Page 16 of Librarian & the Rockstar

"I can explain," he says, looking like a little boy who knows he's in trouble.

"You can explain," I repeat, crossing my arms. "There's no tree, Ash. How can you possibly explain that?"

"I lied."

I stare at him levelly, unsure if I'm pissed or not. Not entirely sure what's going on. "You lied?"

He nods, swallowing nervously. "For the first time last night, I felt…good. Normal. You didn't look at me like you wanted anything from me or expect anything from me. You didn't treat me like a celebrity or ask me a million questions. It was…nice," he murmurs, taking a step toward me. "It was really fucking nice, Loralei."

"So you lied about being stranded because I made you feel normal?" I blink at him, not entirely sure how we've gone from me being the neurotic person here to, well…this. "That's not rational, Ash."

"I know." He grimaces, taking another step toward me. "But as soon as it stopped raining, you were ready to go. I wanted you to stay, so I made up the tree."

And I'm back to thinking maybe this isn't reality. At least, it's no reality I'm familiar with. Because, in my world, rockstars don't lie just because they want to spend more time with me. Rockstars don't want to spend more time with me, period.

"Don't be mad," he says again. "I'll take you wherever you want to go if you want to leave. I just…" He stalks toward me, stark lines of anxiety painted across his face. "I wanted you to stay."

I'm not mad. Honestly, I think I feel…bad for him, maybe? How lonely is his life that he faked us being stranded just to spend time with a small-town librarian? A lot lonelier than mine, I think. And that's fucking sad. He's one of the most well-known men in the world…and he's happier in a damn cabin in the woods with me than he is living his fancy, fabulous life.

All this time, I've been thinking that we're worlds apart. But maybe we aren't so different, after all.

"I'm not mad," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose when he's standing in front of me, looking like he's torn between snatching me up to hold me hostage and begging me to stay. "But did you ever consider just asking me to stay?"

He seems surprised by the question, and then he laughs a little, the sound rueful. "Would you believe me if I told you that the thought never crossed my mind?"

I tip my head to the side, studying him. "Why not?"

"You were so eager to go." He shrugs. "Guess I just assumed you were desperate to get the fuck out of there."

"I wasn't," I whisper. "I…" Gotta say, listening to his confessions is way better than making my own. "Maybe I was just nervous I'd say or do the wrong thing and embarrass myself."

"Nothing about you is embarrassing, Loralei."

"Ask me what I was listening to on my way out there."

A tiny smile plays at his lips. "You're going to say Midnight Mayhem, aren't you?"

"Yep. I, um…Jesus." I hide behind my hands. "Maybe you'll be glad to be rid of me after I say this, but since we're having confession hour, I might as well just say it, right?"

"Oh, absolutely," he says, a smile in his voice.

"I may have had a tiny crush on you when I was younger," I admit in a rush. "And I might have been worried I was going to throw myself at you or do something stupid last night."

His deep laugh bounces back from the trees in distorted echoes, scaring a flock of birds into flight.

"It's not that funny," I grumble.

"You're right." He wraps his hands around my wrists, dragging my hands away from my face. When I meet his gaze, he's grinning at me. "It's fucking hilarious, Loralei."

"No, it's not."

"It is," he says, tugging me up against his chest. His lips brush my ear. "I'm the one who threw myself at you, baby. First chance I had, I was jerking off in the bathroom, thinking about you. I had my hands in your pants, making you come all over my fingers the first chance I had, too."

I groan at the reminder, my core clenching.

He nips the shell of my ear, one hand sinking into my hip. "You were a perfect angel. I was hard as a rock outside the bathroom, knowing you were naked on the other side of the door."

"Ash," I groan.