Star Struck (8 page)

“Yeah.” He says from over my shoulder.

“Really? Why?”

“
Because that’s my dad.” He points to the man in the center of the picture.

My mouth gapes open. I wonder why I never made the connection before. Now that he’s staring me in the face
, I can see that the resemblance is uncanny. “Barry Nash is your dad?”

Beckett nods.

“Wow, that must’ve been so cool to have a rockstar for a dad.” I smile.

“He wasn’t a rockstar by t
he time I was born.” He shrugs. “The band had already broken up.”

“Why did they break up?”

Beckett shakes his head. “I think that’s enough of a lesson for today, Star.” He flashes me a wicked grin. “Now it’s my turn to teach you how to write a decent song.”

“Decent song?” I raise my eyebrow. “Or tortured, sadistic song?”

“What’s the difference?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re impossible.” While I follow him back to the couch, I wonder why he evaded my question about his dad. What is the reason Killjoy broke up? I hope that someday Beckett trusts me enough to tell me.
After plopping down on the couch, I scoop up my notebook and pen, and tuck my legs under my body. Beckett stretches out on the other side of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes appear to be closed, and I wonder if he fell asleep.

“Am I interrupting nap time or something?”
I ask.

He brings his head back down, opens his eyes and gives me one of those teasing smiles that causes my stomach to flip. “I was thinking, Star. Songwriting takes concentration and quiet. It’s not just about slapping some words on a page.”

I swallow hard, biting back a defensive remark. “Okay, so what were you just thinking?”

He reaches his hand out
, and for one second I think he’s going to touch my knee. My heart stops, but then he says, “Hand me my guitar.”

I glance to my right and see his guitar propped against the wall. After grabbing it, I hand it to him. He rests it in his lap and strums a haunting chord. Then he opens his mouth and sings,

Pretty smile, innocent eyes,

O
pen and honest, not a disguise.

Scarred and bruised, innocence stolen,

Ripped away, my heart is broken.

When he stops singing, I realize that I’m holding my breath. I swallow hard. “You just wrote that?”

He nods, his eyes dark. “Writing is therapeutic for me.”

“Who is it about?”

Beckett shakes his head. “It’s not your turn anymore, Miss Psychiatrist. I’m supposed to be teaching you about writing a song. We already had your lesson.”

I have a feeling I can learn more about him by listening to his songs anyway, so I nod. “Fine. But I don’t see how you can teach me to write like that.”

Beckett sets down his guitar and scoots a little closer to me. “Why not, Star? Haven’t you ever experienced anything painful in your life?”

I bite my lip, his proximity causing my heart to race. “Of course.”

“Close your eyes, Star.”

I do as I’m told.

“Remember an incident that caused you pain. How did you feel about it? What words would you use to describe it?”

He’s so close I can feel his breath against my skin and I shiver. I
rack my brain for something, anything. But all I can think about is Beckett and how much I want him. So I end up blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Desperate.”

“Desperate, huh? Okay, we can work with that.”

Hearing his teasing tone, I open my eyes. Beckett is staring at me with those dark eyes, and I feel uncomfortable. It’s like he can see right through me. “What are you desperate for, Star?”

Feeling like an idiot
, I shake my head. “I don’t know. Desperate probably wasn’t the right word.”

“Star.” His hand clamps down over mine, and I freeze. The feel of his skin against mine causes a flush of desire to run through me. It’s unlike any feeling I’ve had before. I never felt like this around Spenc
er or any other boys for that matter. “You’re doing great. Now keep going. What are you feeling right now?”

“Desire,” I blurt out the word before I can register what I’m saying. Afterward, I clamp my mouth sh
ut.
How lame am I?

But Beckett doesn’t laugh at me. His expression becomes serious. He lifts his arm and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with his hand. My heart speeds up, and my eyes fall to his lips which are only inches from mine. I want to kiss him more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss anyon
e in my life. His eyes sear into mine, and it appears that he wants to kiss me too. He moves forward a little, and I inhale sharply. Then he abruptly sits back, his eyes widening as if he’s coming out of a trance. After clearing his throat, he says, “I think that’s good for tonight, Star.”

It’s like he just threw cold water on me. “But we didn’t really write anything together.”

“We will. Don’t worry.” He stands up, and I know I’m being dismissed.

I want to ask him what I did wrong, but I don’t want to sound like a whiny child. So, I hold my head up high and smile. “This was fun. Thank you.”

As I walk past him, his hand lightly brushes my shoulder. “It
was
fun, Star. I look forward to more lessons.” He throws me a wink that makes my knees soften.

Composing myself, I nod and hurry out the door. Once I’m safely in the hallway
, I lean against the wall and take deep steadying breaths to calm my frantic heartbeat.

10

Beckett

The minute Star leaves, I bang my head against the wall. What the hell just happened? Did she really say she desired me? And was I about to kiss her? I groan and run my hand over my head. I so underestimated that girl. She is seriously dangerous. I need to stay as far away from her as possible.

My cell phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me. I push myself away from the wall and snatch it out of my pocket.
Ryker.

“Hey, dude, what’s up?”

“I just left Lola’s. Star there?”

“Not anymore.” With the phone pressed to my ear, I make my way to the couch and sink into it. “She just left.”

“Please tell me you didn’t sleep with her.”

“Of course not. We just worked on some songs, that’s all.” I sigh. “Why do you care anyway? I thought you were into her friend.”

“I am.”

“You want both of them?”

“No, I don’t want to be with Star,” he says in an exasperated tone.

“You just don’
t me to be with her?”

