 
# Whole Lotta Love

### Rock Star Hearts - Book #1

## Amity Cross
**Whole Lotta Love (Rock Star Hearts #1) by Amity Cross**

Copyright © 2018-2020 by Amity Cross

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All song titles, song lyrics, products, networks and brand names mentioned in this book are the property of the sole copyright owners.

**Cover Design © Amity Cross**

**Edited bySilvia Curry**

Contact: theamitycross@gmail.com

### Contents

1. Juniper

2. Sebastian

3. Juniper

4. Sebastian

5. Juniper

6. Juniper

7. Sebastian

8. Juniper

9. Juniper

10. Sebastian

11. Juniper

12. Sebastian

13. Juniper

14. Sebastian

15. Juniper

16. Sebastian

17. Juniper

18. Juniper

19. Sebastian

20. Juniper

21. Juniper

Rock Star Hearts

About the Author

Other Series by Amity Cross
"This is the rock 'n' roll life, and you had to invent it as you went along. There was no textbook to say how you operate this machinery."

* * *

\- Keith Richards, The Rolling Stones

## 1

# Juniper

"Ziggy!"

I raced down the stairs and onto the beach, the wind whipping past my face. My boots sunk into the sand and I watched in dismay as the little black and white Jack Russell terrier flew into the surf.

"Ziggy!" I shrieked. "Come back here you little arsehole!"

He leapt into the waves with a joyful bark. I doubled my speed, the sand slowing my flight towards the ocean. Above, the sky was grey and the breeze coming off the water was southerly, which meant ice. There was nothing out there for miles and miles, other than Antarctica... and Ziggy.

Point Mambie sat on the southern coast of Victoria, Australia. With a population of exactly one hundred, it wasn't necessarily a happening town, if you know what I mean. In the summer, it was a hit hard with campers, surfers, and families looking for a quaint beach getaway with the kids. The main street was full of cute little souvenir shops, cafés, ice cream parlours, and craft stores. When the weather was at its hottest, all the cabins, beach houses, and campgrounds were booked, and the only road suffered from gridlock that could put the big cities to shame. Come winter, when the clouds hovered overhead, the Antarctic winds whipped in, and the temperature dropped to zero degrees Celsius, it became a ghost town.

Kinda like today.

My boot caught the edge of a pile of seaweed and I slipped, my feet flying into the air. I cried out as my arse hit the sand, the thud reverberating through my bones. Stunned, I stared up at the swirling clouds—a sign it was going to rain later—and groaned. The pile of kelp was slimy underneath me, the juices soaked into my coat, and it stunk to high heaven.

That dog was going to get it once I finally caught him. _It_ being his most hated thing ever—a _bath_.

I sat up, my vision red. "Ziggy, I'm going to throttle you, you little—"

My gaze collided with a dark shadow and the curse word got stuck in my throat. A man stood a metre away, a grey knit beanie on his head and his hands shoved into the pockets of his black coat. I blinked, dazed by his sudden appearance.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice melting over me.

Instantly, I felt something spark deep inside me. Something I hadn't felt before, and I forgot I was sitting in a pile of smelly seaweed.

I didn't have to be a rocket scientist to realise the guy was the type of attractive that didn't fit in a small town. He must've been at least six-foot-two, and his broad shoulders were a definite sign of hidden muscles. His military-style coat was tailored, and not bought off the rack at a surf shop or army surplus store. His jaw was coated with the beginnings of a beard, halfway between purposeful stubble and unkempt indecision. Piece it all together, and he was likely a lost road-tripper from the city who was looking for the nearest winery. If I walked back up the dune, I reckoned I'd find his BMW parked in the lot.

I noticed everything about him, but it was his eyes that held my attention. They were the colour of a storm cloud—grey and blue all at the same time—and they shone with the power of a thousand storms.

He pulled his hand free from his coat pocket and held it out towards me.

The guy was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, which meant he belonged someplace else—especially not on a lonely beach helping me out of a pile of seaweed. I bit my bottom lip and scrambled to my feet, ignoring his offer of assistance. He was just some guy on his way through to someplace better, just like everyone else. This was reality and not a fairytale.

He grimaced and pulled his hand back.

"I've got sand all over my arse," I declared morosely, brushing my palms over the back of my jeans. " _Great_."

"You're forward, aren't you?" the man asked, his lips quirking.

"I know better than to try to impress men like you. Now that you've seen me up close, our brief affair is already over."

"I wouldn't count me out so soon," he fired back with a smirk.

I flushed, but thankfully, the wind had already slapped my cheeks around so the temperature was hidden. Glancing at the water, I flinched as Ziggy paused to shake himself off. Water and sand went flying before he dove in for round two. Luckily, the natural curve of the land sheltered the shore from the breaks surfers favoured, so it looked more like a toddler's wading pool than a full-on washing machine.

"Your dog?" the man asked as we stared at Ziggy as he leapt through the waves that lapped on the shore.

"He's a friend's," I replied with a sigh.

"Pull this trick often, does he?"

My shoulders sank. "Every chance he gets."

"He loves life, which is more than most people can say. I'm jealous."

My eyebrows rose. "You envy a dog?"

"Sure, don't you?"

I glanced at the guy out the corner of my eye. His tone suggested something more, but I didn't pry. After all, he was a stranger. Everyone knew if you let handsome strangers tug at your heartstrings, you'd end up in little pieces in the boot of their BMW.

"What's his name?" he asked.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat. "Ziggy."

"Ziggy?"

"As in Ziggy Stardust."

"David Bowie." The guy nodded in appreciation. "Cool." He glanced at me and a strange light flickered through his eyes. "And you are?"

I tensed, thinking about the axe he probably had hidden up the beach. Hot guys never spoke to me, the ginger orphan girl with freckles, lack of social skills, ill-fitting coat, and who wore _eau de rotting kelp_.

"It's cool. I'm just a strange dude on an empty beach," he said staring out over the waves.

I looked at him again, catching the hint of sadness in his voice. A man that good-looking had no reason to be down in the dumps, right? Beautiful people led charmed lives, didn't they?

"Point Mambie, huh?" I quipped, tugging a strand of ginger hair away from my face. "Long way from home?"

"I don't really have one of those." He shrugged. "I travel a lot."

"I've always wanted to travel, but I'm stuck here."

"It's quiet here. The only noise for miles is the ocean... I kinda like it." The man smiled, and that single gesture changed his whole look—brooding to alive in one second flat.

"I guess..."

"We always want what we don't have," he mused. "Strange, isn't it?"

I nodded. Yeah, I could roll with that.

"You live here?"

"Yeah," I replied. "All my life."

"It's a beautiful place."

"You haven't seen it during the summer."

"Why? Is it better then?"

"Depends," I replied with a shrug. "If clogged with tourists is your jam, then yeah, it's stunning."

"So... anywhere good to eat at around here?"

Okay, so now I was the local tourist information ambassador. My heart sank a little, but at least it hadn't risen very far.

"Not this time of year," I said, curling my hands into fists inside my pockets. "The local pub does counter meals, but they don't open until eleven. Same with the fish 'n' chip shop. Otherwise, there's a supermarket just off Main Street. Everything else opens for dinner. I'm afraid it doesn't get any fancier than chicken parma and dim sims."

The man laughed and shook his head. "I'm not looking for fancy."

"You look fancy," I declared. He raised an eyebrow and I made a face. "Just saying."

"I look fancy?" It was his turn to make a face. "I'm slipping. Good to know."

I raked my gaze over him once more. His jeans were torn, but that didn't mean much. People bought into designer holes these days. His boots were scuffed, but I could put those into the same category. I didn't know what his vibe was, to be honest. Did he want me to ask, or was he looking for some solitude? I mean, why else would someone walk along a deserted beach at this hour of the morning if they were out to find a sympathetic audience?

The man pointed towards the water. "You need help fishing him out?"

I glanced at Ziggy and sighed as he began to snap at the latest set of waves.

"No, I just need to get the end of his lead. He usually follows after that." I glanced at the guy beside me and held in another sigh. He was just a guy making conversation to be polite. "I better go." I started off towards the water, my gaze searching for the end of the lead.

"Hey!"

I turned at the sound of the guy's voice.

"I'm Sebastian," he called out.

"Juniper," I shouted back. Damn, even his name was fancy. Mr. Sebastian Fancy Pants.

He smiled, his lips pulling lopsidedly. "Maybe I'll see you and Ziggy around."

"Maybe." _Unlikely_. It was my turn to feel the same sadness that'd tugged at his voice earlier. All the decent guys left. Always.

He raised his hand and I turned back to the ocean, the water pooling around my boots as the waves rolled in. Snatching the end of Ziggy's lead, I tugged the little dog back to dry land.

When I glanced up, Sebastian had already made it across the beach to the stairs leading up to the carpark. Like I said, interesting prospects didn't last long in the Point.

Ziggy shook himself, sending water and sand in all directions, then proceeded to kick up half the beach with his hind feet.

"Oh, you're so proud of yourself," I muttered at Ziggy as he panted happily, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. "No treats for you!"

His head tilted to the side and he let out a howl before dropping the sand and showing me his belly.

"Nice try, mister. Nice try."

Glancing up the beach, the hot stranger was gone and I couldn't help the pang of disappointment that tore through my heart. One day a guy like that would stop for me. I shook my head and tightened my grip on Ziggy's lead. Fat chance.

Nothing ever happened in Point Mambie. Nothing at all.

I sat cross-legged on the floor of the Page Break Bookshop and breathed in the scent of second-hand books. It was a unique odour, pungent and full of memories.

Once my mother's pride and joy, it was now mine. It sat on the main street of Point Mambie, a colonial building protected by heritage laws like all the other buildings on the street. Once upon a time, this place had been a landing point for convict ships from the other side of the world. Now it was a sleepy town on the edge of the world. Not much had changed if you asked me.

The floor was uneven, the walls were lined with rickety shelving, and mismatched bookshelves divided the shop in two. Sections for general fiction, romance, crime, mystery, science fiction, fantasy, and children's books wrapped their way around the inside, and non-fiction, such as travel, cooling, biography, nature, and self-help books, wrapped around the outside. There was even a space by the front for local authors and books that were loosely tied to the area. Just the way my mum had organised it.

Gold lettering was painted on the inside of the windows, the Old English style logo of the shop dominating the outside. Displayed along the front counter—where my laptop sat on the top and Ziggy's bed was nestled underneath—were some local book-themed handicrafts of bookmarks, book bags, and e-reader cases. On the exposed brickwork behind was a framed poster from the first ever Byron Bay Bluesfest.

This shop held my entire life. It wasn't hard to imagine since I'd lived in the tiny apartment above it since the age of five. Memories, good and bad, were seeped into every floorboard, every brick, and every page that found its way into and out of the Page Break Bookshop.

The door burst open and a gust of icy air blew between the shelves.

"You'll never guess!"

I glanced up from the pile of novels I was sorting and stared at my best friend, Vanessa, who'd arrived in a sudden burst of over-enthusiasm. Ziggy raised his head from his bed underneath the front counter and thumped his tail at the sight of his owner.

"What's that smell?" she asked, sniffing the air.

"Ziggy took an impromptu swim during his morning walk."

"Again?" Frowning at the dog, she moaned, "Ziggy!"

The scrappy little Jack Russell terrier gazed at her with his big brown eyes and licked his lips. He was banned from treats after his performance but knew Vanessa was good for them, no matter his indiscretion.

"You're late," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"You're going to pull that line with me? Have you seen where we live?"

I glanced out the window at the rainy day beyond and sighed. Nothing moved, except fat raindrops and a wad of stormy grey clouds that raced across the horizon. She was right, just like I'd been right about the weather forecast. In the middle of winter, it didn't matter what time she turned up. No one else was coming.

"So, you'll never guess..." she went on, hanging her coat and bag on the hook behind the counter.

Better not tell her about the handsome stranger on the beach, then. I was looking at the instigator of ninety-nine point nine percent of gossip around here. She was a good friend, but loose lips sunk ships.

Vanessa pouted and waited patiently for me to play my part in the circle of life. That was the thing about living in a small seaside town that thrived on its summer tourist trade. There was nothing else to do in the off months except gossip about the other, equally as bored, people who lived here.

"Okay, you've got me," I said, putting aside the book in my hands. "What's happened this time?"

"I ran into Marg down the street and she told me the house on the bluff has been rented." Marg was the real estate agent's wife and rivalled Vanessa for the crown of town gossip monger.

I paused. "That big fancy beach house?"

"Yeah. I mean..." She glanced outside and made a face. "Who wants to rent a beach house when it looks like that outside?"

I didn't want to think it, but maybe it was that guy, Sebastian. He looked like he could afford it. _Ugh, what was the point?_ This wasn't a summer romance, or a winter one for that matter. The only male relationship I had was with my best friend's dog.

"What? Like a depressing little shit hole?" I retorted.

"Juniper!"

"What? We all think it." I made a face and went back to sorting the next pile of books beside me.

Everyone's business struggled through the off-season, and the complaints never stopped, even when the cash started to roll in. The townsfolk loved the money, then grumbled that their way of life was being exploited. And then there were the animals and the endangered plants people kept trampling on. Me? I didn't know what to think. Mostly, I'd rather just hang out with Ziggy and save the little penguins than mingle with humanity. It wasn't a secret that I'd never quite _meshed_.

"You could leave, you know," Vanessa said.

"And where would I go?" I snorted as I picked up a battered copy of _Fifty Shades of Grey_ , also known as the most donated book ever. Was it an omen? Unlikely. "This is my mum's shop. You know I can't leave."

"Then stop complaining. Anyway, what's up your butthole today? Got your period, huh?"

"Vanessa!" I shrieked, causing Ziggy to raise his head and bark.

"You need to get laid."

"Yeah, by who?" I shot back. "There's zero cocks around here."

"There's plenty of cocks."

"None I'd let inside my pussy," I muttered tossing aside the book.

"Then I know what I'm getting you for your birthday. A penis-shaped vibrator. A big one."

I laughed and rubbed my eyes. "All my dreams are coming true!"

Vanessa sighed and flopped down onto the chair behind the counter. "Who do you think it is?"

I flushed, hiding behind a pile of romance novels I wanted to list on eBay. I'd dismissed that Sebastian guy, but part of me wished he'd stuck around. Nobody interesting ever did.

"In the beach house? No idea," I replied. "Maybe it's some rich prick who's on a pretentious sabbatical or something."

"Maybe it's a hot rich prick."

"You remember Hugo, right?" I asked. "The guy you married two years ago?"

Vanessa laughed and held up her hand. "With a diamond like this? It depends on the day."

I glanced at the little diamond on her engagement ring and frowned. "It's not the size of the diamond—"

"It's the size of his cock," she finished for me.

"I was going to say heart," I complained.

She smiled and leaned back in the chair. "I know. You're a hopeless romantic, you know that?"

I grunted and looked out the window. Beyond, the storm clouds had sunk their claws into the landscape and were dumping their load on everyone in their path.

Hopeless was the perfect word.

## 2

# Sebastian

She didn't know who I was.

I glanced over my shoulder as I walked up the beach, the wind making my eyes water. Juniper was tugging on Ziggy's lead, dragging him out of the surf. If she wasn't so beautiful, I would've laughed.

She'd been direct, slightly sarcastic, and thoughtful. Her hair was the shade of copper, sparking as the wind tore through it. Emerald eyes had stared back at me with a hint of apprehension that dulled their shine. A small-town girl with zero interest in what Sebastian Hale was doing on a beach in the middle of nowhere.

I looked back one last time and wondered if I should go back. _Na, it was reckless_. Climbing the stairs, I breathed in the salt air, basking in the afterglow of my brush with anonymity.

It felt good. _Really fucking good_.

Up top, my car was the only one in the lot. A 1969 HT Monaro GTS 350, a classic Australian muscle car, painted back with two silver 'go-faster' stripes down the centre of the bonnet. I'd bought it at auction a year ago, had it repainted to suit my taste, then let it sit in a garage in Melbourne. I guess I could call it my one-hundred and sixty-five thousand dollar getaway car.

Unlocking the driver's side door, I slid in behind the wheel and closed out the winter chill, my thoughts still swirling around the woman on the beach. Our encounter had felt normal, or at least what I thought normal was supposed to feel like. Was that what it felt like to be no one? A simple existence seemed the farthest thing from my grasp right now.

Movement on the stairs caught my gaze and I slumped behind the wheel as Juniper came into view. She crossed the road and walked towards town, Ziggy out in front with his tail wagging. I stared after her, wondering what was underneath her baggy coat.

Fuck, I was such a dumbarse. Going after the first pair of tits I came across wouldn't solve anything. If she didn't know who I was now, then it was only a matter of time. The tabloids had already started reporting my supposed disappearance, and when those vultures got a whiff of blood, it was game on.

Once she was gone, I turned the key in the ignition and brought the car to life. The engine purred despite the cold, and I shifted into first gear. Peeling out of the carpark, I turned away from the tiny blip of Point Mambie and made my way up to the bluff.

The beach house I was renting was five bedrooms, three bathrooms, two living spaces, an outdoor entertaining area, an open-plan kitchen, but at least it was an anonymous waste of money. No one knew I was here and the solitude was exactly what I wanted. It was just me, the sky, and the ocean beyond.

The garage door closed behind me just as the first raindrops began to fall. I hadn't been up this early in a long time. Eight a.m. was a normal time for most people, but for a night owl like me, it was about the hour I fell into bed, but I didn't feel tired.

The house was still unfamiliar. Finding my way into the kitchen, I picked up my mobile phone and checked the screen. The last thing I wanted was a direct line to the outside world, so I'd left it behind. Bad news was, the world wasn't ready to let me have a little fucking peace and quiet just yet. While I'd been wandering on the beach, Josh had been blowing up my phone with messages.

Josh was the lead guitarist in the band I fronted, Beneath. The band that was the cause of all my current problems. Bad boy rock stars who were as shallow as a bottle of five-dollar vodka. We were known for getting blind drunk and trashing hotel rooms, getting stupid tattoos and pulling dangerous stunts—you name it, we'd probably done it. We'd been boys who'd had a bunch of money thrown at us and grew into men who didn't know any different. Like that was an excuse.

Sebastian Hale was good for a night of wild times, fucking in public places, fucking in all kinds of positions, screwing with authority, paying for damages, paying for everyone's booze and blow, getting my cock sucked for my trouble, but at the end of it all, I was alone. A year ago, I was all over it, revelling in the destruction and the quick fucks, but now... Shit, I didn't even know.

Glancing at my phone, I scrolled, my mood growing worse and worse with each text.

_You can't just leave, man. What about the band?_

_We've got a fucking album to release, you arsehole._

_There's three other guys in this band, or have you forgotten?_

_You better be fucking dead._

_You want to tank your career, fine. Don't fuck with ours._

Gritting my teeth, I typed in a reply and hit send. _I'm coming back._

A few seconds later, I got a reply. _When?_

Rage pooled in my gut and I flicked the phone onto silent and tossed it onto the counter. When? Fucked if I knew.

Striding into the living room, I draped myself over the couch and grabbed my laptop, but my email was in worse shape.

I scowled at the screen as image after image loaded. My face had been crudely Photoshopped into meme after meme by a bunch of callous keyboard warriors. There I was _Beneath_ a rock, a hot girl, a sewer grate, a parked car, a drum kit... It kept going on and on.

The headlines on the gossip sites were worse. _Is Beneath over? The rock star life finally catches up to wild child, Sebastian Hale._

Note to self, don't set up a Google alert for your name when you want to disappear.

"Arseholes!" I slammed the laptop closed and glared out the windows at the storm that'd rolled in while I'd been dragged into the latest episode of Beneath chaos.

Rain lashed the floor-to-ceiling glass, arcing across the deck and obscuring the million-dollar view of the ocean beyond.

This was what I'd always dreamed of—playing music for millions of people, touring the world, my bank account etched with multiple zeros. I snorted and rubbed my eyes. Give a kid a million-dollar advance and watch him spiral out of control.

We could really fucking play some great music— _I could play_ —but the fame had killed it. My life was empty. It wasn't about the music or the message anymore. All people were interested in was what crazy stunt we were going to pull next. Sebastian Hale, bad boy. _Mother's, lock up your daughters._

The only person in the world who didn't seem to know me was the mysterious Juniper. At least for now.

I didn't know a thing about her, but if that was it, it was more than enough. She had zero expectations of who I was supposed to be. This was a clean slate; I could be real with her.

But she was just a random woman I'd crossed paths with on a beach, and I was just a guy passing through.

Reaching for the bottle of scotch on the coffee table, I curled my fingers around the neck, the glass cold against my skin. I hesitated, my lip curling. After a moment, I sat back on the couch and pushed my laptop aside. Getting drunk would only stall the inevitable. I'd forget for one night, then tomorrow my head would split open.

Shit, I was a mess. How the hell did I get here?

## 3

# Juniper

The storm had cleared by the next morning.

Walking down the main street of Point Mambie, I stepped over a puddle and sighed. Everything was empty. The road, the shops, my heart— _everything_.

"Hey Juni!" a thick-accented voice shouted. "What's shakin', babe!"

Turning, I smirked at Hugo, who was leaning his head out the window of Rizzo's Pizza Bar. His apron was smeared with tomato sauce and his black, curly hair was in more disarray than usual. It could only mean one thing—he'd been inventing again.

"What's on the menu today?" I asked, leaning against the siding.

"Leftover surprise," he said with a grin. "Wanna try some?" He slapped a slice of something pizza-shaped onto a paper plate and thrust it towards me. "Mozzarella, olives, chicken, ham, egg, onion, capsicum, pineapple, and pepperoni, all on a crusty base with Rizzo's world famous tomato sauce. _Mmm_..." He sniffed the air. "Smells good, huh?"

"You really need to work on the name." He and Vanessa were a match made in heaven if you asked me. They were just the right amount of crazy to be complimentary.

"I could call it 'The Lot.'"

"There you go, better already." I glanced at the pizza and wrinkled my nose. It wasn't the only thing he needed to work on. "Well, I've gotta get back to the shop."

"Hey, if you see Ness, tell her to swing by for a taste." He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

"Ugh." I rolled my eyes and laughed. "I'm so not saying that to her."

"Later, Juni."

I waved and made my way down the footpath towards the Page Break Bookshop, wondering what I should do with the slice of pizza. Throwing a look over my shoulder, I saw Hugo had disappeared back inside.

"Juniper."

My heart fluttered and I turned, my gaze smacking right into the mystery beach guy, Sebastian. I'd thought he would've already blown through town, chased by yesterday's storm, but here he was, all broody and smouldering. I stood awkwardly, my tongue tied in more ways than one.

He looked a little more rumpled and less fancy with his knit navy jumper hugging his broad chest and his torn, black jeans tucked into his sloppy combat boots. He smiled, and his dusky brown hair fell into his eyes. _Oh fuck, his eyes_.

I was melting despite the cold, and my hands began to tremble, the pizza dangerously close to falling onto the footpath.

I swallowed hard before squeaking, "Hey. I, uh, I didn't recognise you without the beanie."

"It's not as cold today."

"Nope..." _Good one, Juniper. Crash and burn._

Sebastian raked a hand through his messy locks and glanced at the pizza in my hand. "Nice breakfast."

"Ah, that's an upset stomach waiting to happen." I grimaced and tossed the paper plate and its contents into the closest bin. "The guys at the pizza shop have a thing for experimentation."

"At this hour?"

"It seems to keep them out of trouble."

We stared at one another, neither one of us knowing what to say. Was he shy? By the looks of him, he didn't seem the type. I mean, guys who look like perfection sculpted from marble never had problems scoring in social situations. Didn't they?

"So, what's going on?" I said breaking the silence. "I thought you would've been on the road to someplace better by now."

He gave me a quizzical look. "What makes you say that?"

"Point Mambie isn't exactly the place people stick around in."

"You stuck," he noted.

"Out of necessity."

"So you'd rather go someplace else?"

Our conversation was starting to tread in the too personal column and I shrugged.

"I'm going to hang around for a while," he said, offering me an explanation. A vague one, but at least it was something. "I need some quiet."

The trembling in my hands moved to my heart, but not before taking a detour between my legs. "Well, you'll get a lot of that around here."

"No Ziggy this morning?"

Thinking about the moment we met on the beach, I flushed. "He's, uh, with his real mum today." I glanced down the street, wondering why I was such a freak. "I've got to get to work."

"Sure." He looked a little disappointed and the fluttering in my chest intensified. "Hopefully I'll see you around."

I smiled awkwardly, wishing I had half the confidence Vanessa had. If my wiring wasn't all scrambled, maybe I would've asked him out to lunch or talked about more interesting things than a dog who loved to bodysurf. But Sebastian had said hopefully...

Turning, I strode the five meters to the bookshop and pushed the door. The bell rang above my head and the sound of Ziggy's tail thumping against the counter mixed with my irregular heartbeat. Chaos. _Utter chaos_.

"You need to talk to your husband," I said to Vanessa as I shucked off my coat. "He's determined to give half the Point food poisoning." When she didn't reply, I turned to find her frowning at me with her hands welded onto her hips. "What?"

"Don't walk in here like all that outside was nothing," she stated.

"I threw the pizza into the bin, any sane person would've." I screwed up my nose and leaned down to scratch Ziggy behind the ears.

"Fuck the pizza!" she exclaimed. "I saw who you were talking to!"

I straightened up and the trembling returned. I was already crushing on him, and we'd only had two awkward conversations totalling about ten minutes. Sebastian, the mystery guy who was an enigma all wrapped up in one sexy as fuck package. It was like he didn't know how to talk to people and me... Well, I was just waiting for the moment he left. Everyone did sooner or later, just ask my dad.

"He was just some guy I ran into on the beach yesterday," I said. "I guess he's looking to stay a couple of days."

"Some guy?" Vanessa rolled her eyes. "You're clueless, you know that?"

"Why are you mad at me?" I demanded. It was way too early for an existential crisis.

"That guy is Sebastian Hale," she stated. When I shrugged she flapped her arms in the air. " _The_ Sebastian Hale."

"Good for him?"

"Juniper!" she shrieked.

" _What?_ "

"Sebastian Hale is the lead singer of the hottest rock band in the entire fucking world, _Beneath_. How could you not know this?"

