When a Star Falls (Stars Book 1) Read online

  “It looks complex to me. All of those notes and lyrics you have written on the page. Most people think rocket science is difficult but music—and poetry to go along with it—is like a foreign language.”

  What began as a hopelessly awkward introduction turned into an easy conversation that, if overheard, could have made us be mistaken as lifelong friends. Collin was hilarious, brilliant, and humble. Where I would have been content with listening to his stories, he kept herding the conversation back to me. Before I knew it, I was spilling my deepest, darkest secrets of wanting to be a songwriter, with my words being warbled out by famous singers over the radio.

  “So, you perform, too? But you don’t want to be a rock star?”

  I shrugged. “Not particularly. I don’t care for the spotlight like some do, but for now, I have to perform my work to get my name out there. Usually, my roommate helps me out. She’s got a beautiful voice and an, uh, how should I say it? An engaging stage presence.”

  “I’m sure your voice is just as angelic,” Collin interjected, causing warmth to prickle under my scarf and creep up my neck.

  “Maybe, but when I say ‘engaging stage presence’, I mean she’s a diva.”

  Collin roared with laughter. “What does she think of you calling her that?”

  I smiled sweetly and let myself look innocently into his gorgeous blue eyes. “She’s the one who announced it when we first became roommates, so I think she’s okay with it.”

  The bus was nearly empty, and the driver slammed abruptly on the brakes, stopping in front of my apartment complex. His driving caught me unaware and I whacked my head on the glass. Rubbing my forehead where I’d knocked it into the window, I wondered if it was going to leave a welt. It seemed like my clumsiness was on overdrive.

  Gathering up my things, I asked, “How much farther to your place?”

  Sheepishly, Collin grinned and admitted, “I don't live this way. I'm just a couple blocks from campus. I was hoping to get to talk with you a little more, and this seemed like the way to do it.”

  Stunned, I blushed. “Well, that would explain why you aren’t wearing a coat when it’s only forty degrees out.”

  “Have to take opportunities as they come,” Collin said as he scooted out of the way for me. “See you around, then?”

  Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I agreed, “I’d like that.”

  As I stepped away, he gently grabbed me by the cuff of my jacket. “Wait a minute. I know your career goals, the name of your family’s dog, and your true feelings about physics, but you haven't told me your name yet.”

  Playfully, I smirked, “You didn’t ask.”

  Grinning in return, he said in his best English accent, “Then what, pray tell, is your name, good lady?”

  “Kind sir, thou mayest call me...” I snorted out a giggle. I could have died of embarrassment, but it was fun to be silly and harmlessly flirt. “Ruby.”

  Chapter Two

  “I'm going out tonight. You wanna come?” Vanessa called from her bedroom.

  Yawning, I stretched my arms above my head and politely declined. “You party way too hard and too late for me.”

  Vanessa raised her already high arching eyebrow and smirked as she pinned the rest of her dark tresses to the top of her head. She left a few wisps of hair down to frame her face and curled them with her flat iron. Vanessa was full-blooded Latina, a fact she exploited well with her hair wildly careening down to her waist and her dark skin, which always seemed to be shimmering, like she had rubbed glitter all over herself.

  Her family was from Columbia and they were incredibly wealthy—like so rich, I think they owned a couple of islands and a private jet. Vanessa said her father was a businessman, but I wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t in a drug cartel. He’d sent her to school in Nebraska of all places, hoping that a quiet Midwestern state would be able to tame her a bit. We became roommates our Junior year, meeting at the music building where Vanessa was a performance major. Within two hours of living with her, I knew there was nothing on this earth that would bridle her zest for life. If anything, Vanessa created her own excitement out of thin air, and it wouldn’t matter if she was sent to the Antarctic, she’d find a party there.

