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3
Maddox
“It’s true,” Adam says, finishing his soda.
We’re sitting in Luther’s, and I take a bite of my sub sandwich, laughing. “Candice Murray? Get the hell out of here.”
“Fine, don’t believe me.” He leans back in his chair.
Luther’s is a sandwich deli, but it’s known around town for attracting more of the celebrity crowd. Sometimes it’s easier to come to these places, where we know there’ll be paparazzi and onlookers outside, than trying to find a regular place where fans will come up to us for autographs. I don’t mind taking pictures and signing things, but at least let me finish my lunch first.
Anyway, Adam just finished telling me Candice Murray hit him up last weekend. He’s a megastar, so it’s not unbelievable that other celebrities would get in contact with him. Still, Candice Murray is maybe … no, not maybe, she is the hottest supermodel in the world right now. When I say hottest, I don’t mean just in terms of attractiveness. I’m talking popularity. She’s the top model in the world and has graced every sports and fashion magazine there is. Now she’s turning that modeling career into a film career.
As much as I want to believe him, and he’s never given me any reason to think he’s lying about any girl he tells me he’s hooked up with … it’s Candice Murray!
“Pics or it didn’t happen,” I tell him, washing down the last bite of my sandwich with my water bottle.
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like I’m gonna whip out my phone and ask for a selfie while we’re in the middle of a date.”
I lift my shoulders. “Then that is one hookup I’d have to see to believe.”
He laughs, shaking his head when his phone chimes. Pulling it out of his pocket, he replies to what must be a text message, and slides his phone back.
“What do we got going on this weekend?” I ask.
I don’t want to call Adam my mentor when it comes to hooking up with girls, but he’s the closest thing to one I can think of. He just turned twenty-two and has been in the film industry since he was twelve. In that time, he’s learned how to navigate the waters of dating, hooking up, and everything in between.
I have to admit, before I met Adam I had no idea how to handle myself around famous girls. I mean, sure, I could talk to them, and we could hook up, but I didn’t know what I was doing. I was reactive to the power of my fame instead of proactive. After going to some parties with Adam a few times, I learned how to lay on the charm, or what others might simply call hitting on girls. Believe it or not, there is an art to it. Come out too fast, and you get shot down. Come out too slow, and they walk right by. Of course, it helps that I’m a King, and he’s a Hollywood star. But still, he knew the system, and I learned a lot those first few times we partied.
So we both have a shorthand of communication when we’re figuring out what kind of parties or fun we’ll be having during the weekends. And when either of us gets a text message, it’s usually the beginning of figuring out what those plans will be.
“Naw, nothing. It’s just Jules.”
“Dude, that’s the final lesson I need to learn from you,” I tell him, chuckling. He rolls his eyes at the comment. “It’s true. How in the hell you found a girl who’s fine with you partying and hooking up with others and doesn’t ever ask for you to cut out all the randos, I’ll never know. But I need to! I think Jenny might be starting to get attached.”
“Jenny seems cool. You wouldn’t go wrong slowing down with her. Jules just knows my situation, that’s all.”
“That’s what I’m saying! I need a girl who’s fine with my situation.” I finish my water, quirking an eyebrow. “How long you two been … whatever you call it? I can’t believe I’ve never met her.”
He shrugs, seeming indifferent about the subject. “I don’t know. A while.”
His response and demeanor about it make me chuckle. “See, you’re so nonchalant about it. ‘Yeah, I’ve been hooking up with a chick for who knows how long. She’s cool and lets me hook up with other girls, too. No big deal,’” I deliver an extremely poor imitation of him.
“It’s not like that,” he says, laughing. “It just … is what it is. Don’t worry about it, Padawan. One day you’ll get there.”
His Star Wars reference joke makes me laugh. It’s something I started when we first began hanging out. I called him my dating Jedi Master. “Yes, Master Adam-Wan.”
I’m supposed to meet up with the guys to go over some stuff for our next record, so I’m just about to pull out my phone to check the time when in walks an amazingly attractive girl. She’s wearing a light blue blouse that’s hanging off of her shoulders, revealing lightly tanned skin, and what appears to be designer sunglasses. A small, gold purse hangs off of one arm, while her brown hair sways back and forth, falling to the middle of her back.
I can’t tell if she’s looking at me because of the glasses, but her head stays pointed in my direction as she and her friend walk up to the counter. Wait a minute, her friend … I know her. It’s Stephanie from Life with Stephanie. The Kings and I have done her YouTube show a couple of times. Stephanie looks similar, only with a small, pink T-shirt. Both of them have on jean short pants, or whatever they’re called. They’re similar in body shape, too—slightly thinner, though still with curves. But my eyes remain on Designer Sunglasses, not the YouTuber.
“That might be your Jules right there,” Adam whispers, chuckling, obviously noting my stare.
Designer Sunglasses glances back in our direction. I still can’t see her eyes, but we’re in the corner, so she has to be looking at me.
“Oh, it’s on,” I whisper back to Adam.
Getting up from the table, I drop my sunglasses from my head down to my face. I don’t need them, but I have to make sure I give off the rock star vibe, right? I mean, she must know who I am already, but I have to make sure I stay in the moment.