I screwed up my nose, not understanding the hype. "I don't listen to the radio?"

"Ugh, you're impossible. Give that man a guitar and a microphone and he'll make you cream in your undies."

"That guy?" I glanced out the window for another look to verify Vanessa's outrageous claims, but Sebastian was gone. Pressing my nose against the glass, I couldn't see him down the footpath either.

"Yes, that guy!"

"I mean, he's good-looking, but he didn't induce an orgasm." It was a blatant lie because I'd felt my undies quiver.

"You thought about it, admit it!"

I narrowed my eyes and turned away from the window. "A little."

"Open your heart a little, Juniper. It wouldn't hurt to spread those legs a bit, either."

"Vanessa!"

"Do me a favour and stop pretending. You were crushing all over him."

I glanced at Ziggy, but he'd gone back to sleep. _Traitor_.

"I'm not a groupie," I said. "If he's some hot rock star guy, then getting tangled up with him is the last thing I should be doing. Musicians are bad news."

Vanessa sighed and leaned against the counter. "Not all musicians are going to throw themselves off cliffs, you know."

I ignored her and tidied the stack of books that needed to be photographed before listing them for sale online. It was a nervous gesture to disguise the fact my heart was in overdrive. A guy like that, interested in a nobody like me? Definitely not in the long-term kind of way. Short term? I felt sick. I never understood how people could sleep around, sharing bodily fluids like it was nothing. Was that Sebastian's gig? Did he play music as well as women?

"He's the guy who rented the beach house," I said, putting two and two together. "If he's here, then he wants to be alone. Guys with profiles like that like their privacy. You can't tell anyone he's here, Ness."

"Wasn't planning on it," she said with a wicked smile.

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what you think it means."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You're hopeless, Juniper Rowe." She clucked her tongue and raked her fingers through her blonde locks, fixing her braid.

"Yeah," I muttered. "We've already established that."

The name Beneath sounded kind of familiar. The laptop sat beside me and I glanced at it, the screen conveniently open on a new browser page.

"I'm going to search for him on YouTube," Vanessa declared as if she could read my mind. She lunged towards the laptop and I snapped it closed.

"No way!"

"Juniper!"

"I don't want to go down that rabbit hole."

She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why not?"

"With my dad, it was a persona," I explained, gesturing towards the computer. "All that is smoke and mirrors. It's clever editing. It's autotune and producing. It's a product, not a person."

"Then go find out who he is."

I froze. It was a simple enough statement, but the thought of following through terrified me. "And that's why you're still here, captaining a sinking ship," Vanessa muttered, picking up the digital camera.

Tears pricked in my eyes and I sank into the chair behind the counter. Everything rushed at me and I began to crack under the pressure. My dwindling bank account, the declining sales, the depression that came with impending financial ruin—not to mention all the personal stuff I was shoving into the background.

"Oh, Juni... I'm sorry," Vanessa cried, her expression falling. "I didn't mean—"

"You're right." I dabbed my eyes with the cuff of my jumper. "The ship _is_ sinking."

"You're a fighter, though. Don't forget that."

"Yeah..." _But being a fighter didn't pay the bills._ I picked up the first book on the pile and leaned it against the exposed brick wall behind me. "Let's throw out a few floaties, huh?"

Vanessa smiled and aimed the camera. "We'll have the sexiest used books on the internet. People will be begging for more."

I admired her enthusiasm, but as I glanced out the window at the empty street beyond, I couldn't help but wonder was the end in sight for the Point Break Bookshop?

## 4

# Sebastian

The Mariner's Arms seemed nice enough on the outside.

It was a typical Australian pub with all the trimmings—bar, bistro, gaming machines, a TAB for all your small-town betting needs, and built-in playground because it was better to dump your kids on a plastic slide than leave them in the car outside.

I nursed my beer, the sound of pokie machines bleeping and ringing in the background. Above, the TV was tuned into some greyhound race on the other side of the state, while a group of weathered old men scratched their salty beards and picked at a bowl of peanuts. One guy cursed as his dog ran second to last, and I shifted so I was facing the bistro.

A group of guys were eating dinner and throwing back beers like there was no tomorrow.

"She's always on my back about getting married," one dude said. "You're not getting any younger, she says."

"I don't want to get married," another guy said. "Why get stuck with one pussy?"

"Yeah," the third guy added. "There are too many birds out there waiting to be fucked."

I snorted and downed half my beer. I'd ventured out for this? Slot machines and morons with small dicks? I was one to talk—I'd fucked with the best of them. A different hole for every night if I wanted. I'd used so many women, I didn't even know where to start counting.

Looking at those guys, I saw myself—a womanizer, no-hoper, dirty, and downright stupid. Did I have a saving grace, because right now the hole was so deep I couldn't see the top.

Thinking about Juniper, I downed another mouthful of beer as my cock twitched. I wasn't here for a conquest. I shook my head, but it didn't matter. She was firmly lodged in my brain and there was nothing I could do to shake her.

Glancing at the bistro again, I realised I didn't belong here, either. Not with myself, not with those arseholes talking about easy pussy, and not where I'd come from.

"You know who I'd love to see wrapped around my cock?" the guy closest to my position said. "That sweet little Juniper Rowe."

I tensed and tightened my grip on my glass, forgetting my shame spiral. _Juniper Rowe_.

"Man, she'd never let you anywhere near her pussy," the marriage phobia guy declared.

"Wanna bet? Before summer rolls around, I'll blow my load in her." His arsehole friends started to laugh. "You don't think I can do it?"

"No fucking way."

"You're screwed in the head, Robbo. You've got better odds sucking your own cock."

Rage pooled in my gut as I zeroed in on Robbo and memorised his face—tallish, built, shit brown hair, sloppy jumper with a surf logo on it. Couldn't be a day over twenty-five. If he kept talking about her like she was a thing to be abused, then he wouldn't be looking like that for long.

"She's into books and shit," someone said.

"So?" Robbo asked. "Don't need a book to find where to put my dick, arsehole."

"She's too good for you, man. She owns her own business. What do you do?"

" _Shut up_."

Once, I would've followed that arsewipe Robbo outside, put my fist in his face, bloodied him up, and warned him off what was mine. Now, I just sat there knowing if I got into a fight, I'd be outed and my latest indiscretion would be splashed all over the tabloids. _Missing rocker Sebastian Hale arrested for assault_.

I stared at the beer in my hand and rubbed my thumb over the condensation on the outside of the glass. S _he likes books and owns her own business_. There was a bookstore on the main street, wasn't there?

"Let's bet on it," Robbo said. "I bag Juniper by the end of winter, or..."

"You have to eat your own cum," one of his friends said. "A whole tub of it."

I rolled my eyes and finished my beer. He'd be eating more than his own sperm before I was through with the guy because now he had competition. The spark when I first saw her on that fucking beach had caught me, and I couldn't let it go. What if she was the fate I was looking for? She didn't know me; I didn't know her. Everything would be real, right?

I needed all of those things right about now.

First thing in the morning, I was finding Juniper Rowe.

My palms were itching. People always said it was a sign you were about to get lucky, and considering I was standing outside a shop called the Page Break Bookshop, I hoped it was a good fucking omen.

My heartbeat sped up and I glanced up and down the street like a fucking weirdo. I was nervous. Sebastian Hale, fucking rock star, was _nervous over a girl_. Pussy.

Pushing open the door, a bell rang above my head, and I stepped into a pocket of warm air. I unbuttoned my coat and glanced around, pausing when I saw a woman behind the counter glare at me. Her blonde hair was pulled away from her face, giving her a severe headmistress look, and something told me I was about to get a warm welcome.

_She knew who I was_. I could see it written all over her face and I hesitated. If she knew, then Juniper probably knew, which threw a wrench into my screwed up fantasy.

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. "Do you work here?"

"Nope," the woman declared, "I hang out here. There's a difference."

Great, another mouthy blonde. She reminded me of Vix, the balls to the wall road manager who rode with Beneath when we were out on tour. The same Vix I flipped off on my way out a week ago. This had to be karmic retribution.

I bit my tongue and glanced around the shop. Books lined every available space and the air had that musty used paper smell. _She likes books_... I was here now, so I may as well just go for it.

"I'm looking for Juniper," I said.

"I'm Vanessa," the woman said. "And Juniper isn't here right now."

"Is she coming back?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't know. Is she?"

Like I said. _Mouthy_.

Movement under the counter drew my gaze downward and I grinned as Ziggy poked his head around the corner. Kneeling down, I held out my palm and the little dog bounded forward, his tail wagging behind him.

"Traitor," Vanessa muttered as I scratched him behind the ears.

"Hey boy," I murmured. "Been for any more swims?" His big brown eyes stared back at me and part of me wished I'd been born a dog rather than a human. Life seemed so uncomplicated when it was all about sleeping, eating, and bodysurfing.

Behind me, the door opened and I heard the bell ring. I looked over my shoulder and found Juniper staring at me and Ziggy, her mouth slightly agape.

I rose to my feet, my gaze raking over her body. She wasn't wearing her coat today, and her tight knit jumper left little to the imagination. Her style seemed my kind of cool—grey acid wash jeans, black lace-up boots, and a black jumper.

I swallowed hard and tried not to let my eyes linger too long on her breasts before meeting her gaze. Freckles dusted over her flushed cheeks, and her green eyes punctured right through my mask and into my soul—well, it felt like it anyway. It was like she was searching for something, but that made two of us.

Her cheeks were a sexy shade of red—crimson, scarlet, ruby—and a lazy smile crept onto my lips. She was attracted to me and the thought was electrifying. It wasn't anything new, but this time it was different. I looked at Juniper and wanted to be with her, not in her for a limited time.

"Hey. Wanna go for a walk?" I asked, my gaze locked with hers.

"I, uh..."

Vanessa clucked her tongue and shoved her friend forward. "She'd love to."

I rose my eyebrows at the blonde. One second she was roasting me, the next... _Who knew_.

"I'll just grab my coat." Juniper bit her bottom lip before turning to the rack and plucking a leather jacket from the hook at the back.

Ziggy yipped and danced back and forth, thinking he was about to get lucky.

"Ziggy, no," Vanessa said, wrapping her fingers through his collar. "They need some alone time."

Ignoring her, I held open the door for Juniper, my eyes firmly locked onto her every movement. She stepped past me, the breeze fluttering her hair and sending her sweet scent in my direction. She smelled like some kind of flower, mixed with the tangy hint of oranges.

Outside, we stood on the footpath and for the first time in my miserable fucking existence, I didn't know what to do. Give me a guitar, a stage with thirty thousand people in front of it, and I was in my element. Put me in a small town with a beautiful woman, and I was undone.

When I didn't move, she turned and shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, so let's walk."

She stepped out onto the road, not even checking for traffic, and walked towards the beach. I'd call her a thrill seeker, but I couldn't remember if I'd ever seen a car drive past. Beyond the main street was a line of green, some scrappy shrubbery, then the open ocean. That's where she was heading.

The wind was tearing up over the dune as we returned to the scene of our first meeting—albeit at the opposite end of the cove—and the moment my boots sunk into the sand, I felt this incredible sense of freedom.

Glancing at Juniper, I smiled.

## 5

# Juniper

He was looking at me like I was something to eat.

Honestly, it was kind of terrifying. The metaphoric storm was swirling in my direction and I didn't know what I'd done to deserve his attention. Had I somehow gained points for being the last person on Earth who knew who Beneath was? Vanessa seemed to think so.

"Maybe that's why he came back to talk to you," she'd said yesterday.

He hadn't come back to talk to me. The Point was so small it was inevitable we'd cross paths. He hadn't sought me out... until this morning. ' _Wanna go for a walk?'_

I breathed in the salt air, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore only adding to the storm analogy. Everything was swirling—the surf, my head, my heart—and my internal compass was going haywire. Magnetic north was shifting to an unknown location.

Sebastian wasn't talking. Glancing at him as we crossed the beach, I puzzled him out. I still didn't know much about the guy or his band, or even what kind of music they played—unless you count when Vanessa told me it was a rock band—but his broody silent routine didn't seem to fit. He was a singer, so I kinda assumed he'd be a cocky so and so with an axe to grind, but here he was all clammed up.

"Rock star, huh?" I blurted much to my embarrassment.

He smirked and began ambling down the beach, away from the town. The sand was wetter here and better to walk on, and wetter. Wetter. _Ugh_.

I squirmed and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket and fell into step beside him. The worn leather was soft to the touch, and smelt of polish and spice. It was a little too big for me, but like the bookshop was the last thing I had of Mum's, this biker jacket was the last thing I owned of Dad's.

"So you do know who I am," Sebastian said after a while.

"Vanessa filled me in." I shrugged, not sure why I was walking on a lonely beach with a millionaire bad boy rock star. Seemed like bad news to me, even with his fancy tailored coat.

"There goes my veil of anonymity," he drawled.

"You don't want people to know who you are?" I asked slightly confused.

"It's a performance." He didn't offer any more of an explanation.

I raised my eyebrows. I wasn't expecting _that_ admission. It also seemed genuine, but I didn't have any other point of reference.

"Does it bother you or something?"

"A little." Another left of centre tidbit.

"So you're saying there's more to all that than sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll?"

He laughed wryly and lowered his head.

"My dad used to say the same thing... " I went on, "about the performance."

"He's a musician?"

"Yeah. Blues. Played trumpet." I held up my hand, my index finger and little finger upright with my thumb resting against the two middle fingers. The universal sign for rock 'n' roll—the 'horns.'

"Cool." Sebastian laughed. "He still play?"

"Hard to play when you're dead."

He stopped and raked his hand through his tousled locks. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Don't worry about it." I paused and scuffed the toe of my boot in the sand. "It was a long time ago."

"Juniper..."

I looked up at him, but he'd closed off again, whatever he was going to say died in his throat before it ever reached his lips. On cue, my gaze lowered to his mouth. He could sing, huh? Sing and kiss, I bet.

"So you just want some peace and quiet, huh?" I asked, watching him closely.

"Something like that."

"Cool."

He frowned. "That's it?"

"Yeah." I made a face and started walking again. "It's your life."

He was beside me again, his presence infiltrating all my senses. "Ever wake up one day and realise you've taken the wrong path?"

I thought about my parents, and how things were in the wake of their deaths. The bookshop, my mum's declining health and sudden passing, my isolation, all of it.

"I suppose," I replied. "But I didn't choose the path I'm on."

A wave zoomed up the beach and I dodged to the side, weaving past Sebastian to avoid it. He didn't move. Instead, he just let the water splash over his boots.

"Is this what we're going to do?" I asked, watching the wave recede into the ocean.

"What?" He blinked, the dazed and confused look not suiting him at all. I tried to imagine him up on a stage, a guitar in his hands, but couldn't place him.

"Go for long walks on the beach?" A grin spread across my face and I laughed, scraping my hair away from my face. "Long walks on the beach with a rock star? Yeah right."

Sebastian looked bewildered for a moment before he let out a laugh of his own. "When you put it like that, it does sound kinda mental."

"Kinda?" I kicked at a pile of seaweed.

"Okay, real fucking stupid."

"So why am I here? Why not just walk on the beach yourself? Where's your bandmates? Your friends? Your family? Why aren't they here?"

He froze and I immediately cursed under my breath. _Great going, Juniper. Go straight in with the hard questions. He's a guy who probably had his life raked over the hot coals known as 'the media' twenty-four-seven, and here you are playing good cop, bad cop._

"Okay, here goes. You asked for it." He turned to gaze at me with those stormy eyes of his. "I think you're gorgeous and kinda awesome. You don't care who I am and fuck, I like it. That's why I'm here with you."

I tilted my head to the side and tried to calm my galloping heart. He thought I was gorgeous? He was hot as sin and he thought... Oh fuck, I was in trouble. Who the hell was this guy?

"Cool." I shrugged.

"Cool?" he scoffed. "That's all I get?"

"Why? Are you used to groupies falling to their knees for you or something?" I gasped and slapped my hand over my mouth. "I didn't mean for that to come out."

He laughed and wiped at his eyes. "Oh, fuck."

Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. There he was, in all his manly glory, all sex and rock 'n' roll, and he was so easy to talk to, and... it just came out.

I pressed my palms against my flaming cheeks and moaned.

"Oh hell," he said, shaking his head. "Where did you come from, Juniper Rowe?"

I didn't know what to say to that. I was too caught up in the storm brewing inside my heart. The storm named Sebastian Hale. I just hoped I didn't capsize.

Sinking down onto the sand, I tilted my head away, hiding the rising colour in my cheeks. He sat beside me, close enough that his body shielded me from the wind, but far enough away that he didn't touch me.

"So how did you find me anyway?" I asked, trying to take my mind off the sexual buzz in the air. "Should I be worried?"

His eyebrows rose. "You're asking me this now?"

"I can take care of myself," I boasted. "I've been doing it a long time."

"Uh..."

"It's creepy, isn't it?" I moaned.

"Not exactly."

"How does that work?" I turned to face him, waiting for an explanation. "There is no partially creepy. Just full or empty."

"Full or empty?"

"Yeah. So which is it?"

Sebastian hooked his arms around his knees and stared out over the water. "I heard some douchebags talking about you at the pub."

My smile faded and I shook my head. _Typical_. What rumour was doing the rounds this time? Dad, Mum, their poor daughter, or my frigid, lonely existence? "I bet they were," I muttered.

Sebastian frowned at me. "You're not bothered by it?"

"Depends what they were saying. It can vary."

He snorted. "Some guy named Robbo made a bet with his mates that he could bag you before summer rolls around."

"What?" I blinked. That was a new one.

"Say the word and I'll make sure—"

"Ugh," I declared, cutting him off. "If that arsewipe comes near me, I'll rip his balls off."

" _Ouch_."

I sighed and dug my fingers into the sand. Well, our walk had taken a turn. Either he'd just realised I was a freak, or he wanted to look out for me. The first was more plausible than the second.

"Why are you still here?" I asked, studying his profile. "I know you said... I guess I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"No one talks with me like this," he replied. "Like I'm just a regular guy. It's always..." I nodded, understanding without him having to say the words. "An illusion."

Sebastian pushed to his feet, dusted the sand off his arse, then held out his hand towards me. Staring up at him, I almost hesitated. Last time, he was just a stranger on the beach, but now I felt like I knew him a little. Not the Sebastian that fronted a rock band, but _Sebastian_ , and I kinda liked him a whole lot.

So this time, I put my hand in his.

He smiled as he pulled me up, his touch burning into my flesh. His fingertips were rough, probably calloused from playing guitar, and I could feel the strength he held in all those muscles. From the look in his eyes, I weighed nothing and everything all at once.

He held onto me for a little longer than he needed before he let his fingers slip away from mine.

"Cool," he murmured.

"Cool?"

"Yeah." His lips curved upward and my heart fluttered. " _Cool_."

## 6

# Juniper

Everything was spinning. Spinning, fluttering, and juicing up. _Big time_.

Sebastian and I had parted on the beach, and it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other so I could make it back to the Page Break Bookshop in one piece.

I'd never met someone so _electric_. He was all over the place, but I could see the depth in his heart. He hadn't tried to hide who he was, which made me wonder if this was a test. Real seemed to be something he craved beyond all else. I understood, but why was a guy like him unsatisfied with life? It was a real mind-bender.

I was falling for the guy in an annoying insta-love kind of way and it didn't make any sense. I didn't know him, I didn't understand him, and I certainly didn't know if I could trust him.

_Love isn't supposed to make sense, Juniper._ My mum's words came back to me like a punch in the gut. She should know—she died of a broken heart and her philosophy made the least sense of all.

Finally, I pushed through the front door of the shop and Vanessa shot to her feet, an expectant look on her face.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I need to go upstairs," I fired back as I strode past the counter.

"Hey! I need to have my curiosity scratched!"

So did I. Darting between the music and self-help shelves, I leaned over the bannister. "You can go home if you want."

Her mouth fell open in shock. "You're closing the shop?" I never closed the shop, not even when a storm was raging outside. It was only one p.m. for crying out loud.

"Let's face it, Ness, no one's coming in. No one at all." I held up my hands in defeat, then took the stairs two at at time. Ziggy raced behind me, his claws clacking on the floorboards.

"He's staying at your house tonight!" Vanessa yelled. "Oh, and I'll lock up the shop. _Thanks Vanessa_." She imitated my voice and I chuckled.

I opened the door to my apartment and the little dog zoomed through the opening and leapt onto the couch just as my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a text from Vanessa. _Debriefing tomorrow_.

I let out a frustrated cry and began pacing back and forth. Ziggy watched me with his big brown eyes, his head tilting from one side to the other.

"Don't look at me like that," I cried.

He licked his lips.

"I know, I know." I threw my hands into the air. "I'm agonising over a guy I've only just met. Doesn't help that he's meant to be this famous fucking rock star. In what world is that a reality?"

Ziggy barked, his tail thumping on the couch.

"You're no help, you know that," I said to the little dog. "You just know you get the special mincemeat for tea when you stay over."

I flopped down next to him and fisted my hands in my hair. "He's got me all worked up," I told the dog. "He probably does that to everyone, right? I wish I didn't know who he was, then this wouldn't be so hard. You know musicians are bad news."

Ziggy rested his chin on my knee.

"He'll leave eventually," I whispered. "They all do."

_Maybe he won't_ , a little voice said in the back of my mind. Stupid hope.

Looking at my laptop on the coffee table, my palms began to itch. What was the harm? A little Google here, a little Google there, and I'd have a better picture of the mysterious Sebastian Hale.

I glanced at Ziggy. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

Snatching up the computer, I set it on my lap and opened it. I typed 'Sebastian Hale' into the search engine and thumped my finger on the enter key. The screen changed, listing the millions of hits his name returned. There he was in all his broody glory and I couldn't look away. I'd been truly sucked into the vortex.

Switching over to the image results, I peered at him with greedy eyes. There he was on red carpet after red carpet, on stage with his guitar, some promotional photos of the band, and the inevitable paparazzi photos with a string of women on his arm. A blonde in that one, a brunette in another, an actress on his arm at some awards show, a leggy model at a film premiere, a Hollywood heavyweight at the fucking Oscars—the list went on.

_Sebastian Hale is an Australian singer/songwriter and guitarist. He is best known as the front man of rock band, Beneath. Hale has received multiple awards for his work with Beneath, including seven Grammy nominations..._ The rest of his bio was cut off.

Below that was his date of birth and net worth, which made my eyes water. He was barely thirty, successful, and rich up to his eyeballs. There was a line of video results—all music clips—and then images and articles. There he was with his bandmates, in a fashion shoot, some paparazzi shots at an airport, and red carpet events with a string of beautiful women on his arm. One was more prominent than the others, and morbid curiosity won out. I clicked on an image and her name came up. _Mallory Grigorio_.

Mallory Grigorio, American pop star, model, and aspiring actress. Everyone knew who she was—even I'd heard her name and I didn't even turn on the fucking radio. She was beautiful, perfect, rich, and powerful. _That_ was Sebastian Hale's on and off again girlfriend. The love of his life. The next ultimate power couple of the music world.

It was the perfect story, really. The sultry pop princess tames the wild rock star.

Scoffing, I shook my head. Maybe when Sebastian said he thought I was gorgeous, he meant in a little sister kind of way. Like, you're so gorgeous, you're cute as a button. Besides, awesome was something you called friends, not someone you were romantically interested in. I bet he didn't call the women he liked to fuck awesome. I _especially_ bet he didn't call Mallory Grigorio awesome.

I stared at her photo, studying her long legs, her glittery dress, her perfect makeup, her luxurious chestnut hair, and felt like a lump of coal. Their fans even had a bloody name for them: Sebory. Ugh, it sounded like a luxury Italian fashion brand, the kind with ten-thousand-dollar handbags.

Amongst all of these things—his fame, success, and string of wild romances—I was nothing. I was on the verge of losing everything and here he was, running away from love, money, fame, and the world.

On the outside, Sebastian had everything. He led this charmed life where he was talented, famous, rich, and loved. Why would he want to leave that? Was it really that empty? He got to write his own songs, play to people all over the world, travel to places I've only ever dreamed of, and never had to worry about how he was going to pay his bills.

People like that just didn't wake up and decide to throw away everything they'd worked so hard for. Not when there were so many people dying for their big break.

Something else was going on.

Digging deeper, my pulse began to race as I found out more about the man who I had run into on the beach. It'd only been a few days, but he'd already left a mark.

Beneath was a four-piece rock band that'd formed out of the western suburbs of Melbourne. They'd been an overnight sensation, their first song blowing up big time. Everything they put out raced up the charts and they made an art out of stealing hearts all over the world. Their fans were a legion, their tours were sold out, their albums reached the top of the charts, but they also had a darker side.

Notorious for leading the cliché rock 'n' roll lifestyle, they were no strangers to scandal. Assault charges, trashed hotel rooms, altercations with the media, sexual harassment suits, groupies for days and days, alcohol- and drug-fuelled parties... the list went on. Even with all the negative press, the bad boys of rock could do no wrong in their fans' eyes.

This was the band Sebastian fronted, but it wasn't the man I'd met on the beach. Or was it?

Doubt clouded my mind and I began to fret. Was I falling for the wrong guy? I threaded my fingers through the wiry hair around Ziggy's neck, glad the little Jack Russell was staying over tonight.

"Why didn't you stop me?" I asked him. "I was really starting to like the guy and I just had to go and internet stalk him."

Ziggy rolled onto his side and I patted his belly.

I thought about all the things I'd found out about Sebastian—his music, the violent altercations, the way he treated groupies, his string of glamorous girlfriends—and couldn't match him to the guy I'd walked with on the beach. A guy like that, in a place like this? It didn't mesh. What was he doing in Point Mambie?

"I need to get out of here." I closed the laptop with a sigh. "Wanna go for a walk, Zig?"

The little dog raised his head, his tail thumping on the couch. Of course he did.

Maybe Sebastian was on the right track when he said he was envious of the dog. I was starting to feel the same way.

The next day, Vanessa followed me around the shop with Ziggy on her heels. It was like a fucked up conga line. When she stepped on my heel for the third time, I'd had enough.

"Will you stop following me?" I exclaimed.

Ziggy yipped, sat up on his arse, and waved his paws in the air.

"You Googled him, didn't you?" Vanessa accused me.

