Blue Moon by Lisa Kessler Page A

reeked of alcohol. “You’re Logan Reynolds.”
    Shit. “I am, but I’m a little busy at the—”
    “It is Logan!” she shouted across the club to her friends who all squealed and popped out of their chairs. She turned back to me. “I knew it was you. They thought I was too buzzed, but I knew.”
    She was way past buzzed. She was drunk. Very drunk.
    A familiar touch brushed my elbow. “Come on, there’s a back door by the restrooms.”
    I pulled free of the other woman’s grasp and followed Anna out. Behind us, I had no trouble hearing Madison introducing herself as my publicist and informing them I had another engagement.
    I owed her.
    Once we were outside, Anna burst out laughing. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
    The sweet scent of rum and fruit teased my nostrils. Anna might’ve had a couple drinks tonight, too.
    “Sorry about that.”
    “It’s okay.” She shook her head, her smile fading a little. “I forget you’re a rock star now. To me, you’re just Logan.”
    I took her hand. “That’s all I want to be.”
    She studied our joined hands and sighed. “I wish touching you didn’t feel so right.”
    “Please don’t wish that.” I lifted her chin until she met my eyes. “Not yet.”
    I bent to kiss her lips, but the second she hummed, flashes erupted around us.
    Anna jumped back with a gasp. Instinctively I stepped in front of her, shielding her from any cameras. How could I have been so stupid? Anna made me forget the rest of the world existed.
    “I’m not on stage right now.”
    A woman snapped another pic, and the guy with her called out. “Are you on a date?”
    “Is she your girlfriend?” Another female voice prodded.
    I groaned and reached behind me for Anna’s hand, my voice intended just for her. “Have your keys handy?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Let’s get the hell out of here. Ready?”
    She squeezed my hand.
    I glanced at the small group of onlookers. “Thanks for supporting my music. Later.”
    We turned and sprinted for Anna’s car. I figured that’d be safer than my truck. Some fans knew what I drove. Most of them gave me my space, but some, like tonight, not so much.
    Anna’s car wouldn’t be recognized. We could come back for my truck after the bar folk were gone. When we got to the car she tossed me the keys. “You drive. I had two mai tais.”
    I popped the locks, hopped in, and fired up the engine. The tires only squealed a little as we peeled out of the lot.
    “Fuck. Anna, I’m sorry.” I checked the rearview mirror. “I don’t think they got your picture.”
    She chuckled. “If they did, at least I looked good tonight.”
    “Good?” I grinned. “You look so sexy, I almost lost it when I walked in Rojo’s.”
    She smoothed her short leather skirt. “I wanted to punish you by dressing hot and not letting you touch me.” She reached over and laid her hand on my thigh. All the blood in my body rushed to my groin. “But apparently I suck at playing games, because a few minutes later, I kissed you in the parking lot.”
    I brought one hand off the wheel to rest over hers. “Mind if we go to my place? We need to talk.”
    “Talk?” She turned her head my way. “Rock stars only take you to their place for sex.”
    “Is that how it goes?” I scoffed. “Apparently I’ve been doing this all wrong.” I squeezed her hand. “Besides, I’m just Logan to you, remember?”
    “Fine. I’ll go to your place.” She stared out the window.
    I’d never seen Anna buzzed before. So far, she was pretty damned cute.
    I parked her car in my garage. After the alcohol wore off, she might not be as cavalier about people labeling her as my girlfriend. When we got inside, she sat on the couch and I went to the fridge.
    “Want a beer or soda or anything?”
    “Mai tai, please.”
    I chuckled. “Can’t help you there. But I do have a bottle of champagne in here. Would that work?”
    “I’m not celebrating.”
    I took out a beer and the bottle of bubbly. “I don’t