“I didn’t say that.” His shoulders hunched defensively. “Just that it gets a bit quiet. Never lived on my own before. When I was staying at Ben’s—”
“The bass player from Stage Dive?” I asked, somewhat awed.
“Yeah. He and his wife are good people. At the house, there was always someone around willing to hang out or jam. Before that, I was coming home to you so…and no, I was
n’t with you just so I wouldn’t be alone.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
“Hmm.”
“You can’t knock on your friends’ doors? The ones that live here?”
He downed a swig of beer. “Feels like intruding on their privacy or something, you know? Everyone’s busy as hell. I don’t want to interrupt the time they get with their significant others.”
“I can see that. Still, these new friends of yours are complex.”
“They’re just like any other family.”
“With the exception of being crazy rich and famous.”
“True,” he said.
“Is that what they are to you? Family?”
He stabbed at some noodles in a contemplative fashion. “Yeah. I guess they are. They kind of took me in, you know?”
“After I threw you out.”
At this, he said nothing. A whole heaping lot of it. Then he cleared his throat. “Maybe I sort of deserved that, you kicking me out and everything.”
“Sort of?”
“Alright, so I did deserve it. I got complacent, fixated on the music and forgot about everything else. Well, I didn’t forget. I just stopped putting the work in…”
Someone knocked at the front door.
Still avoiding my gaze, Adam stood and ambled on over. Standing outside was a drop-dead-gorgeous buxom woman in a skintight black leather sheath with Louboutin point-toe booties I’d kill for. Seriously. What was it with these women and amazing footwear?
Which was about when I realized that the woman standing in the doorway was supermodel Mae Cooper. It would be nice to say I didn’t stare all bedazzled-like. But that would be a lie. She was magnificent with curves for days and perfect skin. Given sufficient time to adjust to being in the presence of yet another famous person, I’d definitely have grilled her about her skincare routine.
“Martha said you needed these?” She handed a pair of scissors to Adam before giving me a smile, accompanied by a curious look. “Hi, you must be Jill. Nice to meet you.” She pointed guiltily at the scissors. “Don’t think badly of me, but I have been known to tamper with my own hair from time to time.”
“It happens,” I answered, sounding stilted. “Oh, umm…hi.”
“My stylist goes off at me every time. He almost burst into tears the time I cut myself bangs. Honestly, you’d think I’d learn.”
My brain wouldn’t work, so I said nothing.
“Starstruck again,” muttered Adam. “Incredible.”
“Oh dear, that sounds like jealousy. Isn’t she finding you sufficiently impressive?” Mae grinned. “They can’t all fall at your feet, Adam. It would get boring.”
He frowned. “With her, just once would be nice.”
“Best of luck with that.” Mae patted him on the cheek and disappeared.
Adam closed the door with a frown.