My scowl intensified. "Is that what this is about?"

"How much of that stuff do you think is absolute bullshit?"

I shrugged.

"He likes you."

"It's impossible," I said. "He's a rock star with a hot girlfriend."

"A hot on-again, off-again girlfriend," she noted. "I don't see her here, do you?"

"But—"

"No buts, Juniper!"

"Do you know who Beneath are?" I demanded as we made it back to the front counter. "Do you know what they get up to?"

Vanessa blinked at me, lost for words for the first time in her life. Turning to the pile of envelopes and books, she ignored me and began packaging the books sold on eBay.

"Let me fill you in," I went on, "they trash hotel rooms, they get high, they get unsanitary tattoos, they fuck everything that walks, they get drunk out of their minds, they put people in hospital... They're the bad guys."

"Sebastian didn't seem that bad if you ask me." She pouted and shoved another book into a padded envelope.

"I can't do it," I said. "I can't be like..." I let the thought die on my tongue.

"Sounds like excuses to me."

"I'm not... I—"

"You said it yourself, it's a persona. An act. Is that who he really is, or is it for his record label?" She suggestively licked a stamp and slapped it onto the envelope. "Don't let Google cloud your judgement."

What was I doing? I was exactly like my mother. Quick to love, quick to fall, quick to give up everything on a slim chance. Quick to believe the fantasy. Vanessa was right, but if I let Sebastian in and he...

"Shit," Vanessa cursed, reading the fear in my expression. "Just because he's a musician, doesn't mean he's like your dad."

"I know." My shoulders sank. "It's just his life is so different from mine. He's like a ten and I'm a one."

"One being the best."

" _Vanessa_."

"Do you have his number?"

I shook my head. "That's bad, right? I'm available, but I have no way to reach him."

"I have a feeling he'll be back." Vanessa smiled, a naughty glint in her eyes. "Sooner rather than later."

## 7

# Sebastian

The ocean was calm today and the sky was showing signs of blue—a clearing storm.

I breathed in the crisp air, the tang of salt sticking to my lips, and thought about Juniper.

It was lonely out on the deck of the beach house, and as I watched a gang of seagulls wheeling overhead, I did my best to absorb the calmness of nature. It was so different being up here on my own without the constant noise of the city, the roar of a crowd, the snap of a camera lens, the screams of an excited fan. Out here I felt small. Insignificant. Like a regular guy who was attracted to a bright spark in the middle of his darkest hour.

I was buzzing from my encounter with Juniper. So much so, that when my phone rang, I picked it up.

The last thing I wanted to do was reconnect with the outside world, but she had me all hot and bothered. It'd been years since I'd met anyone remotely like her. So completely unimpressed by my rock star status, my looks, or my money. She spoke to me like a friend, a confidant, a—

"Seb."

I tensed when I heard Josh's voice.

"Seb, that better be you, arsehole."

He was my best friend. We'd gone to Uni together, dropped out of Uni together, gotten into trouble together more times that I could count, had each other's backs through thick and thin—he was the brother I'd never had. I could trust him, right?

"There's someone here," I began, not knowing how to explain it. "She might be able to help me."

"She?"

"Juniper."

"Juniper? What kind of hippie name is that? She a new age therapist or some shit? You coming back with a bag full of crystals?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, stilling the annoyance at the dismissive tone in his voice. "She's just a woman I met. She doesn't know who I am or what I've done. She can help me."

"Help you with what? You've got everything you need, man—money, fame, sex. Shit, you're doing what you love for a living and killing it. We all are."

"Yeah..."

I was beginning to feel bad for wanting something else out of life. I had more than most people, but that was the thing. I craved the days we were playing pubs and small venues across Melbourne, selling CDs for five bucks a pop that our drummer Damon had copied on his computer. The artwork was stencil graffiti a mate had done, which we just photocopied, and the title was scrawled on the disc in Sharpie. It was about the music and the rush of being on stage. We got paid in beer and applause and that was all we'd needed. That all changed the day Vix had walked into that gig at Cherry Bar and waved a million-dollar cheque under our noses. Now those crappy CDs were worth thousands on eBay.

"Let me get this straight," Josh said, "you disappeared in the middle of the fucking night, didn't leave a note, made us think you were ODing in a gutter someplace, then resurface only to start spouting off shit about some hippie chick who's going to save you? Do you know how that sounds? You blew us off over a bit of psychedelic pussy."

"No, I didn't." I pinched the bridge of my nose. _Why the fuck did I tell him about Juniper?_

"Sure sounds like it," he drawled.

"It's not about that," I fired back, the familiar feeling of rage rising in my gut. That hot, uncontrollable burst of raw energy, designed to obliterate everything in its path.

"Then what is it about?"

I gritted my teeth and paced back and forth along the deck, wondering if the best thing for everyone would be to hurl myself off the edge. Stopping, I looked over the railing. It was forty feet straight down onto solid rock. _Bad idea_.

Josh wasn't impressed by my lack of responce. "They'll find you eventually, and when they do..."

He didn't have to finish for me to get it. I didn't have to worry about the label so much as the media. The vultures would descend and tear everything apart. They'd sift through Juniper's life and publish every detail, no matter how small, and blow it out of proportion—they'd even make it up if they had to—all to sell magazines.

I should know. Apparently, I'd done just about everything in the name of shock value, even shit I'd never knew was possible. Google me and you'd get one hell of a fictional fucking novel.

Point was, if I cared about this woman—who I hardly knew—I'd leave her alone and go back and face the music.

"Seb, you have to come back," Josh went on. "The album's done. The label wants to set a release date and book a tour. If you're not here—"

"They can't do anything without me," I snapped.

"Dude, everyone's replaceable. _Everyone_."

"They can't replace the fucking lead singer."

Josh scoffed, "Uh, ACDC did. When Bon Scott died, they got Brian Johnson, and they're still one of the biggest bands in the world. You know why that worked?" It didn't matter if I knew or not, he was going to tell me anyway. "Bon Scott wasn't ACDC. All those guys were. Just like us, dude."

"Nice to know you've got my back." I gritted my teeth.

"You left, Seb. You didn't call, you didn't give anyone a heads up. You just disappeared and here you are a month later, fuck knows where, chasing a wet pussy. You'll just wind up ruining this poor girl's life when the press finds out. It's not like you're fucking a groupie. You're a dick, but not that much of a dick."

Ruining Juniper's life was the last thing I wanted, but I wasn't sure I had the strength to stop gravitating towards her. Real was something I'd lost sight of and was trying to find again. If Josh didn't understand that, then what was I even doing talking to the guy?

"What happened to you, man?" I demanded.

"What happened to me?" he scoffed. "Right now, I'm starting to agree with Vix."

"Agree with her all you like, Josh, but it won't change the fact that things have been shit for a long time. You wanna know why I left?"

"It doesn't matter why," he said. "I've got one word for you. _Contract_."

My jaw tensed and that full bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label I'd left on the coffee table started looking like a good option. Though I knew if I got drunk it wouldn't solve anything. The same problems that'd been plaguing me would still be there when I sobered up, only this time with a massive hangover attached.

Josh was right. If I cut out on the band for much longer, I'd be risking more than my career. I'd signed a contract that demanded more than just recording songs. It was doing press conferences, red carpets, tours, meet and greets, interviews, and photoshoots. Beneath had become a product, and my life—and my fucking soul—was legally bound to Galaxy Records.

"You've got maybe a month before it's too late," Josh continued. "Though I can't guarantee we'll be here when you get back. _If_ you get back."

" _Josh_." I slammed my fist down on the railing.

"Not this time, Seb."

Josh was the only person left in the world I could trust. I could tell him anything and he knew what to do, but things were different this time. I was going though something dark, struggling with something I'd never felt before, and suddenly I was the bad guy. I couldn't see a way out of the haze and for that I was the enemy. I'd needed his help and instead of holding out his hand, he'd shoved me out the door.

So here I was.

I didn't stick around to hear what else he had to say. I ended the call and threw my phone as hard as I could over the railing. The black rectangle sailed through the air, spinning over and over until it smashed on the rocks below. Pieces of glass and plastic went everywhere, scattering over the cliffside like a smear of blood and guts.

The only person who was reaching out was Juniper, but could I live with myself if I ruined her life too?

I didn't leave the beach house for three days. It was a tense standoff between me, the bottle of Johnnie, and my desire to see Juniper. Finally, I drove down to the beach on a reckless mission.

Seven a.m., in the middle of the winter, was the perfect time to catch the tail end of a fiery sunrise. Crimson, tangerine, and honey melted over the clouds, lightening the navy-blue blanket of night. And there, in the mysterious half-light of dawn I saw her, Juniper Rowe.

It was like I knew where she was without even realising. Call it what you wanted—gravity, fate, magnetism, some batshit crazy physics theorem—but it was a thing.

I stood on top of the sand dune, keeping myself hidden, stuck between venturing to the water's edge and turning around and going back. Doubts plagued my mind, invading the passion in my heart and strangling the hope she'd ignited.

Leaning against the railing, I watched her forge a path down the beach, Ziggy taking the vanguard on his extendable leash. The sight of her sent a wave of desire through my body and I gritted my teeth, wishing my cock would just settle the fuck down.

For the first time in my miserable life, I was holding back from taking what I wanted. It was shades of the guy I'd left behind years ago. The guy that existed before Beneath, but he was dead and gone and all that remained was a product. A fucking rock 'n' roll cliché.

I'd barely gotten to know her, but I could already see that Josh was right—I'd destroy her by just being Sebastian Hale.

I let out a strangled sigh and turned my back to the beach. It was time to go back... to the beach house at least.

Rock and roll may have saved my life, but the fame was killing me.

## 8

# Juniper

Turned out, Vanessa was dead wrong. Sebastian didn't come back.

I should've seen it coming. ' _You don't care who I am and fuck, I like it. That's why I'm here with you.'_ I was reading way too much into a throwaway comment. He was craving a moment of anonymity, not romance. _I was such fucking girl_.

Still, it didn't stop me from looking up his music on YouTube.

I typed in 'Beneath' with shaking hands, my heart thumping in my chest as the results came up. The first song was called 'Scream and Feel' and had over two million views. It was like that, huh? All knicker melting, orgasms, and rock 'n' fucking roll.

I put on my headphones, pressed play, and prayed for my soul.

As the first notes echoed into my ears, I held my breath. It had undertones of the hardcore music I'd listened through a pair of cheap earbuds as an angry teenager while my mum drowned in the blues and jazz that'd entwined the romance between her and my dad. Then the anger was softened by moments of Sebastian's murmuring voice, his whispers, and his lingering haunting tones. He sung about sex, love, and desire like they were sweet addictions. _Scream and Feel_.

I clicked on the next video, a live version of the same song filmed a few months ago at a concert in London. It was a professional clip, not some shaky recording from a mobile phone, and it captured an intense moment from a typical Beneath gig. There were four guys on stage—a drummer, another guitarist, and a bass player—but I only had eyes for one man. _Sebastian Hale_.

The black and white video caught every drop of sweat, every caress of his guitar, each word he crooned into his microphone. He bled his music all over the stage, laying his soul down for the fans in the crowd and they ate it up. They more than ate, they licked it off the dirty floor. If Sebastian sweated it out, they sucked it up. I couldn't blame them, really. He oozed sex.

The song reached its crescendo and he lifted his guitar strap over his head, the last notes of the song distorting as his fingers scratched over the strings. The guitar crashed into the amplifier, and the instrument snapped off at the neck as sparks erupted from the speakers, the wanton destruction doing something odd to my nether regions. Sebastian's muscles rippled as he turned and walked away, his hair dripping and his eyes full of passion. The ending of the song was like a raw orgasm tearing through my body, and I almost came on the spot.

I was transfixed.

That was the guy from the beach? _That_ was Sebastian? My hands shook and for a moment, I contemplated rubbing one out. He was so raw and powerful on that stage, no wonder—

"What are you doing?"

I slammed the laptop closed and pulled the headphones off my head as Vanessa appeared in front of me.

" _Nothing_."

"You're creaming your knickers," she accused.

"Am not!"

She pouted and snatched the laptop before I could yank it out of her reach. Opening the computer, she rose an eyebrow. "You've got it bad, Juni."

"I'm obsessed," I wailed, lowering my face into my hands. "I've totally lost it. How old am I? Seriously? _How old am I?_ "

"You're a red-blooded woman who wants to fuck the hottest rock star in the world, so I'd say at least legal."

I moaned again and slid underneath the counter, curling up next to Ziggy.

"It's natural," she went on, her voice muffled from on high. "Anyone with a brain can see that guy's animal magnetism is off the charts. I felt it the other day and he hadn't even turned on the charm."

"Is that why you pushed me at him?"

" _Duh_."

"It doesn't matter," I said, stroking Ziggy's back.

Vanessa's head appeared over the lip of the counter. "Why would you say that?"

"He didn't come back."

"Maybe he's busy," she offered.

"Maybe he's gone."

"Maybe you should go up to that beach house and find out."

I stared at her while a pile of fear-induced vomit percolated in my stomach.

Vanessa raised her eyebrows. "It's better than living with a massive 'what if' for the rest of your life."

"So what do I do?" I whispered.

"You get up off your arse, go up that hill, knock on his door, and let fate handle the rest."

"You say it like it's that easy."

She smiled and held out her hand. "It is."

Everyone knew the beach house of the bluff. The million-dollar house with its five billion bedrooms, marble bathrooms, and kitchen the size of my entire apartment. Knowing how much Sebastian was probably blowing on the rent made me feel sick. A week in that place was someone's yearly salary. Needless to say, I'd never been up here.

I didn't own a car—there wasn't any reason to considering everything in the Point was within walking distance—so I had to drag myself all the way up the hill. By the time I reached the top, I was puffing and my heart was galloping non-stop. The wind tore at my jacket and I burrowed deeper into the leather as I stared at the house in the distance.

It looked deserted and I thought about turning back. I almost did until I saw movement on the outside deck. Could he see me from here?

When I'd shot out of the Page Break, caught up in a fit of passion, I didn't think about how this would look. Turning up at Sebastian's house unannounced could be a step too far in the wrong direction. He probably had crazy fans knocking on his door, sending him suspicious packages, scaling his fences, and trying to sneak into his bedroom all the time.

Sighing, I stared at my boots. I already looked like a creep, so I may as well go the full distance, right? Resuming my walk, my heart sped up to the point where I felt like I was having palpitations.

A high fence surrounded the property, and as I wandered up the road, I noticed that the front gate was locked tight—of course it was—but inlaid in the concrete fence was a button labelled 'buzzer' and another labelled 'intercom.' I pressed the first one, jumping as the sound vibrated through my finger.

Nothing happened for a moment, so I shoved away my anxiety and pressed it again.

"Yeah?"

I froze at the sound of Sebastian's voice over the crackly intercom.

" _Hello?_ "

Snapping to attention, I pressed the intercom button. "He-hello?"

"Who is this?"

I pressed the button again. "It's Juniper."

For a long breath, nothing happened, then the gate began to slide back. Looking up the driveway, I said a prayer. It was like the millionth I'd said that day, and I hoped I wasn't annoying whoever was on the other end.

As I climbed the stairs, the front door opened, revealing a dishevelled Sebastian. His hair was wild, his eyes were dull, and his shirt was undone, revealing a sculpted six pack and pecs underneath. The same muscles I'd seen splashed all over the Google image search I'd done the other night. Oiled and glistening, dusted with sand...

My gaze was glued to his chest, and I felt heat sear my cheeks.

"You can look," he said, leaning against the doorframe, "I don't mind."

"I, uh..." I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze to meet his. "I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry."

His eyes narrowed and I turned, fleeing down the path.

"Juniper."

I stopped, his voice washing over me.

"I'm a mess," he said with a note of despair in his voice. "A real fucked up mess. You can stay, if that's what you want, but if you want to go... Well, I get it."

I thought about the guy I'd seen in that video, the tortured singer destroying that guitar. I thought about the lost guy I'd found on the beach—handsome, brooding, and looking for something to hold onto. I thought about both of them and I turned. _Oh God, I was playing with fire._

He smiled and pushed the door open wide enough that I could step through. I shimmied past him, my heart clenching as I felt a hint of warmth radiating from his body.

The door closed behind me, shutting out the chill, and Sebastian's fingers brushed against my arms as he helped me out of my jacket.

"Nice place," I said, looking around the foyer.

"It's okay," he replied, hanging my jacket on a hook by the door.

The fireplace was roaring in the living room. It was one of those gas heaters with the fake pile of logs, but it was cozy, and the deep leather couches with their oversized furry pillows and throw rugs looked inviting. Beyond the floor to ceiling windows, I could see the ocean heaving below and the cliffs rising to the left of the house, creating a spectacular view of the rugged Victorian coastline. No wonder it was dubbed 'Shipwreck Coast'.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Sebastian asked, watching me paw the leather couch. It was soft and buttery and stunk like money.

"I asked myself the same question," I murmured.

"You're different."

"I am?" Was it that obvious I was quivering in all my naughty places? Damn, I better up my game.

"You've been Googling me," he declared.

I nodded sheepishly. "I couldn't help it."

He shrugged, his hair falling into his eyes. "Don't blame you." I glanced at the empty bottle of alcohol on the kitchen island. Sebastian followed my gaze and snorted. "What a fucking cliché, right?"

He sank down onto the couch, his shirt slipping open. I couldn't help it when my gaze returned to his bare skin, following the line of hair that ran from his navel and disappeared under his jeans.

"So what do you want to know, Juniper? That's why you're here right?" He stretched out his arms. "I'm an open book."

A slightly tipsy open book.

"You're not going to make me sign an NDA?" I retorted.

He let his head fall back and laughed. "No. You Googled. There's no point in making you sign a gag order."

I didn't know whether it was a good idea to sit down or not, so I positioned myself in front of the fireplace. Warmth spread through my body, easing the chill that'd settled in my bones on the walk up here.

"Trashing hotel rooms?" I asked. "Assault charges? Drugs? Dare I go on?"

"Only a third of those things are true," he said, eyeing me. "And I never assaulted anyone who didn't deserve it."

"Is that who you are?" I asked. My hands were trembling, so I slid them into my back pockets.

"I was a dumbarse kid who got handed a million dollars and the key to the fucking kingdom," he drawled.

I hardly dared to ask the next question. "And now?"

"I wish I hadn't taken it."

Everyone wanted to be rich—desperate to make it and seduced by fame—but nobody really understood what it meant. I fancied Sebastian had an artist's soul. Every hurt struck him deep and every high was an addiction too sweet to hold onto for too long. Maybe he was missing someone in his life who understood and could roll with it. Someone who wouldn't drop him when he was smothered in the darkness. Someone who didn't care about the money or the fame and just cared about him. Maybe...

"Mallory Grigorio?" I asked.

He looked at me and smirked. "Jealous?"

"Is there any comparison?" I narrowed my eyes in a blatant challenge, but he just rolled his eyes. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

"Honestly, I haven't thought about her in a long time," he said. "We were never really together."

My heart leapt. "How does that work?"

"On-again, off-again. Good for the brand." He air quoted the last part. "It's hard to know the difference between real, fake, and convenient after a while."

"But you fucked her?"

His head rose and his frown deepened. "Why do you care?"

"You're really on a spiral, aren't you?"

"Tell me something about you, then," he shot back. "You know all my secrets, it's only fair I know some of yours."

"Apparently, all I know is the 'image'." I air quoted, much to his amusement. "I'm betting the real secrets are locked up tight. That's why you're here alone and not with your pop star girlfriend."

He snorted. "She's not my girlfriend."

"That's too bad for her, then."

Sebastian stared at me, his lips curving upward. He had this cheeky, devilish, dangerous look about him that had everything to do with cocks and vaginas.

He patted the space next to him on the couch, inviting me closer. I looked at him, then at his hand, knowing I'd be crossing a line if I got too close. Oh hell, I'd well and truly crossed it the moment I walked all the way up to this fucking house.

Rounding the coffee table, I sat beside him, careful not to get too close. His gaze followed my every move, those stormy eyes piercing straight through me.

"No more stalling, Juniper Rowe," he murmured. "Tell me something about you. Something from the spiral."

The fire was burning hotter, searing the skin around my heart, but Sebastian's true colours were more alluring than I'd expected. Right now, I would've told him anything, but he wanted to know something broken.

Love was darkness. Love was loss. I'd learned that at a young age, but here I was challenging a man at his darkest point, wanting all the things I'd learned would tear me apart. Wanting them with _him_.

"Once upon a time, my mum met my dad, they fell in love, and stuff happened," I began, staring into the fireplace. "Thirty years ago, they locked eyes across a crowded concert hall during the first Byron Bay Bluesfest. He was a trumpet player in a blues band and she was the fawning fan. Love at first sight, or something like it. Five years later, they were still together, so they got married and made me. Unfortunately, it was all downhill from there."

"What happened?"

Sebastian had this unnerving way of prying me open with a casual glance, so I didn't hesitate. "When I was five, my dad decided living wasn't for him, so he threw his trumpet and himself over a cliff. After that, Mum was never the same. Life was just a series of things she had to do. She lost her joy, her spark, and her ability to love."

He was tense, and his expression had changed. The air was heavier, charged with an energy that struck me deep.

"When I was twenty, she couldn't hold on any more," I said. "She died of a broken heart—otherwise known as cardiomyopathy—and I was on my own. Since it was just me and her, I had to deal with the fallout, the town gossip mill, and the contents of her will."

I couldn't lie. Life was tough with her. I grew up as a mother, caring for her, making sure she ate properly, budgeting her money, and ensuring the taxes were paid, and kept the roof over our heads. The only time we seemed to connect was when I worked after school and weekends at the Page Break Bookshop. Books and stories brought us together, and she left me with the last good memory we'd shared. That's why—when every bone in my body screamed at me to get out of Point Mambie and get a life—I couldn't give it up.

"Your bookshop?" Sebastian asked.

I nodded. "It was hers. _Ours_."

"That's why you're still here?"

"I'm still holding on to my dysfunctional parents, how sad is that?"

"It's not sad," he murmured. "It's human. You love them."

"Love is a terrible thing. It eats you up until there's nothing left, but people just can't keep themselves away."

Sebastian sat up, his shirt flowing open, and leaned towards me. "You really believe that?"

"I don't know."

"Then maybe you should let someone eat you up and see how it feels."

I was caught in his smouldering gaze and it took everything I had not to throw myself at him. I wanted him to eat me up. _Every last scrap_.

He straightened up, his gaze never leaving mine. Then he leaned forward, closing the space between us until I felt the flutter of his breath against my lips.

The scent of spice, leather, and whisky washed over me and I swallowed hard. He was on the tail end of a bender, that much was perfectly clear. If he kissed me now, he'd regret it and break my heart. It was already paper thin, and one tiny poke would send me into oblivion.

"I, uh..." I wet my lips, "I need some water."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed and he leaned back. "Help yourself."

I practically shot up from the couch and fled to the kitchen, the space freeing my lungs. I sucked in a deep breath and put my palms on the cool marble countertop, desperately chasing the heat of desire away.

There were glasses on an open shelf behind me, so I turned my back to the living room and took one down, my gaze resting on Sebastian's reflection in the mirrored splash back. A familiar pang of fear tugged at my heart. I was on the edge and he'd chew me up and spit me out.

A plastic bag sat on the counter and I peeked inside. A receipt was floating around, as was a packet of ibuprofen.

I didn't come here to sleep with him. Okay, so maybe a part of me hoped that's where this would lead, but it was reckless. Sebastian Hale couldn't give me what I wanted. He had this whole life in the spotlight and I didn't even know what I wanted to be. Without the Page Break, I didn't have anything, and considering how awful I was at keeping a little shop like that afloat, I was pretty terrible at life in general. Who was I to think I could capture a rock star's heart? His cock, maybe, but his heart? I was delusional.

Sighing, I filled a glass with water and grabbed the packet of tablets from the bag. He needed this more than I did.

As I rounded the end of the couch, he looked up, watching my approach.

I set the glass of water on the coffee table in front of him and put the packet of headache tablets beside it. It was deliberate and there was no way he could miss the fact that this was my closing statement on the almost-kiss subject.

His fingers wrapped around my wrist and I sucked in a sharp breath.

" _Juniper_."

"Drink this," I said, my voice wavering. "All of it. And take something for your headache."

"I don't have a headache."

"You will." My gaze shifted towards the front of the house, where my jacket was hanging by the front door. "And don't forget to eat something."

Sebastian tugged on my wrist, and before I knew what was happening, I was straddling his lap, my core pressing against his. I gasped, my lips brushing his cheek. My fingers ached as I imagined caressing his neck and burying them in his hair. I felt my arousal throbbing as his hands grasped my waist, our unexpected embrace fanning the growing lust inside my body.

It wasn't the only thing I could feel. He was just as excited as I was, and I started to tremble, wondering how I was going to take it all. Oh fuck, I was in trouble.

" _Juniper_." My name was a plea on his lips.

"Don't," I whispered, wanting nothing more than to devour the man underneath me, to feel him inside me, to taste him on my tongue, to strip him raw. "I don't think I could survive you."

His grip on my waist tightened and he grunted.

" _Sebastian_."

"I'm not that guy," he whispered. He leaned back just enough so he could look at me. "I'm sorry."

I nodded slightly, chiding myself for feeling disappointed that things hadn't gone farther. I was doing the right thing. If I'd let him touch me, it'd be a meaningless fuck and tomorrow I'd be just another notch among many. He wanted me for all the wrong reasons.

The moment I climbed off him, my body ached at the loss of his touch and I sighed.

"See ya," I said. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Turning, I left him on the couch, not knowing if it was a goodbye for now or goodbye forever.

I didn't go back to the Page Break straight away. I went to the beach and sat on the sand, watching the clouds swirl overhead, contemplating my life choices. It was raining over the ocean and sheets of water spilled from the sky, smudging across the horizon.

What did Juniper Rowe want? She didn't want 'just for now,' she wanted forever.

Sebastian Hale was just a storm blowing through town, leaving a path of destruction wherever he went. It wasn't like he meant to, it was just who he was. Beautiful, haunted, _magnetic_.

He was too much for a small-town girl like me and that was that.

## 9

# Juniper

The weather had turned again.

