Unwritten (Woodlands 5)

She wrinkles her nose before pinning her attention back on Adam. Then, proving she has big balls to match her big boobs, she pulls out a pen and jots something down on a napkin. “If you get bored, here’s my number.”

“We’re right here, bitch,” AnnMarie calls out.

“Who you calling a bitch?” the handsy fan’s friend snarls.

The three guys take a step back, as if they don’t want to get in the way of this potential girl fight. I roll my eyes. Men, honestly.

Stepping forward, I take fangirl by the arm. “Trust me. I’m doing womanhood a favor by taking Adam off the market. He’s got a huge ego. And he’s super temperamental. Rock stars.” I make a sad face. “You think they’re going to be awesome, but then you get them home and they think they’re above the little things, like picking up dirty socks and putting down the toilet seat.”

As I’m holding back the fangirl, Grace and AnnMarie usher the boys to the first hole. Once the dark swallows them up, the fangirl’s interest dims.

“It’d be Adam Rees in your house, though,” she says, but her heart is no longer in it.

“No matter what they do, they’re all the same in the end. Trust me on this. Besides, if you really want a rock star experience, you need to seek out Rudd.”

“Chris Rudd? The bassist?” She chews on her lip. “I dunno.”

“He’s really in demand.” This girl wants to sleep with a rock star? Rudd’s her absolute best chance from everything I’ve seen. I build him up a bit more. “There’s never been a night that hasn’t ended with Rudd surrounded by girls, but you? You’re exactly his type.”

“Really?” She isn’t quite convinced, but she’s wavering. The uncertainty in her voice begs for a small push.

“Absolutely. Look at you. You’re gorgeous.” I’m not blowing smoke up her ass. She really is pretty. “You go up there with all the confidence you showed tonight, and he’ll be putty in your hands. The band’s playing at Eighth Street tomorrow.”

We near the concession stand her group is hanging out when the fangirl unexpectedly throws her arms around me. “Thank you for the tip. You’ve been super nice. I’m sorry I hit on your man.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I awkwardly pat her on the back. “Be safe tonight, ladies.”

I give the two girls a jaunty wave and find my five friends hiding just beyond the concession stand.

I sense, more than see, Adam shaking his head.

“When I get big, you’re in charge of all the fan interaction,” he announces.

“No thanks.”

“Why? That was a masterful performance. Rudd couldn’t have done it better himself.”

“You heard?” I ask in surprise.

“We were right behind you.” Adam hands me a putter. “In case she turned and tried to jump you.”

“They were still hoping for a fight,” Grace chirps.

Of course they were.

“I only said it to protect you,” I tell him.

“You should stick around. There are a lot of other women here. I’m afraid.”

“Ha. You could crush them all with your mighty fist.”

As I give my putter a practice swing, Adam calls out, “Hey Landry, it’s not my fist that’s mighty.”

I nearly drop the club. Next to me, AnnMarie snickers. She knows exactly where my mind went which is in the gutter, where I’m on my knees checking out exactly how mighty Adam’s dick is. I presume it’s awesome. I wipe one sweaty palm against my leg and then the other.

“Are we talking sticks or balls,” Bo jokes. “Because I’ve got the longest stick here.” He lifts his golf club up and waves it in the air.

The three guys fold themselves in half laughing, thankfully not noticing that I’m engaging in a dirty fantasy in front of them. AnnMarie gives me a nudge. “Start playing, Landry. We’ll leave these yahoos behind.”