There are a hundred and one reasons why Kristen Farrow should resist pursuing a relationship with pop star Roman Dean... But she is drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Upon first glance she is addicted to him, even while knowing that he may some da...
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Roman cut the Hummer off and got out. He walked towards the studio and looked back over his shoulder at Kristen. His face scrunched up in annoyance. "Umm.... What's your name?"
Kristen's fists clenched at her seat. "Kristen!" she yelled through the thick windshield glass.
"Right. You getting out or what?"
Kristen raised her eyebrow at him. Well, shit. He hadn't helped her in the car; he wasn't helping her out the car. Chivalry was most certainly dead.
She warily eyed the motorcycles again and inwardly groaned. This was going to be fun. Unfastening her seatbelt, Kristen opened the door and carefully got out. Roman chirped the alarm and went on inside, leaving her outside. He didn't even hold the door open for her.
"Asshole," she grumbled as she stomped to the door, yanking it open.
She was immediately in a simply decorated lobby. Two couches, two chairs, a wooden table. No one was there. She looked around, wondering where the Roman had gone. She gradually looked over at the receptionist's desk and found it vacant. She crossed her arms and frowned, irritated. What was she supposed to do? Just stand there? Sit down and wait?
Refusing to do either, Kristen set off in search of Roman. She walked to her left and found a long, dark hallway. She could make out music coming from a room in the back and walked towards the sound. The door was closed when she reached it. She turned the knob and peeked inside. There was another lobby on the other side, this one decorated more richly with gold and platinum records on the earth-toned walls, spotless rustic-colored carpet, and over-stuffed leather chairs and sofas.
Ahead of her was another room, separated from the lobby with see-through glass. On the other side of it was Diego, sitting studiously at a fancy-looking control station as he touched several buttons. Kristen guessed it was the engineering or mixing room. In the medium-sized cubby behind him was what she presumed was the vocal booth. It was covered with foam and had a see-through window as well. Nick was inside, singing passionately with his eyes closed. Kristen's heart beat fast in anticipation of seeing both of them.
She turned to her side and looked in surprise when she saw Alex lying on one of the sofas. He was lying on his back asleep with his mouth open, a Playboy magazine opened face down on his chest. Kristen chuckled to herself and looked back over to the engineering booth. Roman was now standing beside Diego talking to him.
Kristen was shocked to see him standing there. Where had he come from that fast? Her immediate response was to be pissed off at him for deserting her outside but she couldn't help feeling that mad, hungry desire for him as she looked at him. What was it about this man that had her emotions so schizophrenic? He was a complete, inexcusable, intolerable asshole.
Just then, Nick looked up and saw Kristen standing in the lobby. His face brightened and his voice grew stronger. He smiled and stared at her as he continued to sing. Kristen widely grinned back at him, waving. Diego and Roman's eyes followed Nick's and looked in her direction. She saw Diego inhale and exhale, his broad chest expanding, his eyes lighting up at her presence. Roman looked back and forth between her and Diego, his eyes scrupulously narrowed as he watched them. Then he looked over at Nick and watched him watching Kristen. A look of acknowledgment crossed over his face. He looked back over at her and her eyes immediately met his, abandoning Diego's. Kristen detected a hard defiance in them and it made her nervous. She avoided eye contact with him and ran her hand down her hair, biting her lip.