Outside, the rain pelted down in heavy sheets and battered everything in its path, hammering on the awning over the front of the shop. Vanessa and Ziggy appeared, rushing out of the weather and into the rectangle of dryness on the footpath. The little Jack Russell shook, spraying droplets in every direction.

"Ziggy!" Vanessa shrieked, holding out her hands in a futile attempt to shield herself.

I stood as the door opened, holding out a towel to catch Ziggy before he zoomed past. Grabbing his collar, I rubbed him dry, doing my best to ignore the melancholy ache in my chest.

Yesterday had been one intense mind-fuck. Sebastian was an enigma wrapped in an enigma, and I saw all kinds of parallels between him and my father. I hardly knew my dad, but from what I'd learned from other people, he was much the same. A different face for every occasion.

I roughed Ziggy up once more with the towel before letting him dart to his bed underneath the counter. Lazy sod.

"Hey," Vanessa said, hanging up her damp coat. "What shit weather, huh? How was yesterday?"

When she saw the look on my face, she didn't press. She was crazy, had zero filter, and was a lover of gossip, but when the cards were on the table and they were all shit, she knew exactly when to lock down the cone of silence.

"What happened?"

"Everything could've happened," I replied, folding up the towel. "I could've slept with him, but what then?"

"You'd have fond memories from the time you bagged a rock star for the night."

I shook my head. "No. I'm not like that. You know I'm not. I want all-consuming love, just like my mother did." I wanted a love that'd kill me. It was sad and masochistic and part of my DNA, it seemed.

Vanessa knew better than to press me when I had my head shoved this far into the sand. Instead, she asked, "Have you seen this?"

"Seen what?"

Snatching a magazine from her coat pocket, she opened it and handed it to me. It was bent in half and wrinkly from the rain, but it hadn't washed away the words from the article she wanted me to see. _Sebastian Hale: MIA. Has the rock star life finally ruined its leading man?_

"What am I supposed to do with this?" I asked, my throat constricting.

"They're offering a reward for information."

"I know I need the money, but _shit_." I tossed the magazine onto the counter in a huff. I was all over the place—my heart was battered and everything was spinning—but I'd never sell Sebastian out to a tabloid, even if the Page Break was on hard times. It just didn't mesh with my moral compass.

Besides, I didn't have any beef with the guy. He didn't do anything I didn't ask for. The moment I said no, he'd let me go.

"I didn't mean sell him out," Vanessa said with a pout. "I thought you might want to warn him."

"I'm sure he knows."

"If I recognised him, it's only a matter of time before someone twigs at the pub or the supermarket, or on the street corner. They ask for an autograph or a selfie, then it's straight to that rag for the ten grand."

"Ten thousand dollars?" My mouth fell open.

The most money I'd ever had at once was three grand and that was only in my bank account—I'd never seen that much money in person. Ten thousand dollars was nothing to big city people. That kind of cash flow could keep the Page Break afloat over this winter _and_ the next. Small-town blues, small-town rent.

"I didn't even know that was a thing," I added, my anger fading into something a little more like disappointment. "People sell each other out like that?"

"Gossip is big business," Vanessa said. "Anyway, I'm sure you're right. He probably knows what he's doing. I mean, he must get followed around all the time. It's a side-effect from being famous. Everyone wants a slice, you know?"

Real life was calling, and it wanted its rock star back.

When it came down to it, I didn't really know anything about Sebastian—two weeks was nothing in the grand scheme of things. He hadn't told me anything substantial about his 'disappearance,' which made me feel a little better about not sleeping with him yesterday.

Sebastian Hale had this grand life, full of fans, music, touring, family and friends, sordid love affairs, and on- and off-again superstar girlfriends. There was no place for me in it, and there was certainly nothing in my existence I could compare it to. He had all these things—love and adoration—so why did he need me?

"What does it say?" I nodded towards the magazine.

"The article?" Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Don't believe anything those rags say, Juni. It's all allegedly this, allegedly that. 'A source close to the star...' What a load of bullshit."

"I still want to read it." I reached for the magazine, but Vanessa snatched it away from me.

" _Nuh ah_ ," she scolded. "What's going on, Juni? Do you really care about him?"

I scowled and ran my fingers through my hair. "How could I care about a drunk rock star who's in the middle of an existential crisis?"

"That's a lot of important things to know about someone."

"It doesn't matter."

"You're in a spin, Juni. Take the rock star out of the equation and look at the man."

Outside, the rain had eased. I stared at the grass across the street, counting the sparkles as a lone sliver of sunshine tracked across the landscape.

"He came here for a reason," she went on. "That's all I'm saying."

I blinked, not sure which was the mask—the man or the rock star.

"Let's go out for dinner tonight," Vanessa commanded. "The pub, six o'clock. I'll bring Hugo. He's always good to laugh at."

"Huh?"

"Oh, Juni," she said with a sigh. "You need a beer, girl."

The Mariner's Arms was the town's hottest spot on a Friday night. Technically, it was the only spot other than the pizzeria and fish 'n' chip shop. It had everything a young person who wanted a fun night out could want—pokie machines, cheap beer, a plastic playground, and greasy counter meals.

I sat across the table from Vanessa and Hugo in the bistro, picking at the salad on my plate. Electronic beeps and cheerful music rang out from the pokies behind us, and the dull roar of a group of local guys watching the Friday night Aussie Rules footy match—Essendon versus West Coast—on the big screen in the lounge echoed from the right.

The magazine article still bothered me. Sebastian still bothered me. Life... well, you catch my drift.

"Yo, Earth to Juni." Hugo waved his hand in front of my face to get my attention.

"Huh?" I straightened up and blinked, shucking off my dreamy state.

"You gonna eat those?" He nodded at the unfinished hot chips on my plate.

"Hugo!" Vanessa exclaimed slapping her husband on the arm.

"Ow! I just don't want good chips to go to waste. There's starving people all over the world, you know."

"You're so insensitive!"

I was hardly listening to their bickering. I'd spied an oddly familiar male silhouette by the bar and hope soared in my foolish heart.

He was wearing a dark grey hoodie underneath a black leather jacket, with the hood pulled up over his head, obscuring him from the rest of the pub. Something inside me zinged at the sight of him. It was Sebastian, it had to be. Either that, or there was finally a crack in my carefully guarded sanity and all hell was breaking loose.

"Oh, just bloody go and talk to him," Vanessa said with a sigh.

"Talk to who?" Hugo asked, stuffing a chip into his mouth.

I shoved my plate towards him and threw Vanessa a look.

"Go," she said. "I have a feeling he's a limited-time appearance around here."

As I approached him, I was beginning to think I had heart problems. Mum had died from cardiomyopathy, so maybe it was a hereditary thing... or it was probably just nerves getting the better of me. My mouth was dry, my head was spinning, and my palms were all sweaty. All signs I was crushing on a boy who was way out of my league.

I slid onto the stool beside him, catching his reflection in the mirror behind the shelves of liquor. Thankfully I'd been right, and I wasn't about to make a fool of myself in front of a stranger.

Sebastian angled his head towards me, his fingers tightening around his pint of beer. It was a cheap and cheerful way to get drunk, and I was a little surprised he hadn't gone for the top shelf stuff.

"Some rain we're having," he said when it was clear the words had stuck in my throat.

Shit, why had I come over here again? After I'd left the beach house yesterday, it was clear I'd ended things. I mean, when you say no to implied sex, isn't that a classic 'thanks but no thanks?' I was terrible at relationships, which was why I hadn't had any.

"I didn't think you'd still be here," I said.

"Why not?"

I shrugged and tucked my hair behind my ear. "There was an article in a tabloid—"

"You read those rags?" he asked. "Really?"

"No, Vanessa gave it to me," I retorted with a scowl. "They're offering money for information about you."

Sebastian snorted and rolled his eyes. "That's nothing new. They do it all the time."

"Oh, good."

He raised an eyebrow. "Good?"

"Warning you was futile and unnecessary."

"That's some scowl on your face." He leaned closer, his hoodie falling back.

"Aren't you afraid someone will recognise you?" I glanced around the pub, but no one was looking at us. _Yet_.

Sebastian took a swig of his beer and set the glass down, licking his lips. My breath caught and my eyes involuntarily followed his movement. Everything that man did had sexual undertones. _Everything_.

"Tell me this, Juniper," his stormy gaze met mine, "if I wasn't here, would you have come to the beach house to warn me?"

I would've been too embarrassed to go back after borderline creaming in his lap, but I wasn't about to tell him that. "Complicated has nothing on you," I murmured. I was so far in over my head I couldn't see the surface.

"I told you I was fucked up."

"Okay," I said, pushing to my feet. "I can't keep doing this with you."

"Doing what?"

"The fucked up dance," I declared and strode back to the table where Vanessa and Hugo were fighting over the chips on my plate. "I'm going home."

Vanessa glanced over her shoulder. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing. I just want to go home."

"Is someone giving you trouble, Juni?" Hugo asked. "I'll punch the shit outta them if you want. Just point the finger."

Vanessa slapped him and clucked her tongue. "Any excuse to be an idiot."

"He's just trying to be chivalrous," I said in his defence.

"You need an escort?" he asked. "It's dark outside."

"Na, it's cool. It's not too far." I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair and shrugged into it. "See you at the shop tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course," Vanessa said. "I've got nothing else to do."

"You can always come and slap some toppings on some pizzas," Hugo said. "It's better than slapping me."

She rolled her eyes and gave me a wave. "Be safe, Juni."

"See ya." I waved and forged a path through the pub, spending all my willpower points so I could make it out the door without looking over my shoulder.

It was only two and a bit blocks until I got home, so I shoved my hands into my pockets and braved the chill. Crossing the carpark, I left behind the bright lights of the Mariner's Arms and stepped onto the empty main street.

"Hey!"

I turned at the sound of a male voice, a sad part of me hoped it was Sebastian, but unfortunately it wasn't. It was Robbo. The same Robbo that'd apparently made a bet that he could 'bag' me before summer comes. Sighing, I kept walking, putting my head down and increasing my speed. I was so not in the mood for this.

"Hey, _I'm taking to you_."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me around, his fingers digging into my flesh. I was hit in the face with a waft of alcohol and alarm bells started ringing.

Robbo was the typical small-town douchebag that everyone knew was a little rough around the edges, but just brushed off because you can't cure stupid. He got drunk five nights a week, still lived at his parents' place, and worked sporadically at the local mechanic when he was sober enough to pick up a spanner without killing himself or someone else. Real top-notch material. Guys like him thought it was their right to own women and treat them like trash.

"You're drunk," I said. "You better go home."

"With you?"

"Excuse me?"

He edged closer, forcing my back to hit the wall of the fish 'n' chip shop.

"C'mon, Juniper," he slurred, rubbing against me, "you know you want this."

"Robbo!" I exclaimed, shoving him hard with both palms, but he wouldn't budge.

His hand twisted in my hair, pulling my scalp painfully, and he started to kiss my neck. Trembling, I swallowed bile and tried to push him away.

Hands were grabbing at my jacket, trying to slip underneath my top, and fear began to rise hot and hard inside of me. I was stuck, pinned against the wall with no way out.

"Get off me!" I screeched.

"Shut the fuck up," Robbo snarled, slapping his hand over my mouth. "You're a little prick-tease, Juniper. You think you're too good for us. You'll see how good I am when you come on my cock. You'll like it when my cum is in your mouth."

My eyes widened as he reached for the button on my jeans.

"You're a wild one, aren't you? _I bet you scream_."

I thrashed against him, and then he was torn off me and shoved across the footpath. He stumbled, almost falling into the gutter, but it wasn't him I was looking at. It was Sebastian.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off her," he snarled, prowling towards Robbo. "When a woman says no, she means _no_."

"Walk away, _hero_ ," the douchebag shot back.

" _You walk away_."

Robbo launched himself at Sebastian, blindly swinging. I let out a yelp as Sebastian ducked, twisted, then slammed his fist into the back of the guy's head. Robbo's eyes rolled, then he dropped like a stone.

Sebastian's gaze flew to mine. "Are you okay?"

"You dropped him with one hit," I exclaimed, my hands shaking. "You just..."

I was in shock. This was shock, right? Sebastian was the bad boy who got into trouble everywhere he went—fighting, getting drunk, trashing hotel rooms, fucking needy groupies, no wonder he was good with his hands. He played guitar like a god, punched out guys for kicks, pleasured lots of vaginas with his fingers—the list went on and on.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, taking a step towards me.

"Yeah, I-I could've..." I glanced at Robbo's comatose body and wondered if I really could've kicked him in the cock before he managed to cross the line.

"He's bigger than you, _and_ he's drunk," Sebastian stated. "You don't have the strength."

"That's a little condescending, isn't it?"

"I'm not being an arsehole, Juniper. I'm just stating facts."

Standing over Robbo, I glared at him with as much disgust as I could manage. I couldn't even walk two fucking blocks home in a town with the population of a hundred without getting assaulted.

"Do you want me to call anyone?"

I looked up at Sebastian and for the first time since Vanessa told me who he was, I didn't see the rock star. I saw the guy from the beach. The good guy who came to my rescue. He was right, and I was stubborn. Reality sucked.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"You're welcome." He seemed to have forgotten Robbo was there, but I still felt his hands on me.

"I wish we didn't have to live in a world where women have to look over their shoulders," I declared, anger heating my veins. "Fuck this."

Bending over, I hooked my hands underneath Robbo's back and tried to heave him over.

Sebastian frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Rolling him into the gutter where he belongs."

"Want a hand?"

"I can do it myself."

"I know you can. I just want to share in the satisfaction of knowing I played a part in him waking up in a pile of shit."

I grunted and hooked my hands underneath Robbo again. Sebastian leaned over beside me and together, we rolled the drunken arsehole into the gutter.

"He deserves worse, but that'll do for now," Sebastian said, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans.

"Were you following me?" I blurted.

His brows knitted together. "Why would I do that?"

I shrugged and sunk deeper into my jacket. Why would he? Because he was a creep, or because he wanted to make sure no one else was. I wasn't sure if he was the knight in shining armour or the player people warned you not to tangle with.

"At least let me take you home," he said.

"You've been drinking."

"I only had one and I didn't finish it," he argued. "I'm only a raging drunk behind closed doors."

I smirked and nodded towards the Page Break. "I'm going this way."

He fell into step beside me and when I stopped in front of the shop and fished out my keys from my pocket, he frowned, clearly confused.

"You live above the bookshop?"

"So?" I retorted, well and truly riled up from my near miss with Robbo. "Too lowbrow for you and your mansion on the hill?"

"Why are you so pissed at me?"

"I'm not pissed at you, I'm..." I sighed and shoved my key into the lock. "I'm pissed at the circumstances."

He leaned against the window, following my every move like a hawk watching a mouse. "Which are?"

I shook my head and shoved into the darkness of the shop.

"Juniper?"

Turning, I found Sebastian lingering on the threshold, his face in the shadows.

"I'm just rattled," I murmured. "You were right. I..." My chest heaved with a melancholy sigh.

"I can stay if you want."

Confusion pushed its way into my mind and I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Or not," Sebastian murmured, the open door letting in the nighttime chill.

"I'm a real fucked up mess," I said, throwing his words back at him. "You can stay, if that's what you want, but if you want to go, I get it."

His lips curved into a grin and he closed the door behind him. The lock clicked into place and he stepped farther into the shop, just past the counter and into the music section. Thankfully, romance was on the other side.

"So here we are," he said, his face in shadows.

"Yeah... Here we are."

## 10

# Sebastian

I followed Juniper up the stairs to the apartment over her bookstore.

Her perfect arse swayed in my face as she climbed in front of me, and I swallowed hard, rearranging my cock while she wasn't looking. Last thing she needed was another horny arsehole trying to creep on her.

The building was old and full of creaks, wavy floorboards, and crumbling paint. The door on the landing looked at least a hundred years old, and as she opened it, I found myself wondering how many ghosts were wedged in its crumbling plaster.

She turned on a lamp across the room and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I looked around, taking everything in.

There wasn't much space up here. It was like a studio, with a living space, a bed by the front windows, and a kitchenette at the rear. Beside the fridge was another door inset with frosted glass. It was edged open, and through the crack, I could see a bathroom with mint green and black polished tiles.

Everything was a mismatch of time periods and styles. I couldn't decide if it looked like a New York loft, a 1970s artist's den, or a kitsch hipster hideaway, but it didn't really matter. All of these things were a glimpse of Juniper Rowe, and I'd take anything I could get.

"Did you want to take a shower?" I asked.

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Not with me," I replied with a snort. "Though I won't say no, even though it's highly inappropriate right about now."

Juniper shucked off her jacket and tossed it over the kitchen bench, her eyes downcast.

"Nice place," I offered.

"I changed it after Mum died," she said, trying not to look at me. "I kept all the things that were good about us and tossed the rest."

"Really?"

"Most people hang onto everything," she went on, "but I couldn't. I guess I'm not attached to things. I like to live light. Well, as light as I can with all those books downstairs. But it wasn't like I needed a pile of Tupperware to remember her, ya know?"

She was starting to babble, which I took to be a nervous thing on her part. Being who I was and standing in her space wasn't something to take lightly. It wasn't like her coming to the beach house—that place was just a temporary shell. Her apartment over her bookstore was her sanctuary, her home. I was the last guy who should be in it, but here I was, powerless to stay the fuck away.

"Some stuff is just that," I said, agreeing with her. "It's just stuff."

"I know, right?"

"But I don't have stuff like _this_." I traced my fingers over a pile of books on the shelf beside me. They were classics like Jane Eyre, The Iliad, North and South, Persuasion, and they all looked like they were about to fall apart. The spines were bent, the pages were yellowing, and the corners were worn.

"Like what?" she asked, her eyes on my movements.

"Memories. Things that mean something."

"You don't have anything from your parents? Or your childhood?" Her eyebrows rose. "Your first guitar?"

I thought about the guitar I smashed over my dad's drunken head and snorted. Why would I want to keep the shards of a clichéd past?

"I never thought I needed them," I murmured. "Memories are in here." I touched my head, then my heart.

"What about your family?"

"I don't have any."

"Another thing we have in common," she said, standing beside me. She picked up the book on top of the stack—North and South—and ran her fingers over the cover. "My mum used to read this to me after my dad died."

"How old were you?"

"Five."

"Your mum read you that when you were barely in grade prep?"

"Yeah." She laughed softly and placed it back. "I was top of my class for reading. I got all the gold stars."

Silence spread out between us. At least she'd settled after what'd happen outside. That was another thing I was learning about Juniper tonight, she was strong as steel.

"What happened to your family?" she asked.

"I was an only kid. My dad was a raging drunk who love hitting my mum." Juniper tensed, and I resisted the urge to reach out and pull her against my side. "Finally, she stood up to him and we left when I was a teenager. It was either that, or I was going to kill the guy. The ultimate ultimatum, I guess. He died of liver failure like ten years ago."

"Your mum?"

"Breast cancer. Right before Beneath got signed."

She gasped softly and slipped her hand into mine, sending shockwaves straight through me. The warmth of her skin felt good against mine, and some of the weight I'd been carrying eased off my shoulders. I couldn't remember the last time I talked about my parents. All mention of them was banned from interviews, and I never brought it up with Mallory, the guys, or management—other than to make sure they were on the media no-fly list.

I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering why the hell I just told her all that shit. I'd just let it roll of my tongue like it was nothing. Maybe it was because Juniper had shared so many intimate details about herself without so much as blinking. She'd opened up, and in turn, had opened up something in me.

It was then that I realised I trusted her. This electrifying woman, who I'd only met two weeks ago, had lit up my life like no one else. My trust wasn't easily won and here she was, carving me open, and here I was letting her.

"I'm sorry she never got to see you make it," she said, the sound of her voice soothing.

"Life is what it is." I shrugged. "We're all part of the cosmic joke."

Her grip tightened, and I reluctantly tugged my fingers out of hers. I had to keep the wall up between us, otherwise I'd never be able to let her go. Everything she represented... _fuck_. Our lives were too different.

"So you fell into running the bookshop?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah." She rubbed her palms up and down her arms and turned towards the couch.

"What did you want to be?" I asked as she sat down. "Before?"

She drew in a deep breath and shrugged. "I don't really know. I never got the chance to think about it and now..."

"Another thing we have in common," I whispered. Two lost, lonely souls.

"But you know what you want to be," she argued. "You don't make music like that and be unsatisfied."

"You listened to our stuff?" Driven by temptation, I sat beside her, close enough that our legs touched.

She turned to gaze at me, the lamplight casting warmth across her delicate features. I counted each one of her freckles and studied the outline of her lips before resting on her eyes. A cosmos of emerald and hazel stared back at me and I waited with baited breath to hear her thoughts.

"I did."

That was all she offered and I was disappointed. I never cared about that kind of shit. I just played and sang, and people liked it or they didn't, but not knowing what Juniper Rowe thought about Beneath's music ate at me like acid.

"Did you like it?" Resting my arm behind her on the back of the couch, I edged closer. What did I say about tempting fate?

"I..."

Fuck, I wanted to kiss her so bad. My cock was hardening in my pants and it was staring to get painful. All she had to do was say the word and I'd give her everything—passion, lust, desire, a _connection_. The reckless fire in my heart was blinding me to everything. I wanted her beyond all reason, but—

"This isn't good, Juniper." She paled, her eyes shimmering. "What if I'm exactly like your dad? I'm just another troubled musician who'll probably leave one day."

"But what if you're not?" she whispered.

I couldn't live with what if's.

"What changed?" I asked. She tilted her head to the side and my grip tightened on the back of the couch. "From yesterday? What changed?"

Her cheeks flushed and she looked away. "Nothing."

_I don't think I could survive you_. I remembered her words like she'd just whispered them into my ear seconds ago. They were clear and sharp and dug deep, but what she didn't realise was that her words echoed the same ones in my soul. I was falling hard and fast for Juniper Rowe, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

"I should go." I was frozen, waiting for the universe to intervene.

"Yeah," she whispered.

We were at an impasse.

I stared at her, drinking her in, then, when I was sure she was going to be okay after her ordeal, I left. I walked right out of that bookshop and into the icy darkness, taking another step down the spiral.

## 11

# Juniper

_S ebastian Hale, MIA. The REAL truth behind the rock star's disappearance._

I stood in the middle of the local IGA Supermarket, my shopping dangling in one hand, my heart in the other. My palm itched to pick up the latest edition of _Stargazers_ to find out why he'd left his charmed celebrity life.

My reusable bag had the words 'I like big books and I cannot lie' printed on the outside with a cute hand-drawn image of a fluttering paperback novel. Inside was a block of Cadbury's Top Deck chocolate, an energy drink, and a multi-pack of two-minute noodles. I was living the high life.

Staring at the magazine rack, I wondered how Sebastian put up with the constant speculation and rumour mongering from the press. Having his life talked about like it was a competitive sport must be hell.

It'd been almost a week since the night we'd rolled Robbo into the gutter together. Since then, Robbo's drunken arse waking up in a puddle of storm water had been the talk of Point Mambie. He'd been found by local police guru, Sargent Conway, who'd photographed the scene and plastered it all over social media _and_ printed it out and stuck it on the local noticeboard. Last I heard, the photo had been shared three hundred times. On top of that, one thousand, one hundred and thirty-two people liked it, and nine hundred and forty-six people had left comments... and Conway still had his job.

I hadn't told anyone about what Robbo had tried to do. Maybe I should've but telling would also mean I'd have to let slip that Sebastian Hale was in the Point. I couldn't lie on a police report. I wasn't made for a life of crime. I was too hellbent on the whole honesty is the best policy manifesto, so if Sergeant Conway asked, I'd be obliged to tell him a rock star king hit my attacker and saved the day, then there'd be this whole _thing_.

Anyway, I didn't even know if Sebastian was still here or if he'd already gone. We'd almost kissed twice now, and I wasn't sure how many times a man like him could be pushed away until he went and found another woman to warm his bed. Maybe he'd gone back to ploughing Mallory Grigorio.

"I thought I told you not to look at those."

My gaze shot up and I yelped.

"Vanessa!" I slapped my hand over my thumping heart. "What are you doing here?"

The automatic doors swished open and closed, and the scanner was beeping at the register behind us as the attendant swiped a load of groceries.

"Stalking you to make sure you don't get sucked into the fake news void." She grasped my shoulders and turned me around so I was facing the door.

"Wait. Who's minding the shop? Did you lock the door?"

"Don't worry about that." She waved her hand at me, dismissing my concern.

"The last time you left Ziggy in the shop unattended he took a crap in the mystery section."

"Well, it wasn't a mystery who done it, that's for sure," she said, stifling a laugh.

" _Vanessa_."

"Have I got something to show you!" Her smile widened, and I knew something was up. Probably something dodgy.

"I'm not in the mood for surprises," I grumbled.

"You'll love it! I promise!" Vanessa dragged me out into the street, laughing as she went. "You've been down in the dumps ever since you saw _you know who_ at the pub."

"The rock star who shall not be named?"

"Oh, _shush!_ "

We crossed the street and turned onto the main road. I hated surprises. The last one I got was the phone call from the hospital to say Mum had died. They'd told me to go home, so I hadn't been there when she'd unexpectedly left the mortal coil. Surprises were _awful_.

" _Vanessa_ ," I cried with a dramatic moan, "I have surprise-related trauma, you can't do this to me."

"I'm about to erase it, Juni," she said, opening the door to the Page Break. " _Voila!_ "

As I stepped into the shop, my heart stopped beating before it started with a painful jerk. There, on the floor in front of the music section, was Sebastian and Ziggy.

"Now, choose carefully." He held up two books for the little dog to peruse. "Slash's autobiography or Nikki Sixx's. Guns 'n' Roses or Mötley Crüe."

Ziggy's tail thumped on the floor, then he lifted his right paw and tapped the Nikki Sixx book.

"Good boy!" Sebastian exclaimed, dropping the books and roughing up the little Jack Russell. "You're such a good boy, you know that?"

We stared at the pair in awed shock and the shopping bag slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.

"My ovaries just exploded," Vanessa said.

"I need new knickers," I added.

