Page 38 of Fame and Obsession

My sex god. My Fancy Pants.

Julian.

My stomach roils with anxiety. But for reasons I can’t begin to explain, I stand there, allowing him to passionately serenade me.

“Tell me you’ll stay. Baby, just stay. Princess, don’t run away.”

The breath whooshes out of me as that word falls from those lips. For a minute, I think I imagined it, but his darkened stare confirms it.

Princess.

Pressing his bottom lip against the microphone, he masterfully holds the last note until it slowly evaporates. I can’t listen anymore—article be damned, job be damned.

I grab Gage’s arm. “I don’t feel good. I’m going home.”

He nods and reaches for my hand, turning his back to the stage. “Sure thing, Pheebs, just give me a minute.”

“No.” I hold my palm to his chest. “You’ve been looking forward to this. I don’t need you to babysit me.”

His jaw sets in a hard line. “Phoebe...”

I force a smile. “I’m fine, I promise. Stay and have fun.”

“You sure?” He studies me. “This feels really shitty. What are you going do about the article?”

“I’ll text Nate. He can fake his way through an interview.”

Please let that be true.

Appeased with my bullshit lie, he gives me an innocent peck on the lips. “Be safe. You got your stunner?”

I glance sideways at Julian. His fingers harshly strum the strings of his guitar, and his jaw clenches as he watches me.

I pat the underside of my bra. “Locked and loaded.”

Keeping my eyes averted away from the stage, I squeeze Gage’s hand one more time before tearing through the crowd. Pushing my way to the back of the room, I round the bar and pause, giving myself a moment to breathe.

He’s talking before I even realize the music has stopped. “Slight break in the action, you guys. If you’ll watch the screen right above, you...”

I tune him out, unable to process his honey-graveled voice over my raw nerves, when the crowd goes wild.

Turning, I stare in horror as he jumps off the end of the stage and heads straight toward me.

No, no, no…

Instead of acting rationally, I panic and do the very thing that collided our worlds in the first place.

I run to the bathroom.

* * *

I have no clue why I freaked out.

It’s not like we haven’t already had a conversation. I shoved my tongue down his throat, for God’s sake. But the steely determination in his eyes sent me running for the restroom, where I’m currently hiding like some urinary refugee.

On that stage, he wore the look of a determined man, and I’m not prepared to deal with what lay behind it. My inability to control my primal reaction around him scares me.

I haven’t felt as possessed in three years as Julian Bale made me feel in three minutes.

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