ENDLESS: A Less Than Zero Rockstar Romance: Book 1: Ty & Zoey

hand rested. “You are amazing, I mean—the band was amazing— I mean— I loved it!” I stuttered, wanting to disappear through the floor at my ineptitude of being able to flirt.
“Oh, uh, cool. Thanks.” Ty’s cheeks visibly reddened and he looked at his boots almost bashfully. This took me by surprise, I hadn’t expected any of the LTZ guys to be modest. Or nice. Or shy. They were all so, well, overwhelmingly hot. Brushing off the compliment, Ty looked at me intensely. “No, I mean it. I feel like we’ve met somewhere and it’s driving me crazy trying to figure it out.”
I couldn’t find my words. With little dating experience, having such a powerful reaction to a guy was new. But then this was not just any guy—he was a fucking rock god, so maybe it was to be expected. “Oh-kay, but no, I think I’d remember you.”
Realizing this came out somewhat snarky, I changed my tone, trying to be sexier and more confident. Unfortunately, instead, I sounded like a total nerd fangirl. “I mean, I’d for sure remember meeting you.”
God, I’m an idiot. I blushed literally everywhere.
Some of the crowd swarmed around us when they noticed the singer of LTZ was among the masses. Ty didn’t appear to be aware of his effect at all. His focus was solely on me, like I was the only person in the club. He moved closer in so he could hear me better. His fingers lightly stroked down my arm, almost like he was afraid to touch me but couldn’t help it. “I’m not super good at this, um. Well, maybe I made up an excuse to say hello, so hello. I’m Ty.”
Not good at it? How could this possibly be? Everyone wanted to talk to him as evidenced by the crowd of people pushing toward us.
“I’m Zoey,” I answered, and then my mind emptied of all coherent thought because the world around us fell away and there was only me and him in the room.
We stared at each other, both of us with goofy grins on our faces, the silence between us embarrassingly long. I didn’t know how to flirt with him. Apparently, he was in the same boat. Beautiful girls of every size, shape, and color surrounded us, batting their eyelashes, trying to catch his attention. Clearly wondering how to divert his attention from me.
“That’s a pretty name for the prettiest girl here,” he said before finally breaking eye contact to glance down at his phone.
My bullshit detector activated.
“Really? That’s your line?” I cocked my hip and wrinkled my nose in dismay. Surprised, but internally cheering for myself, at my wariness. “I almost fell for it. This is actually how you meet girls after a show. Ty, I’m not a thirsty groupie, I actually genuinely loved your music.”
A look of mortification passed through his eyes before changing into intrigue. His hand continued running up and down my arm slowly. “Hmmm, well, I admit—that sounded super cheesy.” He looked back down at his phone but smiled up at me through his mane of brown waves, scrunching his nose slightly.
My arm was tingling, hyperaware of his touch. Could he feel the energy between us too? I studied him and challenged, “I was hoping you wouldn’t be a pick-up-line guy.”
His blue eyes snapped up from his phone, piercing mine again intensely. “I’m not a pick-up-line guy,” he insisted.
A text lit up his phone that he read quickly before he shoved the device back into his pocket.
“I’ve gotta go help load out, Zo-ey.” His deep voice drew my name out, which sent sparks to my girl-parts.
“I didn’t mean—” I called out to Ty’s back. He was already stalking back toward the stage where the rest of the band was packing up their gear. Feeling deflated, I traced my arm absently, immediately missing the warmth and zing of his hand rubbing it.
“OMG are you SERIOUS?” Alex whisper-squealed, interrupting my trance. “He is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in real life. Although . . . No. The drummer is delicious, more my type.”
“Alex, I just royally fucked that up.” I pouted dramatically. “I’m such a tool, I basically put the hottest guy that ever talked to me on blast. No wonder he bailed. I totally just missed my chance.”
“Shut the fuck up. Did you see the way he looked at you? He’ll be back, trust me. Let’s just chill and hang out for a bit more. Just look nonchalant, cool. As your dad would say, ‘Be Fonzie.’” She laughed.
I tried to be Fonzie. Unsuccessfully. Keeping an eye where the band was loading out, I hoped to catch a glimpse of the gorgeous singer and maybe make amends. Waiting around while Alex chatted with friends, I prayed Ty would come back. After a while, there didn’t appear to be any sign of LTZ, their gear, or Ty. Of course, I was so short it was hard to get a good look, even when I continuously stood on my tiptoes to assess the situation.
Dejectedly, when my curfew approached, I turned back to the group and pulled out my phone. After one more hopeful look, I opened my Uber app, tapped in the address of The Mission, and said my goodbyes. “Guys, I’m calling it. I’m heading home.”
Because the club was in the heart of downtown Seattle, a car arrived in under two minutes. I was a wannabe Cinderella, and the hourglass had run out for any chance at talking to Ty ever again. I didn’t exactly give up. I took one last, sad look around the club before dashing out the side exit to locate the car. When it pulled up, I jumped in and was closing the door when it suddenly flung back open.
“Hey, wait, did you forget about me?” Ty was nearly out of breath when he got into the car. “Can I catch a ride?”
“Tyson, uh, uh I-I— I’m going home. I have a curfew.” I mentally thwacked my hand against my head, not wanting him