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Saffi was not a groupie, and she doubted the other girl had ever been one. Any self-respecting G would have known right away what that line was for.

    Gs knew what rockstars really were – assholes who were too fucking good on bed --- but Saffi clearly didn’t.

    Carmina sighed in exasperation even as she gave Albert a come-hither smile, liking the impressive bulge behind his pants.

    Fangirls.

Chapter Three

    Pinterest, a photo of Staffan Aehrenthal on stage
    Starry_eyed4SA: Say hello to my husband (he doesn’t know we’re married).

    Staffan sat in front of them, bare-chested, one arm stretched along the back of the leather couch, which spanned the entire length of one wall. As his lazy gaze touched them one by one, Saffi tried to look as cool and at ease as the nine other girls with her inside his dressing room even though she had absolutely no idea what was about to happen.

    Surely…surely Staffan wouldn’t be, umm, hand-selecting all of them at the same time?

    Staffan managed to stop himself from smirking at the way her gaze flitted about the room, lingering on the other women but never on him. She was the only person here who was not comfortable, the only one who wasn’t able to look at him in the eye.

    Good. Maybe in a bit she would cry wolf, and he’d finally understand what she was up to.

    “You.”

    Mitch, standing next to her, elbowed her none too gently at the side. “He’s talking to you, idiot.”

    Staffan’s fingers dug into the couch in an effort to keep him from snatching Saffi away to his side and ordering his security team outside to take the other woman away. That jab must have hurt, dammit.

    Saffi turned to him, reluctance visible in her every move.

    Again, he was struck at how beautiful she was, how innocent she looked even with her face made up like an exotic belly dancer. “Y-yes?”

    He drawled, “How was it earlier?”

    She blinked at him, confusion and embarrassment swirling in her eyes.

    He raised a brow, unwilling to make it easy for her.

    Staffan likes his women slutty , she reminded herself. Saffi blurted out, “Hot and wet.”

    The silence that followed was excruciating.

    Oh my God, oh my Lord, did she just freaking say that?

    Staffan coughed, to cover his surprise that someone so nerdy she wanted to study fish for life had said something like that. To keep his arousal at bay, he switched his attention to the rest, asking them one question each. When he finished with all ten, he pointed to the three women he wanted to stay – including Saffi of course – and nodded goodbye to all the rest.

    Ooooh . Saffi tried very hard not to show how shocked she was as the other women left – and Mitch was one of them. Saffi pretended not to notice the other woman’s hate-filled gaze just before the door slammed shut behind Mitch.

    So that was like an elimination round, Saffi mused, and she had just survived it. She didn’t know if she found the thought amusing or intimidating. Women actually competed just to be his…what? One night stand?

    “First time to get selected?” The older woman gliding to her side whispered. Everyone here were older than Saffi, and she wondered uneasily if Staffan would notice it and – worse –hold it against her. Saffi knew a lot of rockstars liked the Lolita type of girls, but Staffan had always been different. Even when he was just starting out, Staffan had been known to date women older than him, women who were so glamorous that they shouldn’t have had given a twenty-something budding rockstar the time of the day.

    Realizing the other woman was waiting for her to answer, she lied breezily, “My first time with Staffan. But I, umm, get selected all the time when I tour with, umm---” Saffi madly searched her mind for a famous name that Staffan surely wouldn’t be associated with.

    Her gaze fell to the clock on the dressing table, which showed the time and temperature.

    “ --- Celsius,” she said almost giddily. The boy band