Sebastian's head rose, and he smiled when he saw us staring at him. He looked different. Cleaner maybe? Was that a good thing to notice about someone? He'd shaved, his hair was artfully arranged, his clean manly smell permeated the entire shop, and his aura was humming. I breathed deeply. No alcohol stench, either.

"Ziggy," Vanessa called, and the little dog zoomed across the shop.

She clipped on his lead and left without so much as a goodbye. _Subtle, Ness, real subtle._ This had been arranged and I wasn't sure how to feel about it. My emotions had been out of sync since the day I'd met that mystery guy on the beach and after all our push and pull, I had no clue where this was going. Jumping to conclusions was bad.

"You look..." I trailed off, knowing I probably sounded lame as hell.

"I've been thinking," Sebastian began, glancing at the windows.

I turned only to find Vanessa's nose pressed against the glass. Ziggy was underneath her arm, his beady little eyes focused on his reflection. Clucking my tongue, I crossed the shop floor and yanked the blind down, shutting them out.

"Sorry about that," I said, my cheeks heating to inferno levels. "She's very... _enthusiastic_."

Sebastian's lips quirked and he raked his hand through his hair. Standing, he took a step towards me.

"I thought you'd gone back," I murmured, the shop feeling smaller than usual.

"I've got until the end of the month to make a decision," he said with a shrug.

I frowned, tilting my head to the side. "A decision about what?"

"It's like that song by The Clash," he said. " _Should I Stay or Should I Go_."

I smirked. I knew the song and got the reference completely. Going would mean he'd be in trouble but staying... there'd be double. Right now, he was in limbo.

"Why wouldn't you want to go back?" I asked. "I mean, it's what you love, right?"

"I don't know." He stepped closer, his warmth and spicy male scent wafting towards me.

"Oh?" I swallowed hard. "What's holding you back?"

He blinked and lowered his gaze. "A lot of things."

"Like?"

I was playing with fire again. He had to see the way he affected me, right? He wasn't stupid. He was brooding but thoughtful, tortured yet passionate. He was an artist with a dilemma that reached down into his very soul.

"Reality," he whispered.

I nodded. He'd come here to talk. I was the person he'd opened up a little to, the person he trusted. The woman on the beach who didn't know who he was when he wanted anonymity the most. I bit my bottom lip as my hopes shattered. He hadn't come here because he couldn't live without me. This wasn't one of those romantic plot twists.

"Sometimes I fear I'm becoming my father," he said leaning against the counter. "Like I'm a train wreck waiting to happen. For me, that kind of implosion isn't private. It'd be all over the press in excruciating detail. I'd be torn apart and dissected, used to make vultures rich."

"We're not our parents," I said deciding to be the person who slapped him off the spiral. "That's something I have to believe because otherwise, our lives are already plotted out. What's the point in living if the ending's already written?"

"You really think so?"

"Those fears are an illusion. We are our own people."

"My entire life feels like that," he murmured. "Fake."

"At some point, it has to be real," I said. "Nothing is totally fake. If you want something solid, then you have to make the effort to push through the bullshit and take it. Isn't that what you want?"

He nodded, his breath catching.

"Why are you here?" I demanded.

"Huh?" He seemed confused, which annoyed me even more.

" _Why are you here?_ "

"I—"

"This isn't a game to me, Sebastian. I know who the world thinks you are. I know the image you lived up to, but that's not the guy I see here." I placed my palm on his chest, my fingers curling into his shirt. Warmth spread through me and my breathing quickened. "You've got to let go of all that crap and find your light."

The air felt thick and I drew in a deep breath, his scent filling my lungs. Sebastian's gaze softened and the gap closed between us.

"The lies... they just kept piling up. The image outshone the reality," he murmured, finally opening his heart. "I'm screaming, but no one can hear me."

His gaze drilled into mine, his stormy eyes full of a swirling mass of emotions. He was drowning and I reached out, my words pulling him up and out of the crashing waves.

"I can," I whispered. "I can hear you, Sebastian."

" _Juniper_..." He tensed, then exhaled. "Oh, _fuck it_."

His hand curled around the back of my neck and he pulled me towards him. The moment his lips met mine, every fail-safe I'd installed to protect myself from this tortured man evaporated. I fell into his embrace, clutching onto his jacket for dear life as his tongue swept into my mouth.

His grip on me tightened as we lost ourselves in our kiss. The feelings I'd fought since that day on the beach overwhelmed me to the point of incoherence. I was hungry—no, I was _starving_ —for him.

We didn't speak, we didn't slow, and when he lifted me in his arms, I wrapped my legs around his waist and let him carry me upstairs. The door slammed, he bashed his shin into the side table, we skimmed off the wall, then we fell onto my bed. Tearing at each other's clothing, our lips barley parted as he stripped me down to my bra and knickers.

Sebastian pressed his forehead against mine, letting out a moan as his palm brushed over the peak of my breast. His shirt was gone, lying somewhere on the floor, and his jeans were undone, but still hanging on his hips. He was anchored over me, his leg between mine, holding his weight on each elbow on either side of my body.

There was a moment of hesitation, like we'd reached the point of no return and he was silently asking for my permission to smash through the final barrier... but there was none. I pushed against his touch, wanting all of him. His eyes darkened, their stormy waves a tornado of longing.

He dragged my underwear down my legs and unhooked my bra, exposing the last parts of me to his gaze. A low moan of appreciation escaped his lips as his hand travelled over my breasts, caressing the curve of my waist, and finally nestled between my legs. Then he slipped a finger inside me, _deep_. The heel of his hand rubbed slow circles around my clit and I jerked against his hand as a sharp bolt of pleasure sparked through my body.

"So wet," he murmured, pushing a second finger in with the first.

" _Sebastian_." I closed my eyes and moved in tandem with his fingers, my fingers grasping the sheets.

I ran my hands down his back and pushed at his jeans. I wanted him like I've never wanted a man before and fuck whatever happened next.

He was impatient and yanked off the last barrier between us, tossing his jeans and boxers onto the floor. All of him was on show above me and I could see it, why the world thought he was a fucking sex god. Why every woman wanted to get down on her knees for him. Why he's _Sebastian Hale_.

I was a knot of tension and waited as he knelt over me, his cock erect and ready. My gaze locked onto him and I teased my clit, watching as he rolled a condom over his length. Fuck, even that was hot.

I bit my bottom lip, watching his movements, and I feel myself staring to overthink. It's been a long time since I'd been with anyone—and I couldn't remember any guy knowing how to get me off with any kind of precision—but right now desire was overriding my apprehension and all I wanted was him inside me.

I'd fantasised about this moment for weeks, desperately wanting to rub one out just thinking about him. Fighting the attraction I knew was growing between us was torture, but this was worse—aroused and waiting.

Sebastian fisted his cock, his gaze meeting mine as he began to rub his tip along my seam. Trembling, I opened my legs and shuddered as he slid inside. Like I said, _torture_.

" _Sebastian_." I wriggled underneath him in an attempt to force him farther inside me.

"I want you so fucking much," he said, his voice strained. His gaze met mine, his stormy eyes asking permission.

" _Take me_."

He thrust into me, his cock gliding through my arousal and I cried out his name. I was nothing but feeling as he took me with unrelenting force. I had no time, no reprieve. There was nothing but carnal _need_. He fucked me like I was his lifeline, like he needed to feel me from deep within to hold onto reality.

I gasped and moaned as his cock slammed into me—over and over, harder and faster. I dug my fingernails into his back and opened my legs wider. His cock drove deeper and his mouth found mine. Breathy kisses mixed with grunts of pleasure, and then his tongue was wrapping around my nipples. First the right, then his teeth dug against the left. I broke under his relentless desire and my climax rose all too soon.

"Sebastian," I managed to choke out, "I'm—"

Before I could get the words past my tongue, my orgasm ripped through me, my body clenching around Sebastian's cock. A groan tore from the back of his throat and his pace became erratic.

"Come, Juni," he growled into my ear. "Let me hear you."

Unable to deny myself the pleasure, I let go. I was crying out, screaming, moaning, and writhing as I came apart. He knew the exact spot to hit with his hips, grinding expertly against my clit to draw out the sensation.

Then his cock pulsed inside me—a feeling I'd never experienced before—and I knew he was coming hard. _I'd made him come inside me_. I moved against him, circling my hips and driving him deep.

"Fuck, Juniper..."

As we came down from the rush, our chests heaved in tandem and our lips merged in slow kisses. We were locked together with his cock inside me, the last shudders of pleasure rippling through our bodies.

In that moment, tangled with him on my bed, I knew I was falling. Not in lust, but something deeper, something much more dangerous. What we'd just done, it wasn't just a fuck, it was giving in to the inevitable. _I wanted to keep him._

Not wanting to read too much into it, I swallowed hard and ran my hand over his back. _Relish it, Juniper. It might only be for just now._

"That was un-fucking-believable," he whispered, letting his cock slip out of me. "Your pussy is so tight."

I moaned, the notion of talking dirty a foreign concept.

"What?" His gaze met mine.

"I..." My cheeks felt flushed from fucking so at least I could hide my embarrassment.

Sebastian chuckled as he pulled off the condom. "I'm going to fuck you again, just so you know. But if you want it, you're going to have to tell me how you like to get off, Juniper Rowe."

He rolled over me again, his hands capturing my face as his lips brushed along the curve of my neck. His touch was electrifying. Every nerve ending was alive with want for this wild and intense man.

Oh fuck, I'd slept with a rock star. Not just any rock star, the most notorious bad boy in the history of the fucking world. I'd just had his cock inside me. He'd fucked me with his fingers. _I just fucked Sebastian Hale_.

" _Shh_ ," he murmured, sensing my silent freak out. "You've done something to me." His already hardening cock was pressing into my hip. "You're in my fucking blood, Juni."

I squirmed, my breathing quickening. _He'd called me Juni_.

"What have you done to me?" His palm brushed over my breast and I shuddered.

"To you?" I whispered, desperate to feel him inside me again. "What have you done to _me_?"

I didn't have to tell him what I wanted. Sheathed, he took me slowly, our bodies grinding together in a slow dance of unbearable pleasure.

We rose and fell, entwined, and just like his song I'd played on repeat, _Scream and Feel_ , we gave each other everything.

All that we were, was feeling.

## 12

# Sebastian

It was still dark when I woke. That was the thing about winter I hated the most—the dark sunrise and the cold as fuck air that accompanied it.

Juniper's body was warm against mine, and the curve of her arse nestled against my cock, which was already stiff with some epic morning wood.

I breathed in the scent of sex, sweat, and the citrusy perfume that usually clung to her skin, and felt the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders.

I'd had the most intense sex of my fucking life last night. _Four times in a fucking row_.

I'd never shared such raw need with someone before. The feel of her body underneath mine, the taste of her arousal on my tongue, her lips around my cock, her panting moans, her unbearable orgasms—it was all etched in my mind forever. One taste and I was addicted.

I wanted her again.

And again.

And _again_.

I rubbed my eyes, the air icy against my warm skin. There must be frost outside. A gas heater was set against the wall, so I slipped out of bed and flicked the button, the ignition clicking as it lit the gas. Holding the button down as the unit warmed, I shivered, the cold air raising goosebumps over my bare arse cheeks.

"Hey."

I turned at the sound of Juniper's sleepy voice, grinning when her gaze lowered to my cock. It twitched on cue and she buried her face under the covers, leaving one eye free to peek.

"I thought you'd be cold," I said, completely unashamed by the fact I was sporting an erection. I eased my finger off the button and allowed the heater to do its thing.

"It's warm in here," she said, her voice muffled by the blanket.

Climbing back into bed, I captured her with a kiss, my cock grinding against her thigh. Juniper sighed, her palms caressing my back as her nails dragged along my flesh.

I sucked a hard nipple into my mouth and teased, pushing her legs open.

"You're wet again," I murmured, my lips brushing along the curve of her breast.

"You're hard again," she breathed.

Fisting my cock, I stroked along her seam, teasing as my free hand fumbled for another condom. I sheathed myself with expert precision, and paused just long enough to breathe her in.

I could fuck Juniper Rowe all day and night. I could fuck her so hard that nothing else mattered.

Anchoring myself over her, I thrust deep, my cock gliding through her slickness. Her back arched off the mattress and she cried out in pleasure, the gasp making my balls tense.

"You're so fucking sweet," I whispered into her ear.

She opened her legs farther, allowing me to bury deeper still, and the moment she took all of me, her body quivered. Shit, she was a siren. A fucking goddess. She didn't put on a performance; she just lost herself in the moment, letting her body respond to mine, telling me what she liked without the over the top commentary so many women thought men needed to get off.

I pulled back and thrust into her again, my hand curling into her hair. My mouth found hers and we kissed amongst heavy breaths as I pounded my cock into her slickness. All too soon she was clenching my dick, coming so hard a strangled cry tore from her lips.

My cock flared and my release burst from my tip, my hips jerking as I lost myself to the climax. My breath was hot against her neck as I licked a path along her skin, the salt of her sweat tangy on my tongue.

Her body trembled then began to relax as the last of her orgasm faded, and I left my cock inside her, relishing the feel of us joined together. I loved to put my dick in a lot of pussy—a lot of arse and lips too—but right now, I'd forgotten what it felt like to be with another women. All I saw was her.

_Juniper_.

Finally, I pulled out and settled beside her, my arms wrapping around her slim frame.

I should be fucking terrified, but I wasn't. I was... _content_. The rest of the world had fallen away, and it was just me and her and this place. The stadiums, the meet and greets, the photoshoots, and interviews were a world away, almost like they'd happened to someone else.

Outside, the sky was finally coming alive with the fire of a spectacular sunrise.

"Do you want to hear some of our new songs?" I asked.

She blinked, her long lashes brushing against her flushed cheeks.

"You can say no," I whispered.

"Yes," she said, raising her head from the pillow, "I'll listen to them."

Grinning like a bloody school boy, I leaned over the edge of the bed and found my jeans. My phone was still in the pocket, and suddenly I was glad I'd decided to rejoin the world in some small way.

I'd gone to the next town over and got the latest iPhone straight off the shelf, no ID required. There was no SIM card in it, but people didn't seem to need a phone number to get in contact these days—WiFi was all it took. The moment I signed into my online accounts, a barrage of messages had downloaded and almost crashed the fucking thing.

Juniper sat, wrapping herself in a blanket, and picked up a pair of headphones, plugging the cord into my phone. They were the kind that went over her ears and canceled out background noise, which were the perfect kind to listen to music in my opinion. I pulled up the songs—a rough cut of the album that'd just finished being mastered the day I took off—and with a shaking finger, pressed play.

Fuck, I was nervous. I'd never given a shit what people thought about our music before. Fans, reviewers, friends, the record label, they could all go jump for all I cared, but this woman in bed next to me? What she thought mattered to me.

Juniper was naked, the sheet wrapped loosely over her shoulders, and her slender hand held the headphones over her ears. I watched her, transfixed, as her teeth tugged at her bottom lip. Her head swayed softly from side to side and I edged closer.

Fuck, my dick was hard again.

Finally, she opened her eyes, folded her arms on her knees, and rested her head in the nook of her elbow, but she wasn't done listening yet. The next track played while she drank me in with her emerald eyes.

My gut twisted and I rubbed my palm up and down her back. She hid her smile and pressed pause, taking off the headphones. Then she made a show of wrapping up the cord and setting my phone down on the bed.

"So?" I asked, desperate for her approval.

Juniper tossed the headphones onto the floor. Snaking her arms around my neck, her fingers threaded through the hair at my nape and tugged.

"Who writes the songs?" she asked.

"Huh?" I blinked, dazed by her closeness.

"Who writes them?"

"We all do," I replied. "I write the lyrics and we all work on the music."

"Those words are yours?"

I nodded, tugging her into my lap. The sheet twisted between us, cock blocking me from sliding inside her again.

"I see it now. I couldn't before."

"What do you mean?"

"When I listened to your music the other week, I was seeing the product. The performance. Don't get me wrong, it was hot, and I really like your stuff. I can't believe I didn't know it before." She hadn't even taken a breath. "I can see why you're so popular—"

I ran my fingers over her lips. "And now?"

"It's not the music that's the problem," she said her eyes locking with mine. "You love it. It's in your soul."

"Then what is the problem?"

"The connection between the music and everything else," she began. "A link is missing."

I stared at her, spiralling deeper into this reckless desire we shared.

"Will you help me find it?" I asked cupping her cheek. "Will you?"

"Yeah," she said, her thumb caressing the tear that'd unknowingly escaped my eye. "I..." She let the words die on her tongue and I raked my fingers through her silky hair.

Shit, she was waiting for the moment I dumped her off my lap, walked out the door, and never came back. That was my reputation—fuck 'em and leave 'em. One night only, no second chances, no forevers. The only person who'd come close was Mallory and that relationship was fake as fuck.

Juniper was different. She was the light in my otherwise dark world. She'd pulled me up when everyone else was content to let me drown, but it was more than that. _Much more_.

"This is different," I murmured. "You're different."

"Am I? Am I really?"

Yeah, she was. She was in me now. Her mark was on my soul.

"You're stuck with me, Juniper Rowe," I whispered. "Whatever happens next... well, _fuck 'em_."

Two days later, when I finally tore myself out of her arms and went back to the beach house, I was surprised to see a car parked on the bluff, half a kilometre from the front gate.

I'd left Juniper to open her shop while I finally went to find a change of clothes and shave the sandpaper off my face. Her words, not mine. I was in two minds about letting the stubble grow into a beard.

It was shocking how easy things were between us. I wanted to be with her and it was screwing with everything I knew about life. Fake had become so real that when real life had finally started calling, I was fucking questioning it.

Juniper terrified me as much as she enamoured.

I pulled my car off to the side of the road and let the engine run, watching the slate grey sedan ahead. My body still hummed with the aftershocks of my monumental sex-a-thon and I rubbed my cock as I spied a figure moving along the cliffside.

A figure with a fucking telephoto lens.

## 13

# Juniper

Two whole days of hot sex had left me aching in places I never knew existed. I throbbed between my legs, the pulse echoing the thrust of Sebastian's cock, and it was all I could do to not reach down and massage some of the tenderness away.

There were tons of great things about staying in bed with a hot guy on a cold winter weekend, but the downside was I'd been neglecting the business. It wasn't like there were any customers—most days none came at all—but I still had the online store to maintain.

Monday morning had finally rolled around and here I was, sitting behind the counter with a can of energy drink, the laptop open with a dismal looking spreadsheet on the screen, and my hands buried in my favourite oversized green wooly jumper.

I knew things were rotten in financial land, but not like this. Not to the point where the electricity might get shut off next month.

Still, my mind wandered to Sebastian's cock and all the ways he'd put it inside me. My thighs clenched and I shook my head, staring at the spreadsheet. Looking at the numbers again, it served as the proverbial bucket of ice water I needed to cool myself off.

The door opened, letting in a blast of cold air, and I looked up as Vanessa and Ziggy walked in.

"Oh, I see Sebastian finally found the strength to pull out," she declared.

"Vanessa!" I shrieked.

"So how was he?" She perched on the end of the counter and stared at me expectantly as Ziggy settled into his bed at my feet. "How long, how many times, and is he any good with his mouth? I bet he loves to suck and lick. Does he? Huh? Does he like to eat out?"

My cheeks felt like they were on fire and I pressed my palm against my searing flesh.

Vanessa sighed and punctuated the sound with a pout. "Hugo doesn't like to eat out. He goes straight for the—"

"Please stop!"

"Just once, I'd like him to—"

" _Vanessa_."

"So where is the rock god? Waiting for you upstairs?" She wiggled her eyebrows up and down suggestively, making me groan.

"No, he's gone back to the beach house." I turned my attention back on the laptop. There was a hell of a lot of red numbers and my stomach churned.

"But he'll be back, right?" Vanessa waited expectantly. "He wants to be your boyfriend, right?"

I tensed and did my best to look nonchalant. We hadn't really talked about it. I knew what I wanted, but I was too afraid to admit it to myself, let alone Sebastian. He'd told me I was different, but what did that even mean? Hot sex didn't make a boyfriend, especially when his job was to be hot, famous, and _available_. Just thinking about it made me break out in a rash, so I was content to stay inside my bubble for now.

"It's only been a couple of days," I said with a scowl. "Who knows what this is."

"Okay..." She shucked off her coat and hung it on the hook by the door before returning to the counter. "What's wrong then? You've got that look on your face. The one that looks like a cat's arse."

"Same old, same old," I muttered, not wanting to be that person. You know, the one who always complained and never found anything positive to talk about. Those people never lasted long in the world before they got dumped. I didn't want to be that person. I'd be forced sunshine and rainbows until I died.

"Is it that bad?" Vanessa frowned and leaned forward, peering at the laptop screen. "Oh, Juni..."

"This Sebastian thing has been a nice distraction, but I can't forget reality," I said, fighting back tears. "I have to make a decision, Ness. A real tough one."

"Things will pick up in a couple of months," she argued. "We can do double-time listing books online if you want. You don't have to pay me."

"You already work for free."

"I know, but I like hanging out, and Ziggy loves his Aunt Juni." She turned the laptop around so she could look at the numbers. "We've been low before, right?"

"Not like this," I replied. "Every year is worse than the last. People don't want to shop for brand-new books anymore, let alone secondhand ones in a town on the arse cheek of the world. People are into minimalism and downsizing, and online shopping with free shipping." I looked at the shelves of books that stretched along both walls and down the middle. Some were stacked floor to ceiling in some places. "Some of these books haven't been touched in at least fifteen years."

"We can advertise," she said. "Do market stalls, giveaways, sausage sizzles... We can host a pizza and book party!"

"Ness, I can barely afford to eat."

"What?" she whispered. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't want to worry you."

Vanessa looked forlorn and completely powerless. There was nothing she could do to help, it was just the way the world was going. Bookstores were a romantic notion, but there was no money in the Page Break anymore. Not unless I did something drastic. "You're thinking about selling," she declared. "Aren't you?"

I shrugged. "It's crossed my mind."

"You can't sell the Page Break, Juniper! It's a Port Mambie institution!"

"I own the building," I said. That was thanks to the last time Mum felt responsible after Dad had died. "I could rent it out." _Or sell it_.

"But the shop will be gone. _Your mum's shop_."

I curled my fingers into the sleeves of my jumper and bit my bottom lip. Fuck, I was scared shitless. What use was a pile of books if I couldn't keep the lights on? I was already eating two-minute noodles to afford my overheads. A bank loan was bad news and a credit card was even worse.

"What do I do, Ness?" I looked up at my friend, desperate for an answer to all my problems. "I don't want to let her go."

Her shoulders sank at the same time the door opened.

Sebastian chose that moment to walk in and hesitated when he saw the looks on our faces. It was all I could do not to throw myself into his arms, but he had enough of his own problems.

"What's wrong?" he asked, studying me.

Snapping the laptop closed, I forced a smile and said, "Nothing. I thought you went back to the beach house?"

"I did, but I came to the conclusion that it's boring as fuck." He eyed Vanessa. "Are you sure everything's cool?"

"I need to see Hugo about a, uh... _thing_ ," she said, backing towards the door. Grabbing her coat, she made a run for it.

"That was subtle," Sebastian said, throwing a look after her. Turning his attention towards me, he took her place beside the counter. "That Robbo dick giving you trouble again?"

I'd practically forgotten about that douche nozzle. Shaking my head, I rubbed my eyes and stood, resting my head against Sebastian's shoulder. I knew he was going through stuff, but I bet he didn't have these kinds of problems—cash flow, homelessness, bankruptcy. If I believed Google, his net worth was in the millions.

"Hey," he murmured, taking my hand in his, "tell me, Juniper."

"The shop's in trouble," I admitted, raising my head. "It has been for a while. People just don't want to shop for books anymore, let alone in a small-town on the edge of nowhere."

"You're in trouble?"

"Yeah. Looks like it."

Sebastian tensed, his hand dropping from mine. "So that's why you were asking about the tabloid the other night." His eyes narrowed.

"What?" I blinked, dazed by his sudden accusation.

"You need money." He shrugged. "It's only natural to feel tempted."

"I never..."

"Tell that to the guy I caught with a camera up at the beach house."

I froze, my heart twisting. Someone had found him? I'd never betray his trust like that, but he was looking at me like I'd kicked his kitten and ruined his play lunch. A pang of anger flashed through my veins and I pushed away from him.

"You're accusing me of selling you out?" I scoffed and shook my head in disbelief. _That was the first conclusion he jumped to?_ "First, I wouldn't even know how to fucking sell shit to the media. Second, _what the fuck?_ You just accuse without asking?"

"So you don't want to save your shop?" he asked, his eyes turning to ice.

"This is the last thing I have left of my mother!" I exclaimed. "Of course, I want to save it!"

"At any cost?"

I stared at him, my mouth flapping uselessly. Was he looking for a way out of us already? He'd fucked his issues out of his system and it was now time to go back to his charmed fucking life where he was rich and had everything he ever wanted. He slummed it, got his fill, and now it was time to shit all over me.

"What is this?" I demanded.

"You tell me, Juniper."

I didn't like the way he spat my name. A few hours ago, when he had his cock in me, he'd whispered it like it was a prayer, but now it sounded like he had a giant turd in his mouth.

"You're accusing me of something that never crossed my mind. _You tell me_."

His jaw tensed, and I wondered if this was just him acting out. If he was the one who was scared. Maybe I was delusional. I was a nobody, after all.

" _Oh, God_. This was never real, was it?" I whispered, my heart cracking under the pressure. I was on the verge of losing everything and I still wanted to do the right thing. I'd been suckered into sleeping with the guy, hadn't I? I was today's cosmic joke.

"This isn't real?" he asked, his expression twisting.

"You tell me," I shot back, letting the floodgates smash open. "This is my life—warts, bankruptcy, and all—but it isn't yours, is it? When you go back to your band and your touring and all the red carpets, then what, Sebastian?"

He stared at me and said nothing. He didn't need to because his answer was written all over his face. The bubble had burst in record time.

"This was always going to be a fantasy, wasn't it?" I murmured.

"Do what you fucking want," he said, his voice sending a chill down my spine. "Sell me out to save your stupid shop. I don't care. _I'm used to it_."

"Are you listening to yourself?" My eyes were full of tears and I didn't even try and stop them from spilling over. "Not everyone is out to screw you over, Sebastian. I never called any tabloid magazine. I'd never betray your trust, but you're just looking for an excuse to get out of this."

