Overdue - A Rockstar Romance

Chapter 20 - Phoebe

"Yeah, so has everyone I know apparently." I sighed.

He chuckled darkly, "Yeah, it's amazing how many people 'care' about you when you hit the big time."

That bitterness in his voice was clearly from experience but I didn't want to pry seeing as we hardly knew each other. "Any ideas how to make it stop?" I asked.

"The paparazzi or the people pretending to care?" he laughed.

"Both?" I said, flopping back on a pillow, crushing my fort and smacking the back of my head against the bed post in the process.

My teeth rattled and I let out a hiss of pain. "Are you okay? What was that?" his concern was touching but I couldn't bring myself to admit what I had just done.

"Yeah, just...dropped something." I lied.

"Okay?" I could tell he didn't quite believe me.

"So what are your tips on handling the press?" I asked, steering the subject away from my clumsiness and inability to function like a normal human being.

"To tell you the truth, I leave most of that to our brand manager." He admitted.

"Yeah, Cara wants me to get one of those." I absentmindedly rubbed the back of my head, wincing at where I could already feel the bruise forming.

"They're worth it. They can organise interviews and statements and stuff."

"I don't want to give interviews." I said quickly, "I'm really boring and they will only want to ask me about you. About us. Even though there isn't an us."

I cringed, 'stop talking Phoebe'.

His voice changed, taking on a husky tone, "What if there was? Would that be so bad?"

"If there was an us?" I floundered for a response, "I don't...I can't...I don't want to just be this week's girl on your arm."

"Why Phoebe, are you asking me to commit already?" he laughed, "Usually they wait until after the first date rather than rejecting me before I can invite them on one."

"I don't want to just be another girl on your list of broken hearts Elliott."

I heard his intake of breath, "I never said you would be. What's the harm in getting to know each other?"

I squirmed; on the one hand I was beginning to really enjoy talking to him. On the other, I was very aware that this was a guy who dated beautiful models and actresses. I was nowhere near in their league. "I think we're just too different." I told him. "I've seen the pictures; you have a different beautiful girl every day. I'm barely average."

"Most of that stuff is twisted by the press. There hasn't been anyone since I met you Phoebe. And how do you know we are so different? You haven't even got to know me. We've got deep conversations to have before you can pass a judgement like that?" he laughed.

I raised an eyebrow before remembering he couldn't see me down the phone, "Oh? Like what?" I asked.

"Like your favourite superhero?"

It was my turn to laugh, "Oh that sort of deep. Not sure we're ready for that."

He mock sighed, "You're probably right. Let's start easy, favourite type of food?"

I cocked my head to one side, "Chocolate sprinkle Krispy Kreme."

"The doughnut?"

"Yeah the doughnut. What else would I be talking about?" I giggled.

"Make-up? I don't know. Girl's make-up has weird names you know. Like what's up with giving lipsticks weirdly delicious names when they don't taste anything like those things." He sounded exasperated as if this was a real issue for him.

"I think they name them after the colour, not the flavour." I said, biting back more laughter.

"Well I know that now." He replied in a stroppy tone.

"I feel like there's a story there. Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not but safe to say I'm not welcome at the Charlotte Tilbury make-up counter again."

I laughed out loud. Talking to him was so easy suddenly. Maybe it was not being able to see him to get distracted by his stupidly attractive face.

"Anyway, that's good to know. But I meant type of food. Thai, Chinese, Italian?" he probed.

"Oh, I'm easy, I like most things."

He groaned, "Girl after my own heart. How about I take you to an amazing little Italian I know?"

Of course, he had to go and ruin it. Just when I was warming to him and thinking we could be friends.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea." I said, my voice guarded.

"Woah, no need to throw up those walls. Just want to get to know you love." He laughed before adding, "As friends if that makes you more comfortable?"

"Maybe." I mumbled noncommittally.

"Perfect. I'll book the table for eight. Where are you? Did you want me to arrange a car?"

"Wait a second. I didn't say yes." I protested.

"I'm just getting ready for when you do."

"Used to getting your own way, are you?" I pursed my lips in irritation.

"Yes," he replied honestly, "Because I usually do."

I twirled a strand of damp hair that had escaped the towel around my finger as I thought about it, and then it came to me. My lips curved into a wicked smile. "Oh, I suppose if it's just as friends, I'd love to come. Just let me check with Cara that she can make it too."

"I erm...well ok then. Let me know what she says, and I'll book the table." I could hear the frustration in his voice, "Let her know Victoria is invited too." He added, recovering slightly.

"Will do." I said, stifling a giggle.

"Ok." He said, more than a little confused.

"Well I should be going. So, bye I guess?" I winced at how awkward that sounded.

"Bye." He echoed, "I'll text you the details."

I hung up and then sat there in silence, processing the conversation and relaying it over in my head.

A knock on my door startled me out of the staring contest I was having with my phone.

"You nearly ready hun?" Cara's muffled voice said from the hallway.

"Yeah." I called back with a slightly hysterical laugh.

"You ok?"

I stood and stretched out my limbs. "As much as I can be." I replied truthfully.