  “Really, Ruby,” she said, rolling her r’s slightly, “you need to get out more. If you’re ever going to be a famous songwriter, you need to network. You could wear that little black dress I have in the closet. You know, the one with the beading on it. Those red high heels and some lipstick would really set off the look.” Vanessa was forever trying to dress me as seductively as she clad herself on Friday nights, but I resisted as much as I could. I let her play dress up with me when we had a performance, but unless I was going to be singing on Friday night at a party, or heaven forbid, a bar where the men were extra grabby, I preferred to snuggle on the couch with my guitar.

  I mockingly rolled my eyes. “I doubt there’ll be anyone to network with at the frat party you’re going to.”

  “You never know.”

  “I’ll take my chances. If you come across someone, be sure to get their business card for me.”

  “Suit yourself,” she added before I left to raid the kitchen.

  I scanned through Netflix for sappy romantic comedies and settled on While You Were Sleeping to hold me over for the evening. I cupped a warm mug of hot chocolate in my hands, letting the steam heat the tip of my nose. Curling my legs underneath, I set my guitar next to me, along with the music Collin had delivered to me in a very dramatic way. I’d managed to sort out the lyrics and music and had played through it several dozen times, first on the keyboard I kept in the corner for such occasions, then on the guitar before taking a break for dinner. It hadn’t been hard to master. Collin had been the catalyst to finishing the song that had been stubbornly holding out just below the surface. Now that it was freed from my soul, I smiled, remembering the way he grinned and what it did to my pulse.

  A knock at the door startled me and for a moment, I imagined it was Collin, coming to surprise me. Shaking my head, I chuckled at my silly, girlish fantasy and let Vanessa get it.

  “Who are you thinking of?” Vanessa asked as she strutted down the hallway, stopping at the coat rack to slip on her bright pink trench coat.

  “No one,” I quickly fibbed.

  Vanessa incredulously raised her eyebrows again and opened the door. Franco, Vanessa’s boyfriend du jour, strolled in with his hands in his pockets. The room was immediately overpowered with his cologne, and he slid one hand over his slicked back hair. What was it with Italian men and their long, pointy shoes? It looked like Franco was wearing polished leather gondolas on his feet.

  “Ready, cara mia?” Franco suavely inquired, wrapping his hand around Vanessa’s waist.

  She giggled and gave herself one final primping in front of the mirror next to the door. “Don't wait up.”

  “Promise I won’t,” I agreed “Just don’t stay out too late. You’re always so crabby when you’re up past your bedtime.”

  “I am not,” she pouted.

  “Since we don’t have any performances tomorrow, will you help me record a new song? I just finished it today and I’m going to polish it tonight. I need your voice to harmonize. Please,” I whined. I’d picked up more than a few tricks from Vanessa’s book of How to Get What You Want, and as much as she hated it, they were usually effective even on her.

  “Ah. The road to stardom via homemade music video,” Vanessa scoffed. “You don’t need my voice for that.”

  “I think you have a great voice, Ruby,” Franco interjected. I couldn’t help noticing his eyes flick over me as if he was trying to guess what I looked like without the flannel pajamas. My skin crawled, and my lips tugged down into a frown. Creep.

  Vanessa glared sideways at him and then turned her attention back to me, conceding, “You just need a confidence boost. You aren’t terrible.”

  I rolled my eyes. That was usually about as close as she could come to a compliment. “Thank
you, Vanessa.”

  “What are friends for?” she shrugged. I smiled and ushered the couple out the door, dead bolting it behind them. I guess that was a no. Alone, with only Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman to banter playfully while I worked, I picked up my acoustic guitar and strummed my fingers across the strings while singing the melody. Satisfied it was ingrained in my brain, I worked on learning the harmony. I don’t know how many of our neighbors could hear me, but the ones who’d said anything had complimented me on my behind closed-doors performances.

  I put the sheet music on the coffee table in front of me and looked at my newest composition with a swell of pride. I’d cleaned it up so I could read my scratchy handwriting. Nimbly, I plucked the strings as I played the first few measures of introduction. Just as I was about to start singing, there was a sharp rap at the door. I sighed and put my guitar aside, annoyed that Vanessa interrupted me when I was on the cusp of that moment when magic was created when I played one of my pieces the whole way through. All because she probably forgot to grab her backup lipstick.

