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That he was fourteen years my senior hadn’t been a factor for me back then, and I hadn’t considered for a moment that it would be a factor for him. Nope. I’d been convinced that we’d at some point take a walk down the aisle together.
Yep, definitely cringeworthy.
In my head, we’d gone on many dates, had the occasional argument, and even ‘broken up’ several times—mostly when I’d heard he was dating someone. Dumb as it was, I’d felt betrayed each time. I’d even tried convincing myself that the dating rumors were false.
It was surely messed up to be possessive of someone you’d never met, but the emotion had been there. I would have tacked posters of him all over my bedroom walls if my overly strict father would have allowed such things. I’d instead kept them in a drawer and even regularly kissed one goodnight.
More, I’d written letters to him that I’d never sent. They hadn’t been love letters. No, I’d merely wanted him to know that his music had touched my life.
I’d played his albums over and over; had memorized every song. Those albums were my comfort blanket whenever things went to shit; they’d been at my metaphorical side during the times that I sat in my bedroom internally screaming my rage at my father.
Seven years later, my crush still existed. Sort of. I no longer illogically believed that we’d marry or anything, but I couldn’t shake off my attraction to him—it was still as strong as ever.
In my defense, Kaiser Wolfe was droolworthy. Actually, that was an understatement. Tall and broad-shouldered withpenetrating eyes, short ash-blond disheveled hair, and a layer of stubble that added to his edgy vibe, he was unabashedly sexy.
It was hard to believe that he wasright there.Hard to believe that I, Inaya Rose Rafferty, would perform at the same venue as him.More, I actually had the chance to meet him.
My inner pre-teen was overwhelmed by excitement and slipping into crisis mode. Wishing that she’d calm the hell down, I lifted my chin, determined to push past my nerves. After long seconds during which I gave my inner pre-teen a stern talking to, Ifinallymade my feet move and slowly headed toward him.
I didn’t expect for us to fall into conversation. Or even for him to grant me so much as a half-smile. I’d probably get a grunt, at best. Because everyone knew that Kaiser was a rude motherfucker.
The world liked that about him, though. Liked that he was real and unafraid to be himself. Liked that he hadn’t gotten caught up in the hype that had built around him. Even the fact that he was so confident it bordered on arrogant didn’t bother people.
Many artists struggled with going solo after their band separated. Not Kaiser. In fact, he’d so far been more successful as a solo artist.
And I was now almost close enough to talk to him.
Butterflies took flight in my churning stomach, and I had to battle the urge to nervously scrape my fingers through my hair.
I wouldn’t try chatting his ear off. I’d keep it short and sweet—introduce myself, tell him to break a leg, and thank him for the many songs he’d written that had touched my life.
His head turned my way, and eyes as gray and cold as an Alaskan winter fixed on me. I almost stumbled under the weight of his gaze. A gaze that gave me a slow, head-to-toe inspection.It would have been so easy for a person’s composure to crumple under his intense scrutiny, but I was made of sterner stuff.
Halting a mere foot away, I offered him a casual smile. He didn’t return it. He just watched me withzerointerest. All right.
“Hi,” I greeted simply, proud that my voice came out strong and steady. “My name’s Inaya Ro—”
“I know who you are.”
I blinked, unable to be flattered by that comment, since his tone rang with utter boredom. Refusing to be fazed, I went on, “I just wanted to a say a quick hello. I don’t need to tell you to kill it out there—I’m pretty sure you will.”
I was about to add that I loved his music and all that jazz, but he let out an irked grunt and said, “Well, there are other people you can talk to, so …”
I felt my eyelid twitch. Coming from anyone else, the dismissal wouldn’t have bothered me much. But coming from my long-time crush who I suspected that my system would always feel an irrational possessiveness toward, courtesy of my juvenile fantasies … yeah, it stung. And so I didn’t manage to bite back a snarky response. “Wow. Aren’t you just a ray of asshole-ness.”
His head jerked slightly in what appeared to be surprise.
“It’s fine,” I said with a flap of my hand. “Dicks are people, too.”
He flicked up a brow. “Sensitive, are you? If that’s the case, you won’t survive this industry. A person has to have thick skin to weather its storms. What are you, eighteen?” he asked in a somewhat dismissive tone.
“Nineteen.” And I had thicker skin than most, as it happened.
“Just a baby.”
I folded my arms. “What’s really your problem with me? I highly doubt it’s my age.”
“I’ve got no problem with you, I’m just giving it to you straight. Most people like you don’t achieve longevity.”
