FALLING FOR THE ROCKSTAR (#1 ROCKSTAR SERIES)

♪ thirty ♪

I paced back and forth, wondering if he would show up. I bit my lower lip, chewed at my non-manicured nails, and scratched the back of my neck so hard it left red marks on my skin.

Leo Lee wanted to come over. Leo Lee wanted to console me. Leo Lee was my fake boyfriend, but I was single now, so what did that mean?

He'd appear at my door in his hot leather pants and a low-cut silk shirt and shrug his hands through his gorgeous hair. I'd be on my knees, begging to date him. I had little control over my urges as it was, but now? With my new situation, with Cameron potentially out of the picture? Who knew what might happen?

I calmed myself down by convincing myself that he wouldn't show up. He had a busy schedule with more important events to prepare for. Me? His fake girlfriend, crying over a break-up that he'd caused? Nah, he wouldn't visit me. There was no way he'd come strolling up to my door. Yes, he'd told me he cared about me, but did he care enough to make such a monumental effort? To be driven across town to make sure I was okay?

No.

But then I heard one of the sexiest sounds in history; a distinctive engine's purr that was music to my ears. A car revving up, speeding down the street. A sound that only hardcore Lamborghini fans would recognize; and as a fan myself, I knew it.

A Lamborghini, rolling down my street? Never.

I knew only one person who owned one such vehicle.

Leo was not only coming here, but he'd driven himself. He'd gotten out one of his gorgeous Lamborghinis and sped it from south Manhattan, all the way up to north Harlem, where my minuscule studio was located.

Did he know the access code to my building? Was that in his dossier on me?

I panicked. He'd be coming up the stairs any moment. Or he'd be discouraged at the lack of an elevator, and he'd call me to come meet him downstairs.

While I was busy staring at my phone, waiting for that call, I lost track of time. A knock came from the door, and I spun around to glare at it as if it had offended me.

"What the fuck?" I pinched myself. I was dreaming. Leo Lee didn't drive his fancy car here. He didn't park it on the street. What about the paparazzi?

This was someone else knocking. A neighbor who'd heard the Lamborghini and wanted to gush over it. Or it was my senior citizen from next door, who sometimes got lost and forgot which apartment was hers.

When I checked the peephole, my jaw dropped. My legs shook. My fingers grew numb, my cheeks loaded with fire.

Leo Lee was at my door.

It was as if I'd never met him. Never touched him, held him, danced with him, kissed him. The past few months erased from my memory as this wonderful, delicious man stood before my door, waiting to be let in.

"Emma?" His voice broke me from my reverie, and I hurried to unlock the door and open it.

"Leo," I said, winded as if I'd been the one climbing the stairs, and not him.

"There you are." His hands were in the pockets of his baggy lounge pants. He wore a white t-shirt under his signature black leather jacket. His blond tresses were more tamed than I'd have expected, and his skin was fresh, shiny from moisturizer.

The fact that I knew what moisturizer he wore spoke volumes. The fact that he was here, in his cozy attire that he never wore in front of anyone, told me he wasn't joking when he said he cared about me.

He dropped everything and came to me when I needed him most. Even when I didn't think I needed him.

"Are you going to gawk at me like I'm an illusion?" He laughed. "Or are you going to let me in?"