" _Fuck you._ " His words stung, and I fought back tears.

"You want to know what the missing link is? It's hiding behind your fucking paranoia."

Ziggy growled and leapt out of his bed. He barked at Sebastian, standing in-between us like a fierce little guard dog.

Sebastian glared at me, his silence deafening.

"Fuck this," he finally managed to spit out. "I'm gone."

His words were hot pokers driving through my heart and I was frozen in place as he strode from the shop, slamming the door behind him like it was some kind of fucked up full stop.

How the hell had we gotten here? From everything to nothing in the space of thirty seconds?

I fell to the floor and let out a sob. Ziggy nudged my hands with his wet nose and I held onto the little dog as tight as I could as I cried.

I cried because I cared about Sebastian. I cried because I was going to lose everything. I cried because I had no fucking clue what to do about any of it.

I'd opened my heart, and Sebastian had lived up to his reputation and shattered the last hope I'd had in my life. _I should have known better._

And that's where Vanessa found me twenty minutes later. A broken mess on the floor of a failing shop.

## 14

# Sebastian

I took the coastal road away from Point Mambie.

The ocean stretched out to my left and clouds swirled overhead, echoing my mood. A few patches of blue shone through, but they were gone as soon as they'd appeared.

Juniper was terrifying. Everything she represented, the possible future I could have with her, the feelings she stirred inside me, the excruciating pain her tears had seared into my heart—all of it was fucking terrifying.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, the leather creaking.

Fucking was a sport for Beneath. Which groupie would we bang tonight. Like complete misogynistic arseholes, we ranked our conquests and gave them points. _Had_ , I corrected myself.

I didn't want to be that guy anymore. The guy whose mother would disown him if she knew how perverted he actually was.

I couldn't blame Juniper for wanting the money. I had a reputation she assumed was real, and her shop was in trouble. In her mind, I was going back to my life without her. In her mind, she thought I'd used her to soothe an ache.

I could keep driving. Just head into the sunset and never look back. Disappear for real.

_Yeah, right_.

I pulled the car into a viewing area on the side of the road and checked the mirrors. Seeing there was no traffic, I did a U-turn and headed back towards town.

I could've stopped at the Page Break Bookshop. I could've done a lot of things, but I kept driving. She was right. When I went back to my life—because everyone had known it was inevitable except for me—what would happen then? Would she come with me? Would she be able to handle the pressure of being Sebastian Hale's girlfriend?

I sailed through town and I didn't have the courage to look sideways.

Ahead, the beach house came into view, the reinforced gate looming over the car. I let my mind wander as it scraped back. I was used to being talked about in less than pleasant tones. My many indiscretions were forgotten in days thanks to clever marketing. I was a hot, young, rock star, living the rock star lifestyle. It was expected of me to be a hateful little prick. As long as I kept making music and telling people what they wanted to hear, then I was golden. The world was such a demented place.

As soon as the gate was open, I tore through the opening and pressed the button on the fob I'd tossed onto the dash, closing it behind me.

Looking up at the house, I scowled. It was an empty shell. A motherfucking representation of all the shit things I'd done. I couldn't go in there.

Snatching my beanie from the seat beside me, I shoved it on my head. Getting out of the car, I flipped up the collar of my coat and walked across the grass. Unlocking the side gate, I left the grounds and ventured out into the real world, working my way towards the cliff. There was a semblance of a path up here, a trail worn down by countless boots, but there were no safety barriers keeping wayward souls from leaping over the edge.

Behind me, the beach house sat nestled against the hillside, and I wondered where that photographer was hiding. Burying into my coat, I put my head down and kept walking. It didn't seem to matter anymore.

When the abyss was a handful of metres away. I stopped, my boots burying into the scrappy greenish grey grass.

Juniper's dad had thrown himself off a cliff when she was five. Maybe it was this one. The wind tore at my coat, so I didn't venture any closer towards the edge. A gust in the wrong direction would send me falling to the rocks below.

The ocean was choppy and whitecaps were frothing from the shore to the horizon. Every day I'd been here it'd rained, was windy, or was so fucking cold my dick almost froze off. There was an analogy for that—a shit storm. Seemed appropriate.

I was in the middle of a shit storm of my own making.

"You're not going to throw yourself off, are you? A lot of people have invested a crap load of money in you."

Turning, I scowled. Vix stood beside me, the wind buffeting her blonde curls around her face. She scraped them behind her ear and raised her eyebrows.

"I don't even want to know how you found me," I said.

Vix had this thing where she must've been Sherlock fucking Holmes in a past life. As Beneath's road manager, she was responsible for getting us from point A to point B, making sure we had everything we needed, and looked after our interests with the media, venues, hotels, and transport. She wasn't our manager per-se, she was our 'on the ground' contact. Yeah, we were that bloody important we needed more than one manager, but she had a litany of minions who ran around and did her bidding, too. It was a full-on circus act if you asked me.

"It wasn't hard, douchebag." She smirked, her red lipstick bright against her pale skin. She also looked like Courtney Love's evil doppelgänger, which was a feat considering the real Courtney Love was wild in her day. "You're not exactly keeping a low profile."

I grunted and balled up my hands inside my pockets.

"Fuck, it's cold out here. Let's go to that huge arsehole mansion back there, huh?"

"You need to work on your vocabulary, Vix."

"Who died and made you a saint, Seb?" She laughed and urged me away from the cliffside. "The way I remember it, you're the dirtiest out of all of us."

I didn't like the way the wind stole my breath, so I humoured her. We walked back to the beach house in silence, but I knew the moment we were inside, I would cop a serve.

Vix's boots stomped on the tiles in the foyer as she entered, and she dumped her coat and bag on the hallway table. The house seemed emptier than usual, even though it was full with her massive bitch of an ego.

Moving into the living area, I turned on the gas fireplace.

"You could've gone anywhere, but you came here." She sighed and turned her gaze to the kitchen, taking in the empty bottles of alcohol, and the view through the windows. "Which means you never really wanted to leave forever." She picked up an empty bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label. "Some tantrum. These are two hundred bucks a pop. How many have you got? Five?"

"Eat shit, Vix."

She slammed down the bottle and glared at me. "You need to stop this childish bullshit, Seb."

"Childish?" I scoffed and wished I hadn't drunk the last of the scotch last night. "You wanted me to have a fake relationship with Mallory. You wanted us to stage fake paparazzi shots. You wanted the entire band to fake shit. You wanted me to lie to my fans. It's not about me, Vix. It's about the music."

"I didn't hear you complain about Mallory. From what I remember, you wanted to 'nail a pop star with your impossibly large cock.'"

She had me on that one. I'd fucked Mallory, but only after I'd come home to find the pop starlet naked on my kitchen counter with whipped cream all over her pussy. What was it she'd said to me? _Lick my hole with that bad boy tongue of yours._

"No one wants their miserable fucking one-night stands hanging around," I drawled, the dickhead in me coming out to play. "She wasn't real. Our relationship was empty, Vix."

"Don't tell me you want to settle down." She laughed and shook her head, her blonde curls bobbing. "That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

"Would it be so bad?"

"You poor boy," she purred, shaking her head.

"You wanted me to _lie_ to the fans."

"It's your image, Seb. That's what they buy into."

"Shit, and here I was thinking they were in it for the music."

"The music is the soundtrack, but they want _you_. Women want to know you're within reach. They want to know they could fuck you if they wanted. And men, _men want to be you_. They want to be the guy who doesn't give a shit, sticks it to authority, and fucks beautiful women on the bonnet of a Ferrari."

I grunted. "That was one time."

"Who do you think let the photographer in?" She grinned, obviously pleased with herself.

I gritted my teeth and rested the urge to throw her out.

"You've got a sold-out gig at Festival Hall in two weeks." She eyed me sternly. "You have to be there. Cancelling is not an option."

I wasn't a man to these people. _I was a product_.

"Who is she?"

I glanced at Vix and scowled.

"I know that look," she went on. "Your cock's hungry for someone's pussy."

"You've been talking to Josh."

"Of course I have." She nodded and leaned against the back of the leather couch. "Juniper Rowe. Small-town pussy. Owns a bookshop that's haemorrhaging money. Both parents are dead. She's borderline homeless." She eyed me and blew through her lips. "She's playing you, you clueless arsehole."

"There was a pap outside yesterday," I said, changing the subject.

Vix rolled her eyes. "Of course there was. You couldn't have hidden here forever."

"How did they know?"

"How did you think I found you?" she replied. "When I got wind of a tip-off from some bogun arsewipe, it was all I could do to keep it out of the press. You owe the label twenty thousand bucks, by the way. They wanted double what they paid out."

"Who gave the tip?"

"Some guy." She shrugged. "Doesn't matter who. At first, I thought it was this Juniper chick, but I was surprised. There's always a first, I suppose."

Vix didn't have to give me a name, I already knew. _Robbo._ That fucking arsehole. He was ten thousand dollars richer and free to walk the streets after assaulting Juniper. She should've called the cops, not rolled him into a gutter.

Shit, and Juniper. I'd accused her of selling me out. I'd let my fear take over and drive her away. I'd broken her fucking heart all because I was a pussy. I was afraid of my fake reality coming in and crashing the party, that what I was feeling for her was a product of my longing for something more. Turned out, she'd been the one who was real all along.

"Go pack your shit," Vix said, looking bored. "We're going back to the city and you're going to rehearsals."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Her eyes flashed and she straightened up. "Do I have to pull the contract card, because I will. The label will sue your arse for everything you have, then you won't have to play at slumming it, Seb. You'll be living in the gutter for real."

My chest started to ache like a thousand knives were being plunged into it. Juniper was on the edge of financial ruin and that was her reality. She wasn't playing at life, not like I was. I had the power to help her, just like she'd helped me that day on the beach. She hadn't realised how much I'd needed the taste of anonymity, not then, but now...

Oh fuck, I cared about her. I cared about her and I shit all over her truth.

"I'll come back," I whispered, knowing I was fucked either way.

"Good," Vix declared. "I want to be back in the city by tonight. I've got a meeting with the marketing team and they'll be out of their minds when they hear you're back."

"I'll come back," I said more firmly, "but not today."

"What?"

"I need to make things right with Juniper, _then_ I'll come back."

"Fucking rock stars." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You better, Sebastian, otherwise the label will make things difficult. I can't hold them off for long."

"I'll be back before the concert."

She eyed me with an air of skepticism and punctuated the look with a sharp nod.

"Thanks, Vix."

"This is the first and last time," she warned. "Get yourself into trouble again, and you're out, got it?"

"Got it."

## 15

# Juniper

My heart was numb.

Standing in the middle of the Page Break Bookshop, I couldn't help my wandering mind when it settled on Sebastian. Things had fallen apart so easily, and it wasn't until he was gone I'd realised just how deeply he'd dug into my life. Those stormy eyes had been a category five hurricane, smashing through everything I was and ever would be. Sebastian Hale had left a wound so deep, I wasn't sure it'd ever heal.

He'd only been in my life for three weeks. _Three fucking weeks_. I was my mother's daughter, through and through.

"This is a prime position," Helena Hopkins said, scribbling something on her clipboard with her fancy silver biro. "Main road, heritage façade, two-story, facing the ocean, residential _and_ commercial overlay."

Helena was one of the local real estate agents, and I watched her wander around the Page Break Bookshop with a sick feeling in my stomach. Behind me, I felt Vanessa glare at me through the window.

"So you think I could get a good price?" I bit my bottom lip, anxious to hear the results of the evaluation.

Helena smoothed down her black blazer and tugged at her black, white, and gold silk scarf—the colours of the agency—with her free hand and smiled.

"I think we can get you a good price, Miss Rowe. A _very_ good price."

"I've known you most of my life, Mrs. Hopkins," I said, my hopes rising slightly. "Please, call me Juniper."

"Juniper." She smiled. "Are you sure you want to sell? This place has been in your family for over twenty years."

She was right, I was considering selling what was basically my childhood home, but I wasn't sure I had any other option. I couldn't afford to keep running the Page Break at a loss, even though I owned the building. Council rates and all of the other things that went with being a responsible homeowner ate almost everything I was able to bring in, even with the summer trade.

Glancing out the window, I didn't have it in me to return Vanessa's glare. Hugo's family owned the pizza place and the fish 'n' ship shop, so she could afford to hang out with me all day and not get paid. I knew she wanted me to keep the Page Break, but I wasn't sure she fully understood.

Turning back to Mrs. Hopkins, I noted she didn't ask me to call her Helena. "I'm weighing my options. Business isn't what it used to be."

"That's the way of the world, I'm afraid. Progress in the big city squashes towns like ours." She clucked her tongue and wrote something on the form clipped on her clipboard. "I'll have some figures drawn up for you as soon as possible. For sale _and_ lease. Give you some options to think over." And of course, she'd be glad to handle both.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hopkins."

"I can't believe you've got the gall to come back here!" Vanessa's raised voice echoed from outside, and Mrs. Hopkins and I turned to find her shouting at someone who was standing just out of view of the windows.

A pang of I don't know what tore through my chest and I glanced at Mrs. Hopkins.

"As I was saying," she said, clearing her throat, "you have options, Juniper. You could rent the shop and apartment separately. There's a lot of money to be made in short-term holiday leases."

"I don't want to hear it!" Vanessa was still jabbing her finger at someone down the footpath. "That fucking woman is pure, and you accuse her of selling you out? You piece of shit!"

Ziggy started to bark, pulling on his lead.

"She's in there talking about selling the Page Break!" Vanessa went on. "She doesn't want the stinking tabloid's money! She never did!"

Oh fuck. Sebastian was out there.

Mrs. Hopkins blinked, dazed by the commotion outside. "Uh, I can help you get started if that's what you want to do..."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hopkins," I said ushering her towards the door. "I'll have a look at the figures when they're ready and we can talk about it then. I just need to know my options first."

"Okay. I'll give you a call in a day or two." She fussed with her clipboard and I knew she'd go straight back to the real estate office and tell Marg—Vanessa's gossipy rival—all about what happened here today, and my private business would be all over town before dinner.

I opened the door and the commotion instantly ceased. Mrs. Hopkins glanced at Vanessa, then towards the spot I supposed Sebastian was standing, before striding down the footpath, her heels clicking on the concrete.

I couldn't even bring myself to look at him. If I did, I wasn't sure what would happen.

Staring at Ziggy—who sat and watched me with his little brown eyes—I began dreaming of the dog's life yet again—sleeping, eating, and bodysurfing. It sounded better than my current predicament, which was shoved between a rock and a hard place.

"Do you mind?" I snapped. "You're shouting my business down the fucking street."

"Juniper, can I—"

"No," Vanessa snapped at him. "You can't anything with her. You might be a rock star fuckwit, but that doesn't mean you can treat my best friend like crap. She's got enough to worry about without you breaking her heart."

"Vanessa," I said, my shoulders sagging.

"No, he needs to hear it, Juni. You're the best person I know. I'm going to protect you. So is Ziggy." She glared at Sebastian. "I've been teaching him how to go for the crotch."

"He's a smart dog," he drawled. "I'm sure he'd like a bit of sausage."

I snorted and rubbed my eyes, still not strong enough to look at the man who'd stolen my heart. Was this how Mum felt when she met Dad all those years ago at the Bluesfest? I wished she was around to ask.

"Juniper, I came back to apologise," Sebastian said. "I was wrong."

"A man admitting he was wrong? Witchcraft," Vanessa scoffed and pointed at Sebastian. "Ziggy. Go for the cock. _Go for the cock_." The little Jack Russell stared up at her and tilted his head back and forth, listening to her commands but not following. "You're hopeless."

"I haven't done this before," Sebastian began.

"What? Grovel?" I rolled my eyes. Could you get eye strain from doing that? _Sure felt like it_.

He took a step towards me. "Juniper, look at me." I couldn't. "I know you didn't tip of the paparazzi. Robbo did."

"Robbo?" Vanessa exclaimed.

I slapped my palm against my forehead. _Great_.

"Juniper, I need to explain a few things to you," he went on. "But not on the street. Can we go inside?"

"No!" Vanessa shouted, still trying to protect my virtue.

"Stop," I said, holding up my hand.

Gathering my courage, I looked at Sebastian for the first time since he'd shown up. He looked strung-out and on edge, his eyes full of desperation. My fingers ached, and I curled my hands into tight fists, my nails biting into my skin.

I knew who he was now and tasted him on my tongue, but the way I gravitated towards him simply by looking at the man was terrifying. It was magnetic. Could I walk away from it, knowing how rare that kind of feeling was? People went their whole lives and never found serenity, let alone love.

"Come in," I said much to Vanessa's disapproval.

Sebastian stepped into the Page Break and I shot her a look. She pouted and stuck her nose into the air before dragging Ziggy down the footpath.

Sighing, I turned and closed the door, shutting out the cold. Sebastian's aura filled the space, drawing me ever closer.

"You're selling?" He glanced at me and I shrugged.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough. I wouldn't want to talk to me about it, either."

I bit my bottom lips and glanced at the poster behind the counter. The one my mum had saved from the first ever Byron Bay Bluesfest. The same festival where she'd met my dad. I had to believe the things I'd told Sebastian. We weren't our parents. I wasn't my mother, and he wasn't the reincarnation of my bloody father, either.

"Why did you say those things?" I asked, my chest bursting. "I was real the entire time. I was honest about things. I came to you about that tabloid because I was worried they'd find you and the shit would hit the fan. I never thought about the money. Not really."

"I know," he whispered.

He knew, but what had I done wrong?

"What did I do?" I asked.

"Nothing."

My knees wobbled, and I leaned against the counter to steady myself.

"I overreacted," Sebastian said. "I jumped to conclusions and lashed out at you."

"Why did you even bother coming back?" Tears misted my eyes, but my anger was hotter than my broken heart. "If I was just another throw away fuck, then I shouldn't matter. It isn't like your reputation can't handle another angry woman."

"Because, up until that moment, I told you the truth," he said, closing the gap between us. "Everything I told you was real. Everything I feel for you is real. I was just... I saw that guy with his fucking camera and I let my fear overrule my heart."

I wanted to believe him, but there were still doubts in my mind. Our lives were just too different and at some point, something had to give.

"Juniper, you terrify me."

I froze. "What?"

"Everything about you—about the things we're doing—it terrifies me. I've never had this." His fingers grazed mine. "I don't know what to do."

"You think I do?" I scoffed and snatched my hand away. "It took a lot for me to let you in. It isn't a rock-star-specific problem, you know."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know how else to show it to you. Right now, both our lives are..."

He didn't seem to know how to finish his thought, so I punctuated it for him. "Fucked?"

Sebastian snorted and raked his fingers through his hair. "Something like that."

"So what do we do, Sebastian?" I looked at him for an answer I knew he didn't have. "Do we end this, or—"

"No," he interrupted. "You forgive me for being a twat, then we try again."

"Try? How about starting with telling me why you disappeared in the first place. A little honesty might help."

"And maybe you should tell me about your financial problems," he fired back.

I grimaced and lowered my gaze. "I didn't... I didn't want to get my hopes up."

"About?"

"You and me. I know how these things work, but for a moment, I forgot about all my problems," I murmured, my cheeks heating. "I want to be special. I..." I was floundering and sounded like a clingy crackpot.

"You are special, Juniper."

"I'm a nobody."

"You're a somebody to me."

Sebastian pulled me into his arms and this time, I didn't swat him away. I melted into his embrace and breathed in his scent, clinging to the lapels of his jacket.

"Vix," he began. "She's Beneath's road manager. She found me."

"Oh..." So he had to go back. It was inevitable, but it didn't stop it from stinging. The more we talked, the more confused I became. "Did you want to fix things before you left or something?"

"Yes and no," he replied, his fingers caressing through my hair. "I have a contract. If I break it, they can destroy me."

"So you have to go."

"There's a concert in Melbourne in two weeks," he went on. "If I'm not there—"

"You don't sound thrilled about it," I muttered.

"You want to know why I cut out?" He pulled back. "I knew the label had been doing dodgy shit behind out backs, but it wasn't until recently I knew how much was staged. They'd been pulling our strings all these years, and I didn't even know it. They've manipulated all of us from day one. It's gotten to the point I don't even know who I am anymore. Problem is, I'm the only one who gives a shit."

"You're famous now," I said. "Fight back."

"I don't have an army of lawyers on retainer."

I didn't know what he wanted me to say.

"Rock 'n' roll will save your life... but the fame will kill you."

Was it really that bad? I stared at him, puzzling out his words, trying to see through all the smoke and mirrors. The shell wasn't the man inside. Maybe I'd caught glimpses, but not even Sebastian seemed to know who he was.

"Juniper," he swallowed hard, his gaze falling to my lips, "please forgive me. My life is a fucking hurricane, but you... you're the eye of the storm. With you I can be still while the world rages around us. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of the man I could be, the man I _want_ to be. _You showed him to me_."

He pressed his forehead against mine, his stormy eyes searching mine for an answer. Even after the things he'd said to me, I was powerless to resist. I'd become entangled with this enigmatic man, consequences be damned.

I brushed my lips over his and it was all it took to spark him to life. He speared his fingers into my hair and took my mouth in a hungry kiss, sweeping his tongue against mine. His taste was heady and his closeness was almost too much to bare. My nipples ached and my clit throbbed as we entwined.

"Seb..." My palms scratched over his stubble, and his hands moved down my back and cupped my arse, holding me tight.

"The more I think about it, the more I think you're the link, Juni." _He called me Juni_...

"God, is this what it's going to be like?" I asked through a moan.

"Which part?" His lips moved to the soft skin underneath my ear.

"All of it."

"Some of it, yeah." He kissed me softly. "The other parts of it, I hope not."

"What do we do?" I whispered, cupping the back of his neck. "I've gone through life having to look after everyone else, but I don't know how to look after myself."

"We've got a little time," he replied returning his gaze to mine. "We can hang out here and do the getting to know you part. You tell me your favourite things and your life story, and I'll tell you mine. Nothing's off limits."

"You want to know all my hopes and dreams?" I raised my eyebrows. It was _so_ not a bad boy rock star thing to say.

"Yeah."

"In two weeks?" I couldn't fathom it, but then again, I'd fallen hard for the guy in the space of two seconds flat. Maybe it wasn't such a crazy notion.

"Yeah," he said again.

"Last time we were together, we didn't get out of bed for three days."

"I know." Sebastian smirked and tightened his grip on my arse.

"I'm still sore."

"I can give you a massage."

" _Sebastian_."

He chuckled softly, his hands moving to my lower back. "Does this mean you forgive me?"

I nodded. He had me hook, line, and fucked up sinker. "Shit, _yes_."

I pressed my palm against his chest before he could catch me in another kiss. "Be careful, Sebastian," I warned. "If you screw up again, you'll have Ziggy to contend with."

He threw his head back and let out a deep laugh that shook his chest. "I'll keep that in mind."

## 16

# Sebastian

When I fucked Juniper that night after a breathless walk on the beach, it was better than the first time. I didn't know what it was about make-up sex, but it trumped just about everything. Then she'd sucked me awake.

Juniper Rowe, huh? Thinking back to that first day on the beach, I smiled. Who would've thought all that was underneath that jacket and foul mouth.

Outside, the sun was rising. Staring at the ceiling of her apartment, I felt the warmth of her body as she coiled it around mine. Naked in bed was fast becoming my favourite place to be with her. Hell, I'd take just being with her, too.

"If you need cash to keep the shop open, I'll give it to you," I said, the thought bypassing my brain and going straight to my mouth.

She didn't reply straight away, and my heart began to beat double-time. It was the exact same thing I'd blasted her about the other day and here I was practically throwing hundred-dollar bills at her face.

"No," she said, filling the silence, "I couldn't."

"Well, I'm offering. No strings."

"I can't take money from you, Sebastian."

"Why not?" I narrowed my eyes. Wasn't my cash good enough for her?

"You'd be bailing out a dying business," she said, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. "It's a bad investment."

"If it's what you love, then there's nothing bad about it."

"If I can't turn a profit, it doesn't matter how much I care about it," she argued. "What about your band? In the early days, were you making money?"

I snorted and shook my head. "Nah. We made CDs on Damon's computer and sold them for five bucks a hit. We broke even for those. Most times we were paid in beer, or enough to cover the petrol in Josh's beat-up van."

"Breaking even is better than losing cash. You had no overheads. I need a better business model."

"Seems you know a thing or two about management," I said. "The offer is still there if you want it."

Her brow creased and she looked at me. "I can't take your money. I won't."

"Okay," I whispered, holding her close. I could respect her conviction. When it came to business, it was difficult to separate the personal from the professional. I supposed that was my problem, too. "What do you think you'll do?"

"I don't know. I'm still waiting on the figures from Mrs. Hopkins."

"The real estate lady?"

"Yeah."

I could see the worry in her eyes. The uncertainty over her future was eating at her from the inside out. I knew what I had to do—well, what I was _contracted_ to do—but Juniper's future was wide open. The Page Break and her mother had been her entire life, but without it, I didn't think she knew who she wanted to be.

"Come to Melbourne with me," I said, my heart sparking with hope. "Come to the concert, see what I do, then we can decide."

" _We_ can decide?"

"I want to make this work, Juniper. You and me. I want to see where it goes." I brushed my hand over the curve of her waist, relishing the shiver that ran down her spine from my touch. She was fucking perfect. Perfect and pure.

"I don't know," she murmured. "Maybe your life is too big for me to handle. I mean, screaming fans? I live in a town of one hundred people."

"Give it a try," I urged. "You don't know until you see with your own eyes, right?"

"I suppose..."

She still sounded uncertain, so I went for broke. "You could come on tour and see the world."

Her eyes lit up and she bit her bottom lip. She did that a lot.

"I always wanted to see Paris," she murmured.

"Then I'll take you. I haven't seen it, either."

"You haven't seen Paris?"

"Well, I've seen concert venues and hotel rooms."

"That's criminal."

A grin pulled at my lips and I caught her in a kiss. I could feel her smile fade against my mouth and I pulled back.

"I can't afford... I—"

"Don't think about the money," I whispered. "Let me take care of you for a change."

"Sebastian—"

" _Shh_. What's the point of having all this money if I can't spend it on the people I care about?"

