Chapter 2
ASA
Pullingmy shades down to cover my eyes, I push open the door and step out into the bright sunlight. The sunglasses aren’t to block my eyes from the sun, but to help hide my identity. Not that I really need it in this small town. Other than an occasional hard core fan, the people of Silver Falls don’t seem to care who I am. The disguise is done more out of habit.
It’s really refreshing to not be bombarded every five seconds for pictures and autographs. I love Grey Water’s fans. They’re the reason we’ve been one of the top rock bands for the last twelve years. Having no privacy comes with the fame, and that’s the part that sucks. Especially for someone as private as me. My band mates, they eat up the attention.
I came to Silver Falls a little over two weeks ago for an in person meeting with Penelope Adair, the woman who owns the new PR company we just signed on with. A week prior to that, Penelope came to San Diego, where the guys and I live when we’re not on the road, so there was really no need for another in person meeting so soon. But I needed a break from home. Sure, I get plenty of breaks on the road, but I wanted a change of scenery that wasn’t on a schedule. Remembering Penelope talk about her hometown, it seemed interesting enough for a visit. I had no intention of staying so long, a week tops, but there’s something about the small town that has me not wanting to leave. Our next tour starts in only a few weeks, so I should be home preparing with the rest of the guys.
Turning left out of the building, I head toward the end of the block where I parked my black Tahoe rental around the corner. Prickles form on the back of my neck and my steps slow. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt eyes on me since I’ve been in Silver Falls. It’s not uncommon for a fan to follow me around, but this seems different.
Coming up on an alley, I make a split second decision and turn down it. Pressing my back against the wall, I wait for whoever's following me. It takes a good fifteen seconds before I see their shadow first. Reaching out, I grab the person and yank them around the corner, shoving them against the brick wall.
I barely register the loud screech that nearly bursts my eardrums, because in the next second, I’m doubled over in pain, feeling like my balls have detached from my body and are now sitting in my throat.
Holy fucking hell.
I’ve been kneed in the balls before, but I swear the person had to have fucking spikes on their knees.
Using both hands, I cup my aching nuts and breathe through the need to start bawling like a damn baby.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I wheeze. “Son of a motherfuckin’ bitch.”
I don’t know how long I stay hunched over—could be minutes, could be hours. After my vision finally clears enough for me to see again, it’s the black, strappy sandals I notice first. Taking a ragged breath, I slide my eyes up a pair of tanned legs. Halfway up her thighs begins a flowy, black skirt. At her waist, between where her skirt stops and her shirt starts, is a small sliver of tanned skin. The gray tank top molds over her chest, showcasing a pair of tits just big enough to fit into my palms. Hair the color of California beach sand covers half of her breasts.
I keep raising my eyes over a slender throat, plump lips—the bottom of which is being bitten, high cheekbones, and finally reaching a pair of familiar, bright-green eyes. Familiar because they look exactly like Penelope's. Her brows are pulled down in worry as she continues to nibble her lip.
“I am so, so sorry!” she gushes, twisting her hands together in front of her.
Another stabbing pain shoots through my balls, and I wince, gently rubbing them. “What in the hell did you knee me for?”
Apparently, she doesn’t like my question too much, because the troubled look disappears, only to be replaced with a scowl.
“It’s your fault,” she says, cocking out a hip and propping a hand on it. “You scared the shit out of me. Why in the hell did you grab me?”
I straighten to my full height, ignoring the pain in my stomach and balls to glare at her. “You were following me.”
Her scoff blows a small patch of hair that’s fallen in her face. She rolls her eyes, trying to play it off, but I can tell it’s a nervous move. “I was not following you.”
I wait until her eyes come back to me. I lift a brow. “Just like you weren’t watching me yesterday from your car when I was sitting outside the coffee shop?”
Pink creeps across her cheeks and it makes my dick twitch, which surprises the fuck out of me. I was sure my dick wouldn’t work for at least a week from the blow she delivered.
“Not gonna deny it?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything.
One of her slender shoulders goes up. “What would be the point? It’s obvious you saw me.”
“So you know who I am?”
This time, her eye roll is genuine, like what I’ve just said is ridiculous. “Of course, I know who you are. Everyone does.”
“Ohhh-kay.” I draw the word out. “How about you lay off the stalking?”
Her snort is cute as fuck.
“Sorry, buddy, but that likely won’t happen,” she mutters low, but still loud enough for me to hear.
Her response surprises me. Sure, just because I asked her to stop following me around doesn’t mean she’ll actually stop. But for her to blatantly admit she’ll continue to do it shocks me.
I narrow my eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Okay, listen.” Her eyes meet mine. “You want the truth? I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for a while now, and I’m pretty sure I won’t ever get the opportunity to be this close to you again. I plan to take full advantage.”
Well, okay then. I have to give her props for being honest.
I clear my throat because quite frankly, I’m caught off guard by her bluntness.
“Does your sister, Penelope, know you stalk her clients?”
Her eyes turn to slits. “How do you know Penelope is my sister?”
Probably because she looks exactly like her, except for the lighter hair and the difference in their style of clothes. Not to mention, Penelope told me she’s one-quarter of quadruplets.
I give her a deadpan look. “That can’t be a serious question.”
“Fine, yeah, whatever. Anyway. No, she doesn’t know, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her.”
“So you just expect me to be okay with you following me around?”
My eyes drop to the small bit of cleavage popping out of her tank top. For some reason, I actually don’t mind her following me around.
“Can’t you just ignore me or pretend I’m not there?”