Page 4 of Her Rock Star's Dark Secret

“That’s up to you, sir. I mean, uh, Chase.”

Chase chuckled and closed the menu. “I’ll also have the fettuccini alfredo.”

“You got it.” Reuban looked down at the spot where Lauren’s drink should have been. “Oh, sorry, Lauren. I forgot to ask you what you wanted to drink.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll have a water as well.”

“All right. I’ll bring that right out. And, uh, Chase, it’s really good to see you. I’m a big fan of your music.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. It’s great to see you, too. You’re a lot bigger than the last time I saw you.”

“You remember me?”

“Well, sure. You’re Carrie’s little brother. You were that kid who always splashed the girls who were sunbathing at the community pool.”

Reuban chuckled. “That sounds like me. I was trying to perfect my cannonball, and they’d get so mad.”

“I remember the lifeguard getting mad at you for not using the diving board.”

He threw his head back and laughed before excusing himself to put in the order.

“I’m surprised you remember Reuban,” Lauren said, looking Chase over.

Did she think she was the only one allowed to have memories of Maple Creek growing up? Just because Chase left didn’t mean he didn’t remember everything.

“You don’t want to get anything fancy to drink?” she asked. “I would have pegged you for a chardonnay kind of guy.”

“I don’t drink, actually.”

Her eyebrows rose into her hairline. “Really? A famous musician who doesn’t drink?”

Chase shook his head. “Shocking, isn’t it?”

“I’ll say.”

He took another sip of his water. “I’ve seen too many musicians destroy their lives by drinking heavily. It’s a tough job with a lot of long hours. It’s too tempting to want to drink the night away after a long evening of performing. But I can’t afford to keep those kinds of hours. Or deal with the hangovers.”

“I don’t drink either.”

“And why is that?” Chase asked.

She brushed back a loose strand of blonde hair. “I prefer it this way.”

She was being awfully mysterious. But he respected her need for privacy. That was something he understood well himself.

“So, I have to ask. What’s it like being the lead singer of Remington Sound?”

Reuban brought a basket of breadsticks and Lauren’s water, and she grabbed the water and took a sip.

“It’s hectic,” Chase said. “It’s a lot of long hours and hard work.”

“But what about all that fame? How do you keep it from going to your head?”

“Who says I don’t?” Chase smiled at her, but she gave him a scathing look. Obviously, that was the wrong thing to say. “Whoa. Calm down there. I was only kidding.” He grabbed a breadstick from the basket Reuban had brought and bit into it. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing. “Actually, it’s not easy. And that’s not a joke. It’s easy to get swept away by the whirlwind. It takes constant self-reflection and refocusing to keep my feet on the ground.” Why was he opening up to her? This was Lauren. The girl who always seemed to see his bad side first. But somehow, he found himself continuing. Baring more of himself than he normally would have felt comfortable sharing. “I’d love to tell you that I’m immune to the constant praise, but I’ve gotten sucked in before.”

Surprisingly, Lauren’s eyes grew sympathetic. “I can’t imagine what that must be like for you.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable under her scrutiny. Suddenly, Chase didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He’d said too much already. Sure, he’d grown up with her, but he still barely knew this girl. And she hadn’t done anything to earn his trust, not with the hostile way she’d been treating him.

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