Her breath caught, and I coaxed her onto her back.

"Will you come?" I asked.

" _Yes_."

I slipped my hand between her thighs and caressed her soft skin, dipping a finger inside her. She gasped and spread her legs wider, and I plunged deeper, rubbing slow circles over her clit.

"Where else do you want to go?" I murmured into her ear as she began to moan. " _Your wish is my command_."

The beach house was cold and dark when I walked in the front door.

Juniper wanted to spend as much time at her place as possible. Considering everything, I agreed to stay with her until we went back to the city. It seemed pointless to keep renting this big place if no one was going to be in it.

Yeah, she was coming to the concert at Festival Hall with me. She was going to dip her toe into the chaos that the Beneath juggernaut created. She wanted to see how deep our feelings ran just as much as I did. Juniper had taken my hand and we were leaping.

Life seemed within my grasp again.

The moment my phone connected to the WiFi, it began to beep as messages started scrolling down the screen. There were multiple texts from Josh, Damon, and Vix. Emails and photos, too. They couldn't leave me alone for half a day, could they?

I opened Josh's messages with a frustrated sigh. Reading through them, my frustration turned to anger with each one.

_Heads up, arsehole._

_They've found you._

_Have you seen this?_

He'd attached a paparazzi photo of me on the beach, and normally I'd be whatever about it, but Juniper was in it. Her arm was threaded through mine and her free hand was clutching Ziggy's lead. Josh had taken a picture of a magazine page, so the caption was clear at the bottom. _Sebastian Hale and his new mystery girlfriend_.

Shit, shit, _shit!_

Just as I was about to find his number, Josh's name flashed on the screen as an incoming call and I answered it immediately. "When was this published?"

"Hello to you, too," he grumbled. "It was on the stand this morning. Hot off the presses."

" _Fuck_." They worked fast. We'd only taken Ziggy for a walk last night, and besides, Vix had assured me she'd plugged the leak. I'd never have taken Juniper out if I'd known more paps were lurking.

"Are you playing house with your pussy now?" Josh asked with a snort. "Talking long walks on the beach with a girl and her fucking dog? Have you lost your balls?"

" _Don't_ ," I snapped.

"You need to get out of there while the going's good, man. The paps will probably be outside your door and hers in the next half hour."

"I thought Vix stopped it," I said, peering out the windows. I couldn't see anyone on the bluff or the cliffside path, but that didn't mean any photographers weren't lingering. They could probably see me through the floor-to-ceiling windows from underneath their camouflage nets.

"Who knows. You know what these guys are like. They smell cash in the water and it's a free for all. Anyway, we need you back in rehearsals like yesterday."

"I told Vix I'd be back in time for the concert."

"Yeah, on your own terms, you selfish prick. We've been friends a long time, Seb. Sometimes I'd even go as far as calling you my brother from another mother, but right now, I'd gladly see the back end of you."

" _Josh_."

"I know you want to take your fucking stand and protest or whatever it is you're doing, but you not being here hurts all of us. Take one for the team, Seb."

"I can't leave Juniper. She doesn't know how to handle this stuff." They'd dissect her life, drag up painful memories of the past, splash it across the headlines, and eat her alive. Dealing with that kind of poison was my every day life, but she wasn't like me. She was a small-town woman with a pure heart. She'd be obliterated if I didn't do something.

"Don't worry about her, man," Josh said with a sigh. "What did you think was going to happen with her anyway? Were you going to fall in love and run away?"

He said it as a snide joke, but I gritted my teeth and swallowed my anger. _Fall in love and run away_. It didn't sound so bad right about now.

"I'll be back in time for the concert," I said striding into the bedroom and tossing my leather duffle bag onto the mattress.

" _Vix will be proud_."

I hesitated. He said it sarcastically, which wasn't anything new for Josh—that man had a smart-arse streak that rivalled most mean girls—but it was the undercurrent that got me.

"Vix?" I asked, hoping what I suspected wasn't true. "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't play dumb, Seb. You're a smart guy."

"She tipped them off." My blood ran cold and I began to shove my clothes into the bag.

"This is her way of making sure you came back," he went on. "You know she doesn't care about collateral damage. She's got these fucks on speed dial."

" _Bitch_."

"Yeah, tell me something that ain't new." I could hear the eye roll in his voice.

"And you're okay with this?"

"Why are you so fucking mad?" he demanded. "This isn't new, Seb. Even if she didn't tip them off, it would've happened eventually. Does this chick have honey dripping out of her hole or something?"

" _Juniper is different_ ," I shouted.

"Settle down."

"One day, when you finally feel something for someone other than yourself, you'll understand why I'm going to punch you in the face the next time I see you."

Not waiting for his reply, I ended the call and immediately called the Page Break, but the line was engaged. Remembering Juniper had taken the phone off the hook last night, I cursed under my breath. I had to get back there ASAP.

Whirlwinding through the house, I shoved my stuff into my bag—toiletries, razor, clothes, coat—and zipped it closed as I strode towards the foyer. I snatched my car keys from where I'd tossed them on the table in the hall, desperate to get out of here and find Juniper first.

I wrenched open the front door and screeched to a halt, my heart jackhammering in my chest.

"Sebastian, over here!"

"Sebastian! Who's the mystery woman?"

There were fucking photographers everywhere. They'd climbed the fence and were sitting on top of the brickwork, pointing cameras at me and snapping like mad. I was like a rabbit caught in a spotlight, staring at the circus outside my refuge, blinded by the rapid-fire flash bulbs.

" _Tell us about Juniper!_ " someone yelled.

"Is it serious?"

"Are you giving up your career to be with her?"

"Do you love her, Sebastian?

" _What about Mallory?_ "

Slamming the door closed, I beat my fist against the wood and shouted the foulest word I could think of.

It was too late. The vultures had landed.

## 17

# Juniper

For the first time in my life, I could see into the future. I could see possibility, and man, it made me feel alive.

I was going to see Sebastian perform and meet his bandmates. We were going to see the world and get to know one another, and maybe this crazy attraction would turn into something more. It might be forever.

Sebastian Hale might be the guy I finally fell in love with. Maybe I already was. He was always there—in my mind, in my heart, and on my skin.

I smiled and pressed my fingertips against my lips. I wasn't afraid anymore.

We'd decided he'd come and stay with me until we went to the city, so he'd left a while ago to go pack his things. My body hummed with the afterglow of our morning ritual—his cock in me as we came—and I began to make plans.

The fate of the Page Break was still heavy on my mind, and I knew I had to make a decision sooner rather than later.

First things first, I had to take a detailed inventory of all the stock, then decide what I'd do with it. Have a massive sale or try to unload some of it in bulk to another seller, or maybe it wasn't worth the hassle. Maybe it was all bound for a recycling plant.

I dressed in comfy jeans, a grey wooly jumper, and my trusty combat boots, and made my way downstairs. It was murky amongst the shelves, the familiar scent of old books wafting up my nose. I'd miss that smell.

I opened the blinds with a flourish, determined to get in a good start before Sebastian came back. No doubt he'd be the ultimate distraction.

The canvas rolled up and bright flashes of light blinded me.

"Juniper! Over here!"

"Juniper! Are you in love with Sebastian?"

"Are you worried about Mallory?"

"Is it true that your father committed suicide?"

"Where's Ziggy?"

For a split second I stood there staring at the chaos on the footpath outside the Page Break Bookshop, wondering if I was in a nightmare. Photographers were jammed up against the glass, taking photos of me and shouting questions I didn't know the answers to. Questions all about Sebastian Hale.

I let out a panicked yelp and yanked the blinds down, shutting them out. They hammered on the window, shouting my name, determined to get a reaction out of me.

_Holy fuck_.

My heartbeat sped up to dangerous levels and I scurried into the back of the shop, hiding behind the true crime section.

"Is that the dog?" I heard someone say. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" Vanessa screeched. "Who are _you_?"

"Do you know Juniper? Any comment about her relationship with Sebastian Hale?"

"Yeah, I've got a comment," she declared. "EAT SHIT, SCUMBAG!"

The door rattled and the lock clicked, sending my anxiety into overdrive. Brandishing a heavy coffee table book—on the coral reefs of the world—I said a prayer. _Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone!_

I peeked around the bookcase and sighed when I saw Vanessa squeeze through the tiny gap. Behind her, flashbulbs popped as people tried to shove their cameras through the crack. She slammed the door in their faces, holding the blind closed.

Ziggy rushed in and leapt against my legs, whining excitedly, and I put down the book.

"Holy fuck, Juni!" Vanessa said, making sure the door was locked tightly. "What's going on?"

"I guess the paparazzi found Sebastian."

"Gee, I've seen media scrums on TV, but that was insane. There's gotta be like twenty guys out there."

"Twenty?" I swallowed hard, my stomach churning. I was going to throw up all those bloody possibilities I was fawning over before I opened the blinds.

"They're all over the place," she went on. "I was at the IGA when Marg told me she'd seen them rolling into town. They're up at the beach house, too."

The hammering on the windows started up again and Ziggy began to bark, running back and forth along the length of the shopfront.

"Ziggy!" Vanessa called, clapping her hands. "Shut up! _Ziggy!_ "

"I don't know what to do," I said though a moan. "What am I supposed to say?"

"Nothing," my friend said as she wrangled the little Jack Russell. "You tell them shit all. It's none of their business." She took out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. "I'm calling Sargent Conway. He'll give them the bum's rush."

"They're right," I said. "What about Mallory? What about the world?"

" _Fuck Mallory and her autotune._ "

"This is Sebastian's world," I murmured, crumpling to the floor. Ziggy had finally calmed down some and sat beside me, resting his head on my knee. "This is what he has to deal with every day."

"He should've been here to protect you from this," Vanessa said with a scowl. "He should've done something to stop it."

I stroked the soft black fur around Ziggy's ears and stared into his warm, chocolate eyes. _Oh Ziggy, what am I supposed to do?_

"Where's Sebastian? Has he called you?"

"I haven't heard anything since he left this morning." I waved my middle finger at the windows. "I assume he's stuck at the beach house."

"He should be here," she seethed. "If he cared, he would be here."

I was thinking the same thing, but another voice was whispering in my ear that maybe he was stuck.

"What am I going to do? I'm going to be stuck in here forever and my corpse will mummify."

"You can come and stay with me and Hugo for as long as you want," Vanessa offered. "I know Ziggy would love to have you twenty-four-seven. He gets to go bodysurfing when you take him out. You're the fun auntie."

I laughed despite the shit storm outside. "I think they'd find me there, too. I can't bring this insanity into your life. It's been half an hour and I'm already drowning in it."

Somehow, I knew this was only the beginning. I imagined reporters would be going all over town, talking to everyone and anyone who knew something about me. Knowing how they loved to talk about something juicy, I was about to find myself stuck up shit's creek with my paddle wrenched out of my flailing hands.

Crawling across the floor, I peeked over the edge of the counter and saw the phone was off the hook. No wonder Sebastian hadn't called. I put it back on and immediately, it started to ring.

"Gimme that." Vanessa snatched up the receiver. "Hello?" She listened to the caller and rolled her eyes. "And you can go eat a giant, steaming turd." Slamming the phone down, she gave me a frustrated look. "You better keep that unplugged."

What was I supposed to do? The world was spinning yet again. When Mum died, I just got up and dealt with shit. I kept myself busy and survived. I could do it again, one step at a time.

"I have to get on with it," I said, glancing around the shop. "I'll keep the blinds closed and figure out what to do with all these books."

"You're still going to sell?"

I shrugged, the lingering oppression of the waiting paparazzi still threatening to overwhelm me. "Sell, rent... I don't know. I do know the Page Break, as we know it, has to wind down."

Vanessa sighed and ran her fingers over the spines of the arts section by the counter. "It's just—"

"An end of an era," I finished off.

"What a way to go out." The front door rattled and she sighed. "What about Sebastian?"

It was the million-dollar question. If this was his life, hounded and preyed upon, then I wasn't sure the possibility of more was enough. Would we have to hide behind bodyguards and security fences twenty-four-seven? We wouldn't even be able to take a walk along the beach without fear of being photographed. Our lives would be dissected and discussed on prime-time television. Everyone with a fucking keyboard would have an opinion about us.

I was just a woman who didn't know who she was, with a failing bookshop to boot.

"He asked me to go with him," I said. "He said he wanted to try to make things work."

"Go with him where? On tour or something?"

"To Melbourne first. There's some concert there he has to do." I glanced at the windows, the darkness starting to get to me. "But I don't know..."

"You told him you'd go, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but then I woke up to all this." My throat tightened and I choked back tears. "Hearing about it is one thing, but it's an entirely different story when it's shoved into your face and smooshed around."

"You'll have to face it sooner or later."

"Oh, I know."

"Let's just worry about today first." Vanessa glanced at the windows, then out the back. "So you need those evaluation papers from that scrag Hopkins?" I nodded. "You keep an eye on Ziggy and I'll climb the back fence. Then I'll find a way to get to Sebastian and smack his arse."

I stared up at her. "You'd climb the back fence for me?"

"You're going to owe me, just saying."

The moment the word left her mouth, the back door started to rattle and we glanced at one another.

"I feel like I should get a knife or something," she said.

Ziggy growled as I rose to my feet and approached the door.

"Stand back," Vanessa said. "I'll make sure it isn't a bad guy."

She made her way through the stacks of books and into the back room. I could see her through the opening with Ziggy on her heels. The door rattled and a sliver of sunlight brightened the shadows as she peeked out.

"Oh, lookie what we have here. It's the man of the hour," she drawled, letting in none other than Sebastian.

" _Juniper_." He wove past her, strode though the shop, and wound his arms around me. I was so stunned, relieved, and confused, and I let him embrace me. "I'm sorry. I didn't know they'd show up like this. _Fucking vultures_."

I believed him, but it didn't change the fact that they were here and would probably be here for a long time to come. At least while there was money to be made.

"Did they see you?" Vanessa asked. "Last thing I have patience for is twats climbing into the backyard."

"They aren't out there yet," he replied. "But it won't take long for them to try and find a new angle."

Vanessa looked to me for permission to leave and I nodded. "I'll be back," she glared at Sebastian, " _soon_."

The door closed softly, and we were alone. Well, as alone as we could be with an army of photographers slobbering on my front windows.

Sebastian and I stared at one another, keeping our distance. The weight of the paparazzi outside was palpable, neither one of us willing to start what would end up as an argument.

"How did you get out of the beach house?" I finally asked.

"I know a few tricks," he replied. "Juniper." He took a step towards me.

"I just want to be left alone," I said. "I can't handle all of this. _I can't_. I'm not important or talented or _anything_."

"You are all of those things."

No, no, I wasn't. I was just a regular woman trying to make it in the world. I'd never aspired to be rich or famous. I was happy with my small, uncomplicated life. Wasn't I? I looked at Sebastian and felt things I'd never felt before, but was all this pain worth the possibility of love?

"Is this what it'll be like?" I stared at him, willing him to say no. _Please say no_.

He lowered his gaze. "Probably."

I scoffed and turned away, slinking into the darkness.

"Juniper, please—"

"Please, what?" I exclaimed. "They're outside my house! They know about my dad. They're asking all sorts of personal questions. _They won't go away!_ "

"I'm sorry. I'm so _sorry_."

I wiped away a tear. "They're not going to stop, are they?"

He shook his head.

" _Great._ "

"You can still come with me," he pleaded. "I can protect you from all this."

"It's too late, Sebastian!" I cried. "We both know how this is going to end."

"How?" he demanded. "How is it going to end? You can't know that, Juniper. No one knows their future unless they leap. My feelings haven't changed. _I want you_."

I backed away, my fear getting the better of me. "You better leave before they find out you're here."

"Juniper, _please_."

" _I can't!_ " I shouted. "I can't handle this. I'm coming apart and it's only the beginning."

"We can work it out. I can get rid of them and sue their arses."

"It's a fantasy, Sebastian." A tear escaped my eye and I knew we'd been doomed from the start. "Maybe that's all it was meant to be."

He stared at me, his expression falling into despair. His eyes swirled with emotion and he raked his hand through his messy hair.

"So that's it?" he choked out. "You're just giving up?"

"I'm not giving up," I whispered. "I'm moving on."

"Juniper. _I need you_."

I shook my head and turned away so he wouldn't see me cry. "You don't need me. It was the idea of me you wanted. You know what to do now."

" _Fuck_. You're wrong," he murmured, his voice wavering. "You're so fucking wrong."

His footsteps echoed through the dark shop, then I heard the back door open. I squeezed my eyes shut as it closed with a slam, the sound tearing through my chest.

Ziggy emerged from his spot underneath the counter and did a figure eight between my legs. Then he sat and looked up at me with his big brown eyes.

I was right. I had to believe I was right.

## 18

# Juniper

They were printing stories about my family now.

My dad's suicide was splashed over the front of glossy magazines, re-tweeted and shared online. The Page Break Bookshop's social media pages were flooded with tags and comments, most of them awful. I was getting death threats from Mallory Grigorio fans who all seemed to think she and Sebastian were a hot item and I was the trashy home-wrecker. Keyboard warriors were telling me to throw myself off a cliff like my father. I'd be doing them a favour, they said.

Sargent Conway had tried to shoo the media scrum away yesterday, but he was pretty much ignored. He was the only cop in town, so crowd control was totally out of his power. I'd drawn the blinds and hidden in darkness, with my tears as my only company. I was a prisoner in my own home.

They were making money off my misery while I faced complete financial and emotional ruin. The only people who were profiting were the callous sharks outside.

Later that day, I managed to get a call out to Mrs. Hopkins.

"Oh, Juniper," she said, "are you okay?"

I was numb. I couldn't let anything through my armour. I had to keep going.

"I'm calling about the evaluation," I replied, ignoring her question. "I've made a decision."

Vanessa turned up the following day, sans Ziggy.

The frenzy had died off downstairs, but there were still a few photographers out on the footpath. They'd brought camp chairs and picnic baskets and had dug in for the long haul. They knew I had to come out eventually.

"Hey," she said standing beside me. "How are you?"

"Awful." I sighed and closed my eyes for a second. "It'll stop eventually, right?"

"Of course it will. They'll get bored soon enough and things will die down."

But I'd never feel the same again. For better or worse, Sebastian had marked my soul, but life still went on. The bills still needed to be paid, the books needed to be balanced, and decisions needed to be handed down.

"Have you decided what to do with the Page Break?" Vanessa asked.

"I'm selling," I replied. "I'm selling and getting out of here."

"But... but—" Vanessa's bottom lip started to tremble.

"The Page Break is a failure, my love life is a failure, and I'm a failure."

"No, you're not!"

I grunted. Everything seemed so futile right now and having my entire past, and everyone's opinion about it, shoved down my throat wasn't helping. Sebastian was right about the spiral. When it caught you, it was difficult to pull yourself out, even if you had help.

"But where will you go?" Vanessa asked.

Maybe I should cut my hair and colour it black or something. Pack a suitcase and just go to Paris like I always wanted. Mrs. Hopkins said she'd be able to get a good price for this place. The reserve price she'd estimated was eye-watering, but she thought she could get more on top of that—and that figure didn't even include the stock. If I was clever, that kind of cash would last me a long time. I could bootstrap it across the world and become someone new.

For the first time in days, I felt a genuine spark of hope. I could have a clean slate. Wipe away all the heartache, forget the tragedies of my past, and find out who the fuck I was supposed to be. I didn't know where I was going, but I hoped it would be beautiful when I got there.

"That's the beauty," I said. "I could go anywhere."

"Do you love him?"

Her words grated against my heart. I thought about all the intimate moments I'd shared with Sebastian, the truths he'd whispered into my ear, the feelings that'd coursed through my veins when he'd fucked me, and I couldn't help but think that maybe it could've come to that. To love. But, in the real world, there was always a but.

"I could have," I said, staring over the main street and towards the ocean. "But his life is too big for me."

"How do you know?"

"You're seriously asking me that?" I exclaimed, glaring at her and pointing at the window. "Where have you been the last few days? Siberia?"

"You never set foot in his 'world!'" She air quoted the last part. "You dipped a toe, and granted it wasn't the best temperature, but you've only seen the ugly side. One tiny, minuscule part."

I shook my head, clutching onto my stubbornness like a life raft.

"You're closing yourself off, Juni," Vanessa went on. "I'm the first person to stand up and protect you because that's what true friends do, but you're acting stupid."

"Stupid?" I scoffed. "I've been torn apart by his world. I've had death threats from strangers! You don't know what that's like!"

"Yeah, and that's shit, but it wasn't him. It wasn't Sebastian who said those things. You're punishing him for circumstances that are out of his control."

"You're on his side now?"

"I'm on your side!" she shouted. "I'm on the side that gets you your happy ending, Juni. I've seen you struggle all these years, first taking care of your mum, then cleaning up the mess she left behind. That's not even counting the stuff with your dad. You owe it to yourself to open your fucking eyes and see the possibility that Sebastian could love you. He needs you to love him, Juni. Fate brought him here and—"

"Fate?" I scoffed. "Is fate supposed to hurt this much? Is fate supposed to make me afraid to go out my front door?"

"Love sucks," she declared. "Love will kick you in the nuts and laugh while you're rolling around on the ground, but when it shines... _fuck_. When it shines, love is worth all of this, times a million."

Pursing my lips together, I turned towards the window. Outside, the wind was rising and the antique glass panes began to rattle.

"You're making a mistake, Juniper," my best friend declared. "A big fucking mistake."

"Good thing it's not your life, Ness."

Two days later, while still in a haze of numbness, I lingered inside the Page Break as a 'for sale' sign was stuck on the window.

What Sebastian said was right. Rock 'n' roll will save your life... but the fame will kill you.

## 19

# Sebastian

"She's selling her shop."

I stared over the Melbourne skyline and resisted the urge to smash my fist through the window. Mostly because I'd break my hand and not even dent the glass.

"It's a good thing, you know," Josh went on, giving his opinion even though I didn't want it. "She can set herself up someplace else with that kind of money."

Someplace else wasn't _here_.

I turned and scowled at my best mate, and lead guitarist of Beneath. We'd known each other forever, since we'd been bratty university students with wandering cocks, but right now I felt I was farther away from him than I'd ever been.

He had his hair tied back in a man bun, his black jeans had holes in the knees, the vintage Nirvana tee he wore was washed out to the point that it was about to fall apart, and the black eye he sported was courtesy of my fist. The first thing I'd done when I got back to the city was make good on my promise to punch him in the face.

His scuffed boots were kicked up onto the coffee table as he flicked through the latest copy of the glossy tabloid _Stargazers_. I didn't even want to know where he'd gotten it.

The penthouse at Crown Towers was one of the most lavish hotel rooms in the city. It overlooked the Yarra River and the city and had every comfort a cashed-up rock star could want. Save for one thing money couldn't buy—Juniper Rowe.

"Shit, this stuff is like a soap opera," Josh declared, holding up the magazine. "Did you know her daddy threw himself off a cliff?"

"Gimme that." I snatched the tabloid from his hands and threw it into the bin. "Don't read that shit, mate. It'll rot your brain."

"You need to forget about her, man. She dumped you, remember?"

"She was rattled by the paparazzi, thanks to fucking Vix."

"You can cry and stamp your foot all you want, but it worked. You're back." He leaned forward and slapped me on the leg. "Change out of your nappy, cry baby, and grow your balls back. We've got a fucking album to release, or have you forgotten about the music? I hear it's all that matters to you these days."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Josh fished his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen. "You need to change your Instagram password."

I snatched the phone from his hands and glared at the picture. It was a photo of the venue for this weekend's concert with some stupid fucking light leak filter over it. The caption read, ' _Pumped for this weekend's show @FestivalHall #rocknroll **#Beneath**_ **'.** It already had ten thousand likes and half as many comments. Obviously, it was Vix's handiwork. Damage control, I'm sure.

"I can't do this shit anymore," I said throwing Josh's phone at him.

"Calm your farm," he cried. "Smash your own shit, bro."

"I'm just expected to get on with it like nothing ever happened."

"It's been a week." He shrugged. "Whatever."

"Whatever? Juniper could be the one, man. _The fucking one_."

He raised his eyebrows and looked me over like he was seeing me for the first time. And maybe he was. "Fuck, you really care that much about her?"

I threw my hands into the air. "I've only been trying to tell you that for the last month."

I began to pace back and forth, wracking my brain for anything that'd help me get through to Juniper. So far, all my attempts had been futile. The Page Break's phone was disconnected and all her social media accounts were deleted. I couldn't blame her, really. The abuse she'd been copping was disgusting on so many levels. She didn't seem to have any online profiles in her name, either. My last resort was tracking down Vanessa.

Josh snorted. "You're acting like a psycho, just so you know."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Juniper's words came back to me as I stared out over the Melbourne skyline. _The connection between the music and everything else. A link is missing._

I knew what it was now. Why nothing had ever felt one hundred percent right. I'd always been a little off centre, standing half a step out of sync with everything around me. For the longest time I'd believed it was just who I was, but now I saw it for what it was.

The missing link was love. It was her. _Juniper_. Without her, all this was nothing but a nightmare I couldn't wake from.

"I need a pen," I said, striding to the desk and opening a drawer.

"What do you need a fucking pen for?" Josh asked, watching me with a perplexed look on his face. He thought I had a screw loose.

"I need to write a letter."

He rolled his eyes and stood, making for the minibar. "Write her an email like everyone else in the twenty-first century."

"An email won't work," I said, finding a biro in the drawer. "I need to write this one by hand. Don't you know that's how all the greatest love letters were written?"

Josh snorted and twisted the cap off a tiny bottle of Jack Daniels. "You need to go to rehab."

## 20

# Juniper

The only direction I knew was one foot in front of the other.

Almost a week after Sebastian left, the paparazzi seemed to realise they weren't going to get any more shots of us together. They'd packed up and headed back to wherever they'd come from, somewhere between the death threats and the ginger jokes. The chaos had died down for the most part, but a few photographers had dug in their heels and stuck around. Seemed like they were waiting for a miracle that would never happen. Sebastian and I were over.

We were so over, I felt it in my very being.

The Page Break looked like a bomb had hit it. Standing amongst piles of yellowing books of all shapes and sizes, I began pulling apart the romance section. Some were going to be recycled, others were being boxed up ready to be sold in bulk to a reseller I'd found in Melbourne.

