Marooned with the Rock Star (A Crazily Sensual Rock Star Romance, with Humor) by Dawn Steele Page B

boy trying to make it in a
mostly black game. I think they want to see how I perform on the
big game next Saturday against Loyola.”
    The upcoming home game against Loyola was an
important one. A season decider. It made sense that any talent
scout would want to see Kurt perform under tremendous pressure.
    “Anyway,” he added, “I don’t think I want to
go to college.”
    I couldn’t think of anyone who didn’t want
to go to college.
    “Why ever not?”
    He took a deep breath. “It’s too confining
for me. I go to college, and then what? I don’t know what I want to
do. I don’t know what I want to be.”
    “It isn’t important that you know it yet,
only that you get an education,” I explained. “That will broaden
your mind. Help you know what you want to do later.”
    “Maybe.” He looked out of the window. His
voice was pensive and his profile was like a Michelangelo
sculpture. “But Adeline and I are likely to go to different
colleges, you know. She’s smarter than I am. So I guess these are
going to be our last months together.”
    I knew that, of course. What I didn’t know
was that he would be so affected by it, or that he would even have
an internal struggle with it.
    It touched me – the fact that Kurt Taylor,
high school jock, had so many layers. A deep warmth spreaded
through me, nourishing me with emotions I didn’t know I had.
    Fight it. You’ve got to fight it!
    I said, “I guess that’s part of growing up.
Leaving people behind. My Dad says it will happen to all of us. And
that we shouldn’t form attachments that are too strong because then
our decisions to go to college or our choice of colleges might be
clouded by them.”
    He was silent for a while.
    Then he said, “I guess you’re right.”
    I touched his shoulder gently. “Are you sad
to be leaving Adeline?”
    He smiled in the dark. His hand rose to
clasp mine upon his shoulder. A jolt went through me. His hand was
very warm and very rough from handling basketballs. And there was
many a time I imagined those hands on my own flesh, caressing my
breasts and stomach and curves.
    His fingers stroked the back of my hand. My
crotch contracted, sending a spasm of florid pleasure throughout my
groin.
    “We all have to chart our own stars, I
guess,” he said in a soft voice.
    Tears came unbidden to my eyes. I smiled at
him. The air was thick and smoky between us, and a knot strangled
my stomach, making it hard to form sounds in my throat.
    “Rebecca.” His voice was hoarse.
    My heart leaped. Whatever was affecting me
so profoundly was affecting him in some small measure too. I didn’t
know what this was – this connection between us. But it was deep.
And magical. And something more than purely physical.
    A movement to my right made me turn. Adeline
was striding back to the car, the six-pack in hand. Kurt and I
leaped apart as if our hands were on fire, and we settled back in
our seats. My guilty hands were folded neatly in my lap. The one
which touched Kurt’s skin still burned.
    “Hi.” Adeline opened the driver’s door and
got in.
    The guilt was extremely palpable in the air
between Kurt and me, but I didn’t think Adeline noticed it.
    She was gabbing away: “There was a queue
before me, and these two underage guys tried to get away with
buying cigarettes, can you believe it? They were fourteen if they
were born a day.”
    She looked at both of us.
    “What were you two talking about?”
    Kurt seemed nonplussed, but I recovered
quickly enough.
    “College,” I said. “It’s a tough
subject.”
    “Oh yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell
me about it. I’ve had enough arguments with my Dad over it already.
He has just this amount of money in my college fund bankrolled for
me.” She emphasized this between her thumb and forefinger. “Which
cuts out a lot of colleges in the East.”
    Our parents couldn’t help the amount of
money they have, I thought. And what more Kurt? He came from the
other side of the