Page 89 of Oops! I Married a Rock Star
“Good idea. But you should get a hammer for this asshole.”
Ouch. What did he do?
“Look, Tasha,” the guy says, trying to circle around and hide behind me. I step away to avoid becoming collateral damage. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I just wanted to say hello to Devlin Marsh.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “You mean to Becca’s husband, you shameless shit!”
People begin to stop and look. Hopefully, they aren’t filming this for Facebook or something. That would alert my extra-zealous female fans as to exactly where I am, and this peaceful little town doesn’t need their kind of crazy. Neither do Becca and I.
But… Nah. The world isn’t that decent. Just look at the number of people holding their phones out in front of them. I pray they only upload it to the Society group.
The shy fan jumps away from me, like I’m a nuke about to go off. “What? His Facebook page didn’t say that!”
“Maybe because it’s none of your goddamn business!” Tasha says.
Becca finally walks up and puts a hand on Tasha’s arm. “Hey, Tasha. You okay?” She glances at me, at the guy, and then back to her friend.
“No, I’m not okay. Because Jeff is here,” Tasha says.
Jeff…? The mannequin dude! And the voice from the subscription service! Which means he’s the fucking dick who stood Becca up on the night she was supposed to shine!
Now I’m happy I didn’t autograph his shirt. Otherwise, I’d have to rip it off him and go find some mud to throw it in.
Tasha continues, “He apparently wants to say hello to your husband.”
Becca’s jaw drops, and she turns to look at the man. Something that looks awfully like a death laser is shooting out of her flashing eyes. “You bastard! How dare you show your face around here!”
“I’m entitled to say hello to my favorite rock star!” Jeff yells. “It isn’t like you have a monopoly on him!”
I put a hand on Becca’s shoulder, then step forward. “Nobody yells at my wife like that, and she has a complete monopoly on me.”
“She…” He gestures. “She… She’s not worth—”
“I decide who’s worth what,” I say. “And you’re not worth shit, porcupine crotch!”
Becca lets out a snort, then laughs, as does Tasha. Jeff just stands there, blushing and looking bewildered. People’s eyes shift downward, and a teenager says, “Dude, what’s wrong with your crotch?”
Jeff’s face goes full maraschino.
“Get lost,” I say, then toss the marker on the ground. He can pick it up out of the dirt if he wants.
“Porcupine crotch?” Becca giggles as we turn away from the bastard.
“You’re the one who created it.” I run a hand over my chin. “You should make it one of your showpieces. Every woman who ever had a shitty boyfriend will appreciate it.”
She laughs harder. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making me laugh and feel better.”
“Guys like that are subhuman trash.” Cheaters are the worst in my book. Still, something about the interaction with Jeff is bugging the hell out of me, although I can’t quite place my finger on it.
Becca places a quick peck on my cheek.
My thoughts scatter at her spontaneous display of affection. She’s never done anything like this before, not in public. And I like it. A lot.
Tasha looks up at a huge clock tower. “It’s time for the archery competition,” she announces, then turns to Becca. “You’re competing too, right? Going to crush my aspirations again?”
