Idol (VIP 1)

“You’re quite loyal to him, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. He gave me a chance few others would dare. Every member of Kill John did.” I feed her the standard press line with a placid smile on my face. “Which is why it’s a joy to work with them and contribute in any way I can.” I stand and smooth my skirt. “Have a nice night. I hope you enjoy the movie.”

She doesn’t say anything but follows my progress with her beady eyes as I head for the movie theater. And I pretend that my insides aren’t shaking from the cracks in my pride.

Chapter Twenty

Killian

One good thing about being a rock star? Diva moments are not only expected, they’re never questioned. For once, I take full advantage of that as I enter the theater and make my way to the back row to claim a spot. My immense scowl wards off anyone who thinks of joining me.

I’m scrolling through my phone when someone plops down in the seat next to me. Whatever send-off I’d planned to say dies with I see it’s Libby. She’s carrying a big bag of caramel corn and a bottle of water.

“Libs,” I say in greeting.

“I can’t believe we’re going to see The Force Awakens. I missed it when it first came out.”

“My little hermit. When was the last time you actually saw a movie in a theater?”

She stuffs a handful of caramel corn in her mouth before muttering, “Shut up.”

I help myself to some caramel corn…definitely better than movie quality. “You can thank Scottie for tonight’s pick. He’s a massive Star Wars geek.”

“No,” she breathes, scandalized. “That’s so…”

“Human? Yeah, I was surprised too.” I love Scottie. He’s my rock in this business. But the dude is twenty-eight going on eighty. Half the time I expect him to wave a cane and shout at us to get off his lawn.

He’s staked a claim in the middle of the middle row and, like me, is giving anyone who approaches a death glare.

Libby tucks her water bottle into the snack holder at her side.

“Can you believe this place?” With big eyes, she glances around at the fiber optic art on the walls and the massive crystal chandeliers, and at the rows of double seats that are basically meant for two. Her hands smooth over the wide leather armrest at her side. “I mean, reclining loveseats? Shut the front door.” With a little “Whoop!” she hits the button that lifts our shared footrest.

My lips twitch.

“Calm down, Elly May.” I mean it as a joke, but my voice doesn’t quite get there.

Libby stops her gawking and narrows her eyes. “Why do you look all pissy?”

I give her an affronted look before leaning in a little to whisper under my breath. “Whip was considering asking you out on a date.”

Pissy? Yeah, I’m pissy all right. What I don’t expect is Libby’s flush of pleasure.

“Isn’t that sweet,” she says, pleased as fucking punch.

“Sweet?” I hiss. “You like the idea?”

The corner of her mouth turns down. She pokes my side, and I barely manage to hold in my yelp.

“Stop thinking with your dick,” she whispers.

Sadly, my dick isn’t the one doing the thinking. It’s the organ a little farther north, which is now pounding with agitation. I cross my arms over my chest and slump in the seat. Not exactly mature, but this is where she’s led me.

Libby’s pleased expression doesn’t fade but grows. “It’s just nice to be liked, you know? It means he accepts me being here. Besides,” she says, looking out over the room as people finish taking their seats. “I don’t think he was serious, anyway.”

“I’m pretty sure he was.” The fucker.

“Then why is he over there sticking his tongue down that reporter’s throat?”

My head snaps up, and I’m greeted by the sweet sight of Whip making out with the pretty blonde who’s been trying to get interviews all night. Okay, it’s not a sweet sight, and I quickly avert my eyes. But my relief is palpable.

“You know,” I say conversationally, as I kick back, “I want to fuck you right now.”

Libby jerks as if she’s been pinched and sits a little straighter, before getting a hold of herself and slouching as if she’s completely chill. Cute.

She gives me a smirk and sips her water. “And what?” she drawls. “Mark your territory? Assert your manly dominance?”

“Yep.” I slide my gaze to hers. “But mostly I just want to fuck you all the time.”

God, I love the way her lips part as her body flushes with heat. So subtle, but there all the same. It makes me hard as steel, my balls squeezing tight. I don’t look at her but pretend I’m observing the room. The lights are lowering for the movie now, the empty chairs in front of us obscuring our lower halves.