Page 19 of Feral Touch
“Here.” Ren took my hand and pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket, scribbling something on my palm. “It’s not an autograph,” he told me hastily.
I looked down at my hand. A string of numbers. His phone number. My heart swelled, the butterflies returning tenfold.
“Send me a text. Or give me a call. Or whatever.” His smile was nervous but hopeful.
“I will.”
“Okay. Great. Awesome.” Ren snapped his mouth shut to prevent any other platitudes from falling out.
“Ren? We’ve got to get going.”
Ren looked into my eyes one last time and pulled me into a hug,squeezing me tight for a brief moment. Before I had time to wrap my arms around him and extend the embrace, he let me go. “I’ll see you?” He made the statement sound more like a question.
“I’ll send you a text,” I promised. His eyes never left mine as he was shuffled out the back door.
Kell was last to leave. He turned back and threw me a grin. “He rarely gives his number out to anyone, you know.”
The door swung closed behind them.
“So youdoknow Ren.”
I jumped. Mark appeared out of nowhere the moment I walked out of the restaurant.
“What are you still doing here?” Was he waiting for me?
“I hung back a bit and saw you talking to Ren. He gave you a hug. That never happens at fan meetings. You two really must know each other, huh?”
“I knew him back when we were kids.”
Mark nodded, looking thoughtful. “And you’ve been following him ever since?”
Did he think I was just some desperate fangirl? “No. I only just found out who he was.”
Mark looked incredulous. “Do you live under a rock?” Then he winced, chagrinned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”
“I’m not really a fan of that kind of music. My friends dragged me to a Feral Silence concert. That’s when I realized who he was.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
I frowned. “How is that any of your business?”
Mark looked me up and down. What was he seeing when he looked at me? I was wearing plain black shoes with a knee-length skirt and warm tights. I wasn’t wearing much makeup and my hair was falling down my back, most likely a tangled mess by now. A fit of pique began to rise up in my chest. Was he judging me for not dressing up? I wasn’t the chic and stylish type. So what?
“You seem like a nice girl, Ivy. I hope you don’t mind if I give you some advice?”
“What?”
“Stay away from Ren.”
I was taken aback. Who the hell was this guy? He was a total stranger. “Why?”
Mark looked embarrassed. “Look. These guys are rock stars. They're rich and famous. They’ve got girls hanging all over them, you know?”
“I’ve noticed.”
“I’m just saying they’ve got a reputation.”
I bit my lip. I had read stories on the internet, it was true, and here was a male fan of Feral Silence saying the same thing.