  Throwing the door open, I growled, “What accessory did you forget this—” The words caught in my throat. It wasn’t Vanessa with a hand on her hip staring back at me. It was Collin.

  “Uh, hi. Sorry to drop by unannounced,” he said apologetically. “I swear I’m not a stalker.”

  Barely able to hear around the pulsing heartbeat in my ears, I dumbly said, “Collin?”

  “I was hoping it wasn’t too late…” he trailed off.

  “Too late? For what?”

  “I was just, uh, wondering if perhaps you would consider dinner. With me. Tonight.”

  I clenched the doorknob until my knuckles were white and tingling. “A-a date?” I stammered incredulously. Why couldn’t he have stopped by before I’d put on my oversized pajamas and piled my hair up in a messy bun? It was the kind of unflattering look I was hoping on hiding from any potential spouse until we’d been married at least a year.

  Collin straightened himself up to his full, confident stature. “Basically. Yes. A date.”

  “Are we allowed to?” As soon as the question slipped out, I could’ve kicked myself. What kind of self-respecting woman questioned a date with a hot guy?

  “Allowed to?” He furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side.

  “I mean, you were my substitute just this afternoon.”

  “Oh, right,” he grinned again. “No worries. It was in an unofficial capacity. I’m not sure Tony even told Dr. Petrov he did it. So, as far as university policy goes, yeah, I think we’re kosher.”

  Something about the word ‘we’re’ made me bite my lip in an attempt to stop myself from looking too pleased. “I’d love to. Just, uh, give me a minute to change.” I cringed slightly as his eyes flicked over my pajamas, and it was his turn to subdue a smile. Unlike Franco, there wasn’t a creepiness factor when Collin looked at me.

  “Of course.”

  “C’mon in. Make yourself comfortable,” I called behind me as I shuffled in my fuzzy slippers to Vanessa’s room.

  “I’ll wait here.”

  I stopped and spun around. “In the hallway?”

  “My very British mother would be mortified if I didn’t. She’d say it wasn’t proper to let myself in a woman’s home, whom I’d just met.”

  “Well, my mother would approve of your good manners.”

  Collin clicked his heels together and bowed slightly. “Then my mother would be pleased.”

  Trying to buy myself some time, I asked, “If your mother is British, where’s your accent?”

  “Dad’s from Boston. He met my mom on a study abroad. I grew up here in the states, but once my dad retired, he fulfilled my mom’s promise to return to England. I don’t think she could stand the lack of proper tea parties here.”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever been to one,” I agreed. “At least not since the last one with my niece and her stuffed animals.”

  In Vanessa’s room, I frantically dug through her closet, which was packed full of all kinds of designer dresses: cocktail, miniskirts, shift dresses, ball gowns…toward the back I found the dress that she’d tried to get me into less than a half hour before. It was an understated black little thing that I’d worn once to a local karaoke contest—Vanessa swore I’d won because she’d dressed me. That and she was out of the competition with a lingering case of laryngitis, otherwise she would have claimed the cheap trophy and bragging rights. Even I had to admit, it hugged me in all the right places. The dress still had enough give that I could dance if needed, and the beaded embroidery on the left sleeve gave it that extra something that really made it pop. It seemed to compliment the preppy casualness of Collin’s outfit without looking like I was trying too hard. I didn’t know where we were going but I guessed we weren’t headed to McDonald’s.

  “So, if you’re not a stalker, how did you find where I live?” I called from Vanessa’s room.

  “I’ve been knocking on doors for the last forty-five minutes, asking if anyone knew where you live. Your downstairs neighbor knew your apartment number. I would’ve been here about twenty minutes ago but she invited me in for cookies.”

  “She is sweet,” I said as I stretched and twisted a bit to get the back of the dress zipped up—I wasn’t about to go ask Collin to do it for me—“but that still sounds very stalker-ish.”

  “True. I like to think of my efforts as determined rather than worthy of a restraining order,” Collin quipped.

