reaches out, his fingers skimming my skirt. It causes goosebumps to rise on my legs, and I suppress a shiver.

He’s wearing a white t-shirt, and tight jeans, and it takes
all my willpower to avert my gaze. I shrug my shoulders. “I guess I did.”

“You’re really gonna mess up our image, you know?”

My head whips in his direction, fearing that he’s just shot me down again. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we’ve always had a predominately female audience. I’m thinking after tonight we’re going to have a lot of male fans.” His gaze roves over every inch of my body.

I have to work hard to slow down the racing of my heart. “Isn’t that you wanted?”

He bites down on his lip. “I’m not sure.” After giving me a contemplative look, he puts his car in drive and heads out of the parking lot. I’m grateful that he’s shifted his intense gaze away from me. Now I can breathe normally. I stare out the window at the dark night sky as we head down the street.

“What are you studying in school?” Beckett asks, startling me.

I shrug. “I’m a business major. Not quite sure what I want to do yet.”

“You don’t want to study the stars like your dad, huh?”

I giggle, tucking an errant piece of hair behind my ear. “No. I’ve had enough star gazing to last a lifetime.”

Beckett chuckles
. “Star gazing. That’s funny.”

I furrow my brows, and then re
alize that he must think I made a pun about my name. Deciding to just go with it, I let out a light laugh. Glancing over at him, I ask, “What about you? Are you in college?”

He
shakes his head while keeping his eyes trained on the road in front of him. “No. I’ve always known I want to be a musician, so after high school I just decided to pursue that. Didn’t exactly thrill my parents, but it’s my life, you know?”

“Yeah.” I think about how I haven’t even told my parents I’m in this band. They wouldn’t be too happy about it. They want me to focus on school and nothing else while I’m here. And since they’re paying for it, I figure the less they know about my extracurricular activities the better. Peering over at Beckett, I wonder how old he is. He looks older than me, but I can’t be sure. Then again, that’s not exactly a question I’m comfortable asking him.

“So,” Beckett’s voice breaks into the silence, “that first night you auditioned for us, was that an original piece you played?”

“Yeah,” I respond.

“You like to write songs?”

“I love it, but I don’t do it as often as I like,” I answer truthfully.

“Okay, well, let’s plan on doing it tomorrow night.”

Shocked, I furrow my brow. “Do what?”

“Write songs.”Beckett says in his normal bored tone, keeping his eyes trained on the road. “None of the other guys in the band write, and we need some new material, so I figured you and I could come up with some new stuff. We can meet at my apartment. I’ll give you the address later.”

I wonder if Beckett will ever cease to amaze me. He’s the only guy I’ve ever met that I can’t get a read on at all. Maybe after I’ve spent some more time with him he’ll become less of a mystery. I smile to myself, thinking about how much I’m looking forward to spending some alone time with him tomorrow night.

8

Beckett

I can’t believe she actually wore the skirt. I was kind of just teasing her when I asked her to wear it. Now I’m not sure that was a good idea. The eyes of every guy in the place are glued to Star’s legs, including mine. And that’s
not a good thing. I need to keep my distance from Star, not lust after her. For some reason this girl makes me act differently, and I’m not sure I like it. I mean, why did I invite her over to write with me? I hate writing with other people. I’m not exactly the collaborative type. But when she sat in my car smelling like honeysuckle and looking all sexy, I couldn’t help it. The thought of getting her alone got me so excited.