Famous in a Small Town

Garrett’s eyes went as wide as the moon.

“Oh, I don’t think touching is necessary,” I said. “Ever.”

“Your generation has no appreciation for the comfort of skin on skin. Simply connecting with another person.” Linda smiled and made her way toward her corner table. “Would you be so kind as to make me a pot of tea, Ani?”

“Of course.” I turned back to the bewildered rock star. “Have a nice day, sir.”

“Uh, thanks,” he said after a moment.

Then I mouthed, “Run.”

It wouldn’t take long for Linda to regroup. Then she’d want to hear his life story. In fact, she would demand it. And the woman could talk for days.

The rock star reached for his groceries, strong hands gripping the sides of the box. Then he gave me one last confused look. It was almost as if he wanted to say something. But instead, he just left.

How about that. I’d met one of my heroes and lust objects. Somewhat humiliating, with a side order of exciting. Maybe he’d run back to Los Angeles, now that he realized hiding out here wouldn’t be so easy after all. At least I’d gotten to meet him. Just went to show, sordid dreams could come true. #blessed

The rest of the day went much the same as always. Apart from the myriad questions about my new neighbor. To which I claimed ignorance on all counts. It was my memory of the photos they’d taken of him leaving his wife’s funeral that made me so determined to protect the man. How broken and lost he’d looked. That had resonated with me for various reasons.

After the funeral, he’d pretty much disappeared from public life. And while a case could be made that I was lying my little heart out to the population of Wildwood, I was also protecting his privacy. Once news of his superstar status broke, I’d pretend to be as shocked as the rest of the town. What a fraud. Though it was for a good cause.

The knock on my door came just after nine p.m. And there stood my neighbor with a scowl on his handsome face. I wasn’t used to being around beautiful people. He made me break out in a nervous sweat. I was sure to blurt out something breathtakingly stupid any moment now. How could anyone be coherent when confronted with such perfection?

Also, his timing was awesome. If only every rock ’n’ roll idol could see me with a messy bun, in a tank top and sleep shorts. This was why having a front door with a glass panel was a bad idea. But it was original, with colored glass in a pretty pattern. I couldn’t bring myself to replace it, despite the security risk.

After pulling the hair tie out of my bun, I slid back the deadbolt and the security chain before unlocking the door with a strained smile. Holding my hair down over the old scar on my neck as subtly as can be. “Garrett. Hi.”

“What do you want?” he asked, tone curious.

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

I cocked my head. “You knocked on my door. Which would suggest that it’s you who wants something.”

“I meant for covering for me today at the store.” He shoved his hands in his front jeans pockets. “What do you want?”

“What?” I asked. “Like payment?”

“You want me to sign some stuff or take a selfie with you or what?”

“Wow. Is that how things usually work in your world?”

He scowled and loomed over me. Though even that was disgustingly attractive. The man had to be well over six feet tall. I was average height and weight, and I still almost felt dainty beside him. He clearly wasn’t in a smiling mood, which made me wonder what his happiness levels were before his wife’s death. Not that it was any of my business. I’d never come close to finding a life partner, let alone experiencing the pain of losing one. I kept the pity off my face, however. Something told me he would not appreciate the sentiment.

“Not saying that we’re more pure or anything around these parts,” I said. “But we at least don’t expect something in return when helping someone out.”

He grunted. And kept right on waiting for my list of demands, apparently.

“Okay then. Thanks for the offer, but my show is on and I don’t want anything from you. Have a nice night.”

Before I could shut the door in his face, his big-ass hand rose to hold it open. “Wait a minute. Last night you were all but hanging out your window watching me—”

“I wasn’t hanging out of anything,” I scoffed. “And I apologized for that. You make me sound like some deranged stalker. But who wouldn’t be curious about a new neighbor? I get that it’s probably an issue for you. People not respecting your boundaries and so on. But did it ever occur to you that maybe you’re being a little bit oversensitive?”