  Satisfied enough with the fit of my outfit that I wouldn’t have to go looking for any of Vanessa's shaping body wear, I turned my attention to my hair. Quickly, I yanked out my hair tie and raked a brush through it until it was smooth, then wrapped it in a much tamer low bun just above the nape of my neck. I colored my lids with rosy eyeshadow and dark eyeliner and painted on mascara. It was my trademark look to make my blue eyes stand out.

  I shushed the nagging voice in the back of my head—the one that happened to sound a lot like my mother—that Collin might be a total weirdo. Maybe he wasn’t going to murder me in a back alley, but maybe he had a bizarre fetish with bunny rabbits or he was rude to waitresses. I peeked out the crack of the door and watched as Collin rocked back and forth on his heels, whistling softly and holding a small potted plant that he’d somehow materialized. Was that a cactus?

  I looked in the mirror and gave myself a pep talk. Okay, so our initial meeting was beyond horrifying, but it’d turned out fine. I mean, c’mon. You haven’t had a date all semester, and Collin is absolutely gorgeous and a complete gentleman…who surely has an explanation for the cactus. What more do you want?

  I grinned at my reflection, knowing the doubting voice in my head had been hushed and that I was about to embark on what could potentially be an incredible night on the town. Popping one of the breath mints Vanessa kept on the dresser onto my tongue, I cupped my hand and huffed. Pleased that my breath didn’t reek, I smoothed a pale pink lip gloss on, then sat on the edge of Vanessa’s bed to zip up black ankle boots. I wobbled a bit as I took a few steps, nearly twisting my ankle once or twice when I didn’t place my foot just right. I might as well have been a greenie runway model who’d never worn high heels before. I really should’ve taken Vanessa up on perfecting my strut. She swore it would come in handy in my music career, except when I reminded her I wanted to write music, not perform. After a few minutes of practicing my walk, I felt confident enough to open the door.

  I couldn’t bring myself to meet Collin’s gaze as I came out of Vanessa’s room and quietly shut the door. I always felt a bit out of my element dressing like I was Vanessa’s protégé, but I was hoping to impress. It might be my one and only chance to redeem myself, especially after Collin had seen me in my hideous Friday night garb.

  I cleared my throat and tried to appear casual. “What’s with the cactus?” Ugh. I always sounded so blunt, bordering on gruff, when I was trying to be confident. At least I wasn’t blithering nonsense like when I was nervous.

&nb
sp; Collin stared at me, open-mouthed. He stumbled over his words, then finally spit out. “You look stunning.”

  My whole face flushed, and I hoped my makeup wasn’t melting right off, leaving black streaks down my cheeks. I muttered my thanks and grabbed a cream pea coat off the coat rack.

  Collin came to his senses. “A cactus? Oh, this? Yes. It’s for you.” He thrust the tiny clay pot into my hands and I took it, careful not to prick myself on the needles.

  “Thank you,” I grinned, looking at the tiny plant.

  Collin rubbed the back of his neck and admitted, “I know flowers are traditionally what should be given, but I’ve read that giving a cactus will leave a lasting impression…plus, the flower shop near my apartment was already closed and this was the only plant the dollar store was carrying.”

  I covered my mouth with my fingers and laughed. “It has certainly made you memorable.”

  “Then it’s worked.” Offering me his arm, he asked, “Shall we?”

  I gingerly set down the cactus and took his arm, enjoying the fresh scent of his aftershave and being pulled close to his side. About to shut the door, I exclaimed, “Oh, just a sec.” I scribbled in red dry erase marker a note for Vanessa on the mirror next to the front door: Went on a date. Be back late! underlining it with an enormous smiley face.

  Chapter Three

  Collin led me out to his car, a polished red sedan that he’d pulled up right next to the curb. I managed to have only one misstep—that crack in the sidewalk came out of nowhere and practically bit off the heel of my boot. I clawed for his arm to keep from going down to my knees but he slipped just out of reach. As I tripped, he swooped in and grabbed me, setting me squarely on my feet.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “I owe you from this afternoon.”