“No, I just don’t want you to hurt her.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude.”

“Well, you don’t exactly have the best track record with girls,” Ryker says. “And she’s nice, Beckett.”

“Yeah, I get it. She’s nice. I’m the big bad wolf. Don’t worry. It’s strictly professional between us.” I remember the way she breathed the word “desire” and how she puckered her lips when she thought I might kiss her, and my stomach knots.

“Good. I mean, it’s what’s best for the band, right?”

“Yeah, it’s what’s best for the band,” I repeat, hoping to convince myself. After hanging up, I reach for my notebook and pen lying on the couch next to me. I scrawl the words I wrote while Star was here so I won’t forget them. Then I pick up my guitar and set it in my lap. My fingers pick at the strings, and I try out the lyrics again. Closing my eyes, I picture Star’s face as I sang. Her expression was a mixture of concern and curiosity. When she asked who the song was about I almost told her. There’s something about her that I trust, and I know if I spend too much time with her I’ll yield to her. Only, I can’t afford to trust someone like that. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to her. No matter how hard I tried, in the end I know I’d hurt her. It wouldn’t be intentional, but I wouldn’t have a choice. There is only one path for me in this life, and it doesn’t include getting close to a girl.

“Is it safe to come in?” I hear Tate’s muffled voice through the door the minute I stop playing.

I set my guitar down by my feet. “Yes, come in.”

The door opens and Tate pops his head in, his gaze scouring the place.

“She’s gone,” I reply.

“Already, huh?” Tate grins while walking inside and closing the door. “I wasn’t sure what I’d walk in on.”

“I told you we were just writing together. That’s it.”

“Yeah, but then I met her.” Tate cocks an eyebrow and takes the seat next to me. His gaze lands on the sheet of paper I scrawled the lyrics on. “Is this the song you wrote together?” He snatches it up.

“Well, not really together. Star writes songs about sunny skies and happy love.” I smile in spite of myself.

Tate’s face grows serious. “Is this about who I think it is?”

I nod.

“Did you tell Star about her?”

“Of course not.” I kick my guitar lightly with the toe of my shoe. “It’s just that when Star’s around I can’t get Quinn off my mind. Doesn’t she kind of remind you of her?”

Tate d
rops the sheet of paper back onto the couch and sits back. “Now that you mention it, I guess. They have the same dark hair and eyes.”

“But it’s more than that.”

“Yeah, it’s the innocence. You nailed it in the song.” Tate furrows his brows. “Is that why you’re not into Star? Because she reminds you of Quinn?”

“Yeah,” I start to tell him he’s right
, and then I stop myself. I’m so not in the mood for some heart-to-heart with my older brother. “That, and she’s not really my type.”

“Sure she’s not.” Tate gives me an incredulous look.

“She’s not, okay, so let’s just drop it.” I blow out a breath.

“Fine. I’ll drop it.” Tate smiles broadly. “Now
, do you want to hear how that thing went tonight?”

“What thing?”

“The thing I had to go to.”

I am taken aback. “You really had something to go to
? I was just trying to get rid of you.”

“I know.” Tate’s eyes darken. “That’s my point. I didn’t have anywhere to go, so I ended up at Mom and Dad’s.”

“Why did you end up there? Couldn’t you find a restaurant or pub or something?”

“Call me a glutton for punishment. But actually I’m just cheap
, and I knew Mom would feed me.”

“You’re a loser.” I snort.

“Anyway, I told them about your little writing session tonight.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, yes, I did.” He slaps me on the thigh. “Expect a call from Mom this week. You can thank me later, little brother.”

I throw a couch pillow at him.

“Is that any way to treat me after I gave you a night alone with your friend?” As he walks back toward his bedroom, my chest tightens. I picture Star’s vulnerable expression; the disappointment painted on it when I told her to leave. Maybe it would have been better if Tate hadn’t left us alone. Perhaps we need to have constant supervision.

11

Star

“So, how did it go?” Lola asks the minute I get back to the dorm. She’s wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt, but her makeup and hair are still done up from her date with Ryker.

“Ugh.” I fling myself on my bed, hoping my cheeks will cool down. They’ve been burning up since I left Beckett’s.

“That good, huh?”

Rolling over, I press my cheek into my pillow. “Can we please not talk about it? Tell me about your date with Ryker.”

“It was good.” Lola bites her lip, and her face reddens.

“Where did he take you?”

“We sort of hung out here.” She fidgets with the bottom of her shirt.

I giggle. “Lola, you bad girl.”

“Shut up.” She tries to look mad, but a smile breaks out on her face. “Like you’re one to talk. You were at Beckett’s apartment alone all night. What happened?”

“We just wrote music, that’s all.”

“Yeah right.”

I sit up, pushing the hair back from my face. “I’m being serious, Lola. Why don’t you believe me?”

She shrugs. “It’s just that when I told Ryker where you were, he seemed pretty sure that Beckett would try something with you.”

“Why did he think that?” I’m hoping she’ll say it’s because Beckett has told Ryker he likes me or something.

“Because according to Ryker, Beckett tries something on every girl he gets alone with. He seems to think it’s like impossible for Beckett not to.”

I feel sick. “Well, then I guess I’m the one girl he can control himself around.”

Lola’s eyes widen. “Oh. Well, I mean, that’s a good thing, right?”

I narrow my eyes at her, feeling even more stupid than before. “How is that a good thing, Lola?”

“I don’t know.” Lola looks so worried as she scrambles for something to say that it almost makes me feel sorry for her. “Maybe it just means that he respects you more than he does other girls.”