"People actually do that?"
"Sure do."
I couldn't figure out who he was, but if he said he had people waiting outside to ambush him, then I'd believe him.
"Okay, I'll help you out," I said. "Follow me."
His eyes lit up. "Thanks gorgeous. Appreciate the help."
I fought not to flush at the endearment.
I guided him down the hallway and around a corner, taking him to a stairwell that lead to a side exit near the far end of the parking lot.
"Just go through here, follow the signs to the exit and you can avoid your fans altogether."
"And I can come back in this way?" he asked.
I nodded, realizing he'd still never told me why he was in the hospital in the first place.
"Were you visiting someone?" I asked.
His blue eyes grew darker, sadder. He nodded once. "Yeah."
"I'm sorry," I said.
"For what?" he asked.
"It's really hard to have a friend or family member in the hospital when they're hurt or sick. So I'm sorry. I hope they get better soon."
He looked surprised before a genuine smile crept across his lips. It was the first expression I'd seen on him that wasn't teasing or toying. "Thanks. That's sweet of you." A thoughtful look crossed his face before he patted at his pockets again. He pulled out a long, thin piece of paper.
"Are you going to give me an autograph after all?" I asked.
"Something better. As thanks for helping me." He pushed the paper into my hand. "What's your name?"
"Becca Miller."
"Go to the side door, give them your name and tell them Nathan invited you. I'll make sure you're on the list."
Nathan. The handsome guy's name was Nathan.
"List?" I repeated.
He nodded and leaned down. I inhaled sharply as his face came closer. I nearly crushed the paper in my fist. My eyes fell to his lips. A spike of anticipation shot through me.
He bopped me on the nose with a finger and grinned.
"You better show up on time," he said.
Nathan pushed open the heavy doors. With a wave of his hand, he strolled through, calling over his shoulder.
"I hope that's enough of a hint, Becca."
The double doors closed behind him.
I looked down at the paper in my hand.
It was a concert ticket for a rock show being held in a week. For a band called Cherry Lips.
My mouth dropped.
I knew Cherry Lips. They were everywhere. Their music played non-stop on the radio. They had crazy fans all over the internet. Their music videos had millions of views.
I recognized him now.
Attractive Creeper Nathan was Nathan Walker, infamous guitarist of Cherry Lips.
He wasn't a movie star, or an athlete or a model.
The man who'd just sent shivers down my spine was a rock star god.
