The waiter delivered our drinks to the table, and instead of answering my question, Kelly addressed him. “And I’ll have a glass of red wine as well, please.”
The man nodded and left us. Kelly grinned at me like she’d won at something. “Happy now?”
“I’m always happy.” What a fucking lie, and from the look she gave me, she knew it. “Fire away then. You look like you’re eager to get started.”
Nodding, she pressed the small button on the side of her tablet to bring it back to life, but instead of reading from its screen, she looked around the restaurant. “So you’re a lobster guy, huh? Should’ve guessed, fancy food for a fancy star.”
“I never said I was fancy.”
The waiter delivered her wine, and she nodded her thanks before answering me. “You’re right. You didn’t say it. I did.”
“It’s not that fancy. I actually like this place and the lobster because I like the metaphor.” Well, that wasn’t something that I told just anyone. But fuck it, they all wanted me to play up this angle. I would show Kelly exactly where and why Jared and I differed.
“Metaphor?” She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and focused her puzzled eyes on mine. I’d never noticed before how deep green they were, almost like a forest reflected in the shallows of a lake. Or some shit like that. They were pretty. That was all.
It was also then that I noticed she wasn’t wearing the impenetrable mask of makeup most women wore nowadays. Except for the bright lipstick and a few tiny clumps of mascara in her long lashes, her face was bare. And looking slightly confused as she waited for an answer.
“Metaphor because lobster used to be considered a ‘common food.’ Even so disgusting to some that it was something that you fed to prisoners and poor people because it was so abundant.” I waited for realization of what I was saying to dawn.
When it did, her eyebrows drew together, and she scribbled furiously on the tablet screen.
“Familiarity bred contempt,” I said. “People only liked it once it got rarer, or lived in areas where it was hard to get.”
“And you’re wondering if Destitute is sort of like lobster?” She’d put it all together remarkably fast.
I nodded. “We used to be smaller, rarer. People loved us. Now we’re everywhere, and I can’t help but wonder if we’ll be the opposite of lobsters.”
“That seems like a bit of a gloomy outlook on things, don’t you think? I mean, you’re everywhere now, and people still can’t get enough. They’re always after more, stalking your pages on social media, camping outside of places you’re supposed to do interviews at or perform. It doesn’t seem like familiarity is breeding contempt at all.”
“It’s not a gloomy outlook. It’s a realistic outlook. The album just dropped, and the tour’s just starting. How long do you really think the kind of hype around us now can survive? What goes up, must come down. Even the hottest flames burn out after a while. You know all the rest of those examples.”
“So, what you’re saying is, you don’t know how much longer Destitute’s star will burn bright?” Again, she just got it. So damn fast.
I nodded and took a long swig of my drink. Talking about this stuff to anyone other than Jared made my skin itch and dark corners feel like they were closing in on me. “Exactly. We’re burning brighter than I ever thought we would. I’m just not sure how long this kind of burn can last.”
“You didn’t think Destitute would get this big?”
“Truth? No. I didn’t think we’d reach the level of fame that we have. Every morning that I wake up to find one of our ugly mugs on the news or see some person throwing themselves in our direction for a selfie or an autograph, it’s a surprise.”
As was the fact that I was being this honest with her. Building hype and playing an angle was one thing, but somehow, we’d veered into personal territory that hadn’t been ventured on before. Ever. Except in the dark of night while I was lying in bed. I’d sure as fuck never gone there with anyone else before.
“It shouldn’t be a surprise. I’ve been watching you guys since you started breaking out. You’ve all put in some serious blood, sweat, and maybe even concealed tears to get to where you are. You should be proud of that. Your success has been hard earned.”
“There have been no tears,” I objected with a wry smile, though I didn’t know if that was true. There’d been no tears for me, sure. But I more than made up for it with the amount of blood and sweat I’d put in. “Everyone always thinks they have what it takes to succeed in a band and that that’s what they really want, but it’s not like most people really feel that way in their heart of hearts.”
“Did you?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? But no, I didn’t.” Shit. This was getting way too personal, way too deep. I had to get this conversation—this interview—back on track. “But maybe Jared did. Maybe that’s what separates us.”
Kelly chewed my answer over for a minute, both of our glasses now empty. I ordered another round, and it was delivered before she leaned forward over the table, giving me a spectacular eyeful of her glorious cleavage before she noticed that she wasn’t wearing her usual well-covering T-shirt, frowned, and to my great disappointment, sat back again.
“It’s very revealing, all of this. I’ve never thought about fame quite that way. I used to be fascinated by the glamor of rock. I admired it, but even if I knew there was more to it than the glamor, seeing it like this is something else.”
“Not so shiny up close, is it?” It was a loaded question, but she recognized it for what it was, pausing to take a long sip of wine before nodding her agreement.
“Not at all.”
The waiter was back after that, and I ordered for us, waiting to see if Kelly would object to my doing so. She didn’t, but she did add a few items to the order after I was done.
Kelly was a one-of-a-kind woman. I could already see that. She was totally, one hundred percent herself, fearlessly so. It was refreshing. I didn’t know how only a couple of days ago, I’d thought she was kind of hot. She wasn’t.
She was a fucking killer. And sexy as hell to boot. As I watched her pop lobster between those plump, red lips, my mind went straight to the gutter, and it stayed there throughout our meal.
I didn’t have a food thing or anything, but watching Kelly giggle and eat and truly savor the food in a way most women wouldn’t dare in front of me, seeing her relax into the conversation and not notice when her dress slid down a tiny bit, it was all hot as hell.
My dick was straining against my zipper by the time our plates were cleared, and Kelly declined coffee. Knowing that meant that our night was almost over, I immediately abandoned my earlier thoughts of this night ending without me fucking her. That wasn’t happening. Not anymore.
“You ready to call it a night, or do you wanna come back to my place?”
Kelly froze with her napkin dabbed to her lips, lowered it slowly, and seemed to be having a hard time formulating an answer. “You want me to come back to your place?”
“If you want to, why not?”