Meeting Trouble by Emme Rollins

Author:Emme Rollins [Rollins, Emme]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance, music, guitar, rock star, steamy romance, rockstar, sexy romance, concert, college romance, new adult, new york times, usa today, emme rollins
Publisher: Fido Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

I forgot Sunday was family day at the Detroit Institute of the Arts and it was full of parents and kids. I looked at Rob as we paid our admission, worried we might have the same problem we had at the diner, but with his sunglasses on and the red baseball cap, it was weird, but no one seemed to recognize him.

It probably helped that we’d stopped at a little thrift store on the way so he could buy himself a few changes of clothes and a little knapsack. He’d decided to mix decades by purchasing a pair of old bell bottoms, a “Frankie Says Relax” t-shirt and a pair of scuffed up old motorcycle boots. Then he insisted on wearing them all at the same time, in spite of my protests, and it was weird, but I had to admit, the look somehow worked on him. When you added the sunglasses and the ball cap, it was a strange mix, but he still looked sexy as hell. It was a complete paradox.

We held hands and walked through the exhibit rooms, stopping now and then at pieces we really liked. I was no art connoisseur, but I loved the museum. To me, it felt a little like church. There was something reverent about it. Even full of kids, the place felt hushed and quiet. The children seemed to understand that there was something special about it too. They stared up at the paintings, wide-eyed and awed. That’s how I felt in the museum—like a child experiencing something amazing for the first time.

It was always interesting to see what someone was drawn to in the art museum. There was always something that would be captivating, whether it was one painting or a specific style. For Rob, it was the Native collection—the Navajo blankets and vases, the weaved sweet grass baskets. I squeezed his hand as we left that room, seeing him blinking fast behind his sunglasses.

“You okay?”

He nodded as we dodged a mother with a stroller. “My grandfather was Native.”

“Really?” I was surprised. I’d read a lot about Rob in the media, but I’d never heard that. In fact, I couldn’t remember reading much at all about his parents. It was like his life had started when Trouble made it big. Whenever journalists wrote about his childhood, it was to talk about how he’d started playing guitar at the age of twelve when he inherited his uncle’s, or that he’d played singing leads in all of his high school musicals.

“Apache.” He squeezed my hand back. “What’s that?”

He pointed to the crowd gathering in an adjacent room.

“Puppet show.”

“Awesome! Let’s go!” He dragged me into the room like a little kid leading the way into Disneyland. Before I knew it, we were sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bunch of kids watching a shadow puppet show.

I had it admit, I got caught up. Using shadows as puppets was fascinating, and the story was compelling, about a boy transformed into a bird and a girl who ends up saving him.

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