I sneezed as dust filled my nose and I tossed a dogeared Mills & Boon novel into the box labelled 'recycle.'

An abrupt knock at the door made my heart skip. Vanessa had a key, so she usually let herself in. Who knew what I'd find on the other side of the door these days.

Brushing off my hands, I tiptoed over to the door and peeked behind the blind. Seeing it was Mrs. Hopkins, I sighed in relief and unlocked the door, letting in a waft of crisp, clean air.

"Oh, Juniper! I've got good news," she chirped before glancing nervously at the four photographers across the road.

"Come in," I said, opening the door so she could slip inside. "Don't worry about them. My value goes down every minute, so they'll be gone soon enough."

"I'm so sorry you have to go through that," she said, setting her handbag down on the counter. "We all want a little love, but to have it printed in a gossip magazine like that? I can't imagine." Glancing around the shop she raised her eyebrows. "You're getting sucked into it, huh?"

I stepped over a pile of romance novels and wiped the dust off the empty shelf where they'd just been. "I've got a guy interested in buying the entire inventory, but there's a lot to go through. He doesn't want duplicates of old titles, just new stuff."

"Well, I've got some great news that'll hopefully lift your spirits," she declared, taking out a tablet from her bag. "We've got an offer."

"Already?" I paused, the dirty rag in my hand stopping mid-swipe.

It hadn't even been a week and someone already wanted to buy it? Everything was happening so fast and I'd had zero time to get used to the idea my life was going to completely change.

"It's like I told you, the Page Break has prime retail frontage, is heritage listed, and has unique zoning. It's a gem."

"What's the offer?" I asked, my mind turning over at a million miles per hour.

"Five hundred and thirty thousand," Mrs. Hopkins said proudly. "Thirty thousand over asking price, and they want a thirty day or less settlement. You should take it, Juniper. It's a sure thing and they want it sight unseen."

My chest tightened and I blinked. This was life changing money but knowing that's what my mum's life had been reduced into—one lump sum—made a twist of sadness burn my heart.

"Who wants it?" I looked at Mrs. Hopkins. "What do they want to do with this place?"

"Oh, I don't know," she began. "I'm not supposed to give details like that."

"It's important. The Page Break was my mother's legacy. It's hard enough to pack it up and sell. I just want to know someone will care about it in some way."

The older woman smiled, her shoulders relaxing. "It's a couple from the city," she explained. "They want to open a spa and salon, with massage, hair, beauty... the whole lot. They sound quite nice and Point Mambie could do with a place like that. The tourists will lap it up and the locals will love it too."

I tried to imagine mirrors along the walls, basins at the back, the bustle of clients and stylists, the hum of hairdryers, but I just couldn't picture it. Maybe I was just too close to see anything else than what it was. My entire life was lived within these walls, the good and the bad, but I knew it wasn't the bricks and mortar that had made those memories. Mum wasn't in this place, and no amount of holding on would keep her alive. She was in my heart.

I had to let the Page Break go.

"Okay," I said, "I accept."

"Great." Mrs. Hopkins beamed at me. "I'll call them and let them know, and we can get everything started. Don't worry, Juniper, we'll help you every step of the way."

"Thanks." I smiled as she gathered her handbag, but the light never seemed to reach my heart.

I'd been so excited over the possibilities Sebastian wanted to share with me, but now he wasn't here and it all just seemed so sad. Sad and pointless. Being alone had never bothered me that much, but after tasting what being with someone could feel like, the isolation was palpable.

As Mrs. Hopkins left, Ziggy raced between her legs and into the shop, jumping around excitedly. Leaning down, I scratched him behind the ears.

"What's going on?" Vanessa asked, closing the door. "Hopkins have some news?"

"I got an offer," I replied, staring at the empty shelf in front of me. It was like I was staring into a mirror. "Thirty thousand over asking."

"What?" Vanessa's mouth fell open. "That much?"

I nodded. "Seems like the Page Break is going to become a spa and salon before summer rolls around."

"You accepted?"

I shrugged. "It's the deal of the century, or so I hear."

"You don't look very happy about it."

"I'm just..." My words got stuck as a wave of tears threatened to choke me. Swallowing, I said, "I'm numb to everything."

"Oh, Juniper."

My melancholy turned to annoyance and I scowled before returning to the books I'd been sorting. "Don't worry, given enough time, I'll forget any of this ever happened."

"This is for you." She thrust a while envelope in front of me.

"What's this?" My name and the address had been handwritten on the front, but there was no stamp or postmark. I took it from her and turned it over, but there was no return address.

"It's from Sebastian."

A pang of emotion zapped through my body and I dropped the envelope like it'd burned my fingers. It fell to the floor, wedging itself between two piles of books.

He was writing me letters after the way I'd shoved him out of here? _It's not a letter_ , I thought, _it's a non-disclosure agreement._

I had no idea what to say.

"In what universe does a bad boy rock star send handwritten love letters?" Vanessa asked. "You should read it."

"It's not a love letter." I rolled my eyes. "It's a contract. An NDA."

"Juniper, seriously?" She sighed and picked up the envelope and set it on the shelf next to me. "You really have to stop thinking the worst of people."

"Why? People just hurt one another. It's what they do."

"Open it, then," she declared. "Open it and prove me wrong."

"Fine." I snatched up the envelope and tore it open. Pulling out the folded pages inside, I hesitated. "It's..." My hands shook as I unfolded the letter and my eyes skimmed the first few lines.

_Dear Juniper,_

_The time I spent with you was more than a fantasy. It was so much more. I was drowning in darkness and you—_

I closed the letter and wiped away a stray tear. He'd written me a letter. An actual letter in his handwriting.

"Read it," Vanessa said. "When you're ready to make your decision, let me know."

Her words hardly registered, but I nodded.

"Could you..." I took a deep breath. "Could you leave Ziggy?"

"Of course. He's good for emotional support."

Vanessa left the shop and I waited for the lock to click before moving. Sitting cross-legged amongst piles of books and dust with a little Jack Russell at my feet, I opened Sebastian's letter.

* * *

_Dear Juniper,_

_The time I spent with you was more than a fantasy. It was so much more. I was drowning in darkness and you reached out_ _and took my hand._

_You never needed me to be Sebastian Hale to give me the time of day. I was just a guy on a lonely beach in the middle of nowhere, and you were the woman who stopped me from walking a dark path alone._

_You saw me for who I really am, not the product up on a stage._

_You inspire, encourage, and make everything better again._

_You're in my bloodstream. You're in my heart._

_I never intended for things to go this way, for the media to pull apart your life like they did, but I can't deny that the attention is part of my life. As much as I wish it wasn't, it's the price of fame._

_What I can promise you is me._ All of me _. Everything I have, I want to share with you. I want to show you the good in the world because it means nothing without you beside me._

_Come to the concert on Friday. Come to the stage door and ask for me. Let me be yours to do what you will with._

_If you don't come, I'll understand, but I hope you will. There's so much I want to show you, Juniper Rowe. So much._

_Leap with me._

_Yours,_

_Sebastian._

* * *

I set the letter down and I stared into nothingness while my heart swelled and my throat burned. _Leap with me_.

"Oh fuck..." I said to the air, my hands trembling. "I— _Oh fuck_."

_I've made a huge fucking mistake_.

"Ziggy," I said, roughing him up. "Where's your lead? We've gotta go find your mum."

I shot to my feet and he let out a bark, jumping around in circles as I clipped his lead onto his collar. As we left the Page Break, I ignored the chaotic scrambling of the photographers across the road and sprinted towards the pizza shop where I knew Vanessa would be.

It was completely fucking mental and the stuff movies were made of, but I was doing it. I was going to Melbourne.

_I was leaping_.

## 21

# Juniper

This was madness. I stared up at the sign above the door and felt like throwing up.

Darkness wrapped around me and my breath vaporised in the air, the nighttime hum of the city dulled by the descending frost.

The euphoria I'd felt back in Point Mambie had worn off and now I was standing outside the stage door at Festival Hall, hundreds of kilometres away from everything I knew in the Point. I was a quivering mess. Sebastian's letter was heavy in my pocket and his words were lodged in my heart. I could've gone anywhere, but I was here. Ready to leap.

I knocked on the stage door and a moment later, it was wrenched open. A big, bald bouncer in a black polo shirt stared at me, his eyes narrowing.

"What?" he barked, making me jump.

_Courage, Juniper_.

"I'm here to see Sebastian Hale," I replied, my hands shaking. "He's expecting me."

"Yeah, you and everyone else with a pussy." The door slammed in my face.

I blinked in surprise, my heart beat speeding up. Raising my hand, I knocked again. The door opened, and the bouncer glared at me, his annoyance palpable.

"You again?" He rolled his eyes. "Fuck off before I call the cops."

"You don't understand," I argued, "he asked me to come."

"In your dreams, baby." He slammed the door again, this time the gust of wind drove me back a step.

What was I supposed to do now?

Turning, I glanced up and down the street and fought back tears. He'd asked me to come, but I couldn't get past the fucking door. This entire thing was stupid. The concert was sold out and I didn't have a ticket. I had no idea where he was staying or where the band was going next. Beneath's new tour hadn't been announced yet, so I couldn't find him at some other show. I could leave a message on his social media accounts, but I figured those were run by the band's management and my attempts would never pass whatever random assistant was monitoring the comments.

I was stuck. What If I'd missed my chance? What if I'd fucked up my one chance at finding real love?

I took a deep breath to slow my rising panic attack and buried into my leather jacket to stave off the nighttime chill.

" _Hey_."

A guy with a man bun and a studded leather jacket was walking down the footpath with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His gaze was fixed on me and I glanced around nervously, looking for an out, but I was trapped in the little cul-de-sac. The North Melbourne train station was just behind the venue, and since the whole place was a construction zone with track works, the street was blocked off at the end. The only way out was past the angry hipster and I so wasn't in the mood.

"I can't fucking believe it," he said looking me over. "You're that ginger broad from the pap photos."

"Excuse me?"

His gaze raked over my body before returning to my face. "I don't see it, but whatever."

"Who are you?"

"Josh Carroway. Lead fucking guitarist of Beneath."

"Oh." My gut did another flip and it was all I could do to hold onto its contents.

Smirking at me, he smashed his fist against the stage door. When it opened, the bouncer ushered Josh forward, then glared at me. "You're still here? Didn't I tell you to fuck off?"

"She's with me," Josh said not even glancing at the hulking mass of body fat beside him. "Tell her to fuck off again and you'll be fucking off right into unemployment benefits."

"Sorry, Mr. Carroway." The bouncer's eyes widened and he gestured for us to go past.

Josh led me down the hall and laughed. "Fuck, I love it when they piss their pants and call me Mr. Carroway. Funniest shit ever."

He stopped and turned to face me, raising his eyebrows. Now we were in the light, I could see he had a black eye. With his attitude, it was a wonder the other didn't match.

"Thanks," I said, my voice wavering.

"Don't thank me yet, babe," he said, picking up a strand of my hair. "All this almost made Seb quit the band. He's been a miserable bastard since he got back, and you being here might be the one thing that gets his arse on stage tonight. Me helping you get past the moron on the door isn't a sign of approval." He nodded his head to the right. "Down the hall to the right. Don't make me regret overriding Major Fuckface."

I glanced down the hall and swallowed hard. Josh moved off in the other direction, calling out to some people at the end of the opposite corridor.

"Hey, Nate!" he shouted. "You owe me five hundred bucks and a bottle of gin, motherfucker!"

My boots didn't make a sound on the concrete floor as I passed a dressing room door. A piece of laminated paper was stuck on it with the name Damon Whittaker. He was the drummer of Beneath. The next one was Josh's, then just like that, I was standing outside an open door, staring at Sebastian Hale.

I took a tentative step into the room, but he hadn't noticed me yet.

He was pacing back and forth, his hair in disarray. I noticed an unopened bottle of alcohol on the table—some kind of brown spirits—and a beat-up acoustic guitar on the couch. A leather jacket was slung over the back of a chair and a metal rack was against the side wall packed with black and grey clothing. He'd chosen a worn Led Zeppelin tee that had the sleeves ripped off. It showed off his muscled arms and gaped just enough to give me a flash of his ribs. Black jeans and sloppy leather boots finished off his ensemble.

On the surface, he looked every part the brooding rocker from those YouTube videos I'd drooled over, but something else was going on underneath the bad boy exterior.

He looked like I felt—lost, completely lost. When he turned, his gaze collided with mine and he stumbled. " _Juniper_." My name was ecstasy on his lips and it slammed into my heart, reigniting the fire within me.

"I was a fucking idiot," I blurted. "I was scared."

"I know," he murmured.

The sounds of the venue setting up for the imminent concert echoed in the hall behind us. Somewhere far away, the dull boom of a drum kit sounded as the support band took the stage.

"I have no clue what I'm doing," I said, my hands shaking. "I've sold the shop."

"I know."

"You do?" I blinked, then scoffed, "The tabloids still care, huh?"

"They're going to care a whole lot more once they find out how I feel about you."

Time seemed to slow down and my breath caught.

"I don't know who I am," I whispered. "I want you, Sebastian, but..."

"I know," he said again. "It's my turn now."

"For what?"

"To help you find your missing link."

"You found yours?" I asked, my body quivering. I was in complete overdrive. Nothing was working as it should.

"Yeah," he declared, "it's you."

Sebastian strode towards me, his hand slamming the door closed as he gathered me into his arms. When his lips met mine, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Rock 'n' roll had saved my life... _for now_.

_Juniper and Sebastian's story continues in Whole Lotta Lust..._

* * *

_"She was my link between worlds. She anchored the two versions of myself and brought balance to the heaving storm raging within my heart."_
**Other books in the Rock Star Hearts series:**

**_Rock 'n' roll will save your life..._**

* * *

Rock Star Hearts follows the tumultuous romance of small town woman Juniper Rowe and bad boy rock star Sebastian Hale.

Will love conquer all? Or will the price of fame be too hot to handle?

**Whole Lotta Love #1**

**Whole Lotta Lust #2**

**Whole Lotta Sin #3**

**Whole Lotta Heart #4**

**Keep Reading for a sneak peek at Whole Lotta Lust!**
**ABOUT THE AUTHOR**

**AMITY CROSS** is the author of wicked stories about rock stars looking for redemption, gritty romances featuring MMA fighters and dark tales of forbidden romance. She loves to write about alpha males and the strong women who challenge them to fall in love.

* * *

**FIND OUT MORE:**

www.amitycrosswrites.com

# Whole Lotta Lust

### (Rock Star Hearts #2)

**CHAPTER ONE**

**JUNIPER**

The sounds of the concert venue were a dull roar around me as I melted into Sebastian's kiss.

I breathed in his spicy scent and clung to his torn Led Zeppelin tee, my head spinning from my crazy trip from Point Mambie to the city.

"I'm so fucking glad you came," he murmured.

"I almost didn't get in," I replied, taking in his stormy eyes.

Sebastian frowned and combed his fingers through my copper-coloured hair.

"The guy at the door kept slamming it in my face," I explained. "If it wasn't for Josh, I'd still be out there."

"Josh?"

I nodded. Josh was Beneath's lead guitarist. "He seems...colourful."

"What did he say to you?" His voice had a tightness to it, and I began to feel uneasy. From the sounds of it, Sebastian mustn't be on the greatest terms with him. It was one thing for us to be together, but Sebastian came with a whole entourage that I had to get along with.

"Nothing I didn't already expect." I smoothed my palms over his chest and traced the outline of the writing that was printed on the material. "Don't worry about it, okay? Right now, I just want to be with you."

"The letter did the trick, huh?"

I smiled, the anxiety of the last week and a half evaporating. We'd been torn apart by the sudden appearance of the paparazzi and the shock had been too much for me to handle. I freaked out and let them get to me, especially when my dad's suicide had been printed in the tabloids. I'd even started to get death threats on social media.

Up until now, my life had been this little thing—solitary and simple. I'd run the Page Break Bookshop—the name a clever play on the fact it was by the seaside _and_ a secondhand bookstore—and kept to myself mostly, apart from my best friend Vanessa, and her dog, a black and white Jack Russell, named Ziggy.

Then a storm named Sebastian Hale blew into town and turned everything upside-down.

Now I was in his arms, backstage at Festival Hall in Melbourne, about to step into the chaos of life as a rock star's girlfriend, but not just any rock star. Sebastian was the lead singer and guitarist of Beneath, the world's wildest rock 'n' roll band. He was the kind of guy that women wanted to fuck, and men wanted to be. He was hot as sin, rich, powerful, and commanded the love and adoration of their legions of fans.

We'd found each other when we were lost. For Sebastian, his world was fake and reality was out of reach. For me, I'd been on the cusp of financial ruin, forced to sell my mother's legacy, the Page Break Bookshop. Without it, I had no idea who I was supposed to be, but with Sebastian beside me, the world seemed full of possibilities—adventure, happiness, and maybe even love.

I pulled his letter out of my pocket and smoothed it against his chest, straightening out the wrinkles.

"No one's ever written me a love letter before," I said with a grin. "But from you, I wouldn't expect anything less."

"Awesome. I didn't think sending diamonds would work."

I shook my head. "I don't wear any jewellery."

"I know." He glanced around. "You didn't bring anything else with you?"

"There wasn't any time to think about it."

A knock at the door separated us and I stepped back awkwardly, shoving Sebastian's letter into my pocket. A man wearing a headset walked into the room, letting in the sounds of the chaotic backstage setup with him. A phone was in his hand and he didn't even glance up from the screen.

"Twenty minutes," he said, then realised I was standing there. "Oh, sorry."

Sebastian waved a hand at him. "Twenty minutes, got it."

The man smiled at me, then backed out of the room and closed the door.

I looked at Sebastian and felt a shudder ripple through my body. I was going to see him perform in person for the first time. He was going to go out on that stage and do what he did best—tear apart his soul and bleed for his fans—and I'd bear witness, knowing he was all mine afterward.

I sucked on my bottom lip and squeezed my thighs together. Seeing him in videos online had juiced me up enough, but in real life? Man, I was in trouble.

Sebastian reached up and caressed his thumb along my lip, coaxing it from between my teeth.

"Am I going cream my knickers?" I asked, my breath shallow.

He moaned softly and thrust his hands into my hair. Holding me in place, his mouth covered mine. His kiss was hard and desperate, his tongue tasting and devouring. I was putty in his hands, my arousal rising to the point that my clit was throbbing.

"Shit, I'm hard," he whispered.

"We've got time..."

"Yeah, twenty minutes is more than enough time for a quick fuck," he said. "But I want to savour you, Juniper Rowe. I'm going to need all fucking night for that."

"Tell me I can handle this," I whispered.

"You can handle this," he reassured me. "You're the strongest person I know."

"I am?" I didn't realise how much I needed his words right then. Everything was collapsing around me, but Sebastian was my life raft, just as I'd been his back in the Point.

"You leapt for me."

"This is crazy," I said, euphoria taking over my senses. "This is completely fucking crazy. I'm so..." I took a deep breath and a grin pulled at my lips. "I'm not sure there's a word for it."

"I'm pretty sure it's called happiness, Juni."

I laughed and ran my fingertips over my lips. Happiness? It seemed like such a simple notion, but here I was, not quite believing that I was feeling it.

Sebastian let me go and picked up his jacket, sliding his arms into the worn leather.

"C'mon." He grabbed my hand and led me from his dressing room.

The venue was buzzing as the support band played onstage. People were rushing back and forth, weaving past us as we made our way toward destinations unknown.

A woman rushed up, her gaze flickering between me and Sebastian. A Beneath T-shirt was stretched across her oversized boobs and her makeup looked at least an inch thick.

"Sebastian" she purred, fluttering her fake eyelashes, "is anyone taking care of you tonight?"

"Not now." He held up his free hand and walked straight past her.

I stared at her as we passed, taken aback by her blatant proposition. The woman pouted and when her gaze met mine, her eyes narrowed in warning.

"Who was that?" I asked, giving her one last glance over my shoulder.

"Fucked if I know."

_A random groupie_. That's who she was. A pang of jealousy stabbed me directly in the heart and I pursed my lips, but Sebastian wasn't paying any attention.

Ahead, I could see the flashing lights and the sounds of the band as they finished their last song. The crowd was screaming and cheering as the musicians walked off stage and the house lights came up.

"You can hang here," Sebastian said, positioning me in a spot where I could see most of the stage, but was out of view of the audience.

A few other people were lingering, and their starry eyes were glued on Sebastian. I wondered who they were. Fans, VIPs, and friends, maybe?

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close, his body strong and hard against mine. Oblivious to the crowd of people milling around us—stagehands, sound technicians, security, management, and even his bandmates—he ran his hands over my back, along my waist, and grabbed my arse cheeks.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard tonight," he murmured into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "I'm going to be in you every way you'll let me."

He ended his declaration with a full kiss on the mouth. Then he was gone, walking towards the stage and being handed a guitar.

I'd barely caught my breath when I realised someone was standing right next to me. Turning, I came face to face with yet another strange woman.

She was tall, blonde, and had a spiteful look aimed right at me. Her black eye makeup and red lipstick made her already pale skin appear washed out, even in the murky side of stage light. I think people called the look 'heroin chic.' It was very rock 'n' roll, which fit the mood.

"You must be Juniper," she said, flashing a smile. "I'm Vix, Beneath's road manager."

"Oh." I blinked, trying to remember if Sebastian had mentioned her, but I wasn't entirely sure.

"If I'd known you were coming, I would've made sure you had a ticket. Festy Hall isn't the best venue to watch from the side." She looked me over, not masking her obvious distaste. "There's a reason they nicknamed it Festy Hall, you know."

"It's okay," I said. "I wasn't sure I was coming until today."

Her eyebrows rose, which led me to believe that Sebastian hadn't exactly told anyone besides Josh that I was coming.

"I saw Jane's Addiction here once," I offered in an attempt to make conversation.

" _You don't say_."

I tensed and gave her a half-smile. _Yeah, I was so not welcome here_.

"What the press said about you was awful," Vix went on, flicking her blonde curls. "They're a pack of fucking twats if you ask me."

I raised my eyebrows, wondering where the line was. The line being the professional one. I was already seeing some of the fake that'd driven Sebastian to disappear.

Vix didn't seem to care and laughed at my reaction. "Honey, when you've been in the music business as long as I have, your filter wears away. You ain't rock 'n' roll if you don't know how to swear. Follow these boys around for long enough and you'll learn. The dirty gets _dirty_." She smiled sweetly and raked he gaze over me. "Enjoy the show, okay? Just make sure you don't get in the crew's way."

As she walked away, I stared after her slightly shocked at how she just blew in a did a complete number on me. She'd been measuring my worth, and by all accounts, had found me wanting, but it wasn't her or her opinion I cared about.

I craned my neck, searching for Sebastian. He was talking to a man I didn't recognise—he seemed to be a sound technician of some sort—and was slinging the strap of the same sexy black electric guitar he'd been handed earlier over his head.

Out of nowhere, I was slapped on the arse and I yelped. Turning with a scowl, I found Josh Carroway striding past me, guitar in hand. He winked and blew me a kiss before standing beside Sebastian. He shouted something in his ear and they looked back at me.

That guy was trouble. I had a feeling all of them were going to be, and suddenly it was glaringly obvious how simple my life in Point Mambie was in comparison. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

Looking at Sebastian, I drank him in and knew I'd be able to give it back just as hard as they'd give it. Beneath hadn't met the likes of Juniper Rowe. Now that I knew what I wanted, it was time to make it reality.

**Get your copy of Whole Lotta Lust here!**
**OTHER SERIES BY AMITY CROSS**

****ALL SERIES ARE COMPLETE!****

* * *

_**Book One** in many of these series are **FREE** or exclusive to certain retailers, so please click through to check!_

**ROCK STAR AFFLICTION** follows the story of rock star Jake West and fiery 'wildcat' Blair Hayden. Come with them on a whirlwind European tour and find out if they fall in love or crash and burn.

**Unexpected #1**

**Unexplainable #2**

**Unintended #3**

**Undeniable #4**

**Unbearable #5**

**Unstoppable #6**

**ROYAL BLOOD:** Xavier 'X' Blood is a hitman for motorcycle club, Royal Blood. When he meets Mercy Reid, things begin to unravel in the worst way possible. Will Mercy's love be enough to save him?

**Royal Blood #1**

**Bad Blood #2**

**Blood Rites #3**

**Devil's Blood #4**

**Love Like Blood #5**

**Blood and Bone #6**

**ROCK STAR HEARTS** follows the tumultuous romance of small town woman Juniper Rowe and bad boy rock star Sebastian Hale.

Will love conquer all? Or will the price of fame be too hot to handle?

**Whole Lotta Love #1**

**Whole Lotta Lust #2**

**Whole Lotta Sin #3**

**Whole Lotta Heart #4**

**FORTITUDE MC** is a fast paced MC romance that will have you on the edge of your seat.

It contains all the gritty love, action, thrills and hot sexy times you expect from an Amity Cross novel... _and then some_.

**Ride Hard #1**

**Ride Long #2**

**Ride Forever #3**

**THE BEAT AND THE PULSE** is an Australian MMA Fighter romance series that's full of grit, glory and love!

Follow the men and women of Beat and Pulse as they fight for love... in and out of the cage.

**It's time to fight for the broken hearted.**

**Beat #1**

**Pulse #2**

**Crash #3**

**Spike #4**

**Rebel #4.5**

**Steel #5**

**Flow #6**

**Surge #7**

**Quake #8**

**Rush #9**

**Strike #10**

**Ignite #11**

**STAND ALONE ROMANCE:** Quirky writer Lux doesn't expect a comic convention to turn her life upside down. But that's exactly what happens when she gets stuck in an elevator with the hottest ticket in town, actor Jude Atwood... A fun, steamy read!

**L is for Luminous**

**THE DEVIL'S TATTOO ROCK STARS!**

When **Zoe Granger** started playing guitar to get over her heartbreak, she never thought that her band would hit it big. Now she's on the road with indie legend **Will Strickland** —who can't keep his eyes off her. Can she trust a rock star with her heart?

**The Devil's Tattoo #1**

**The Fire Walker #2**

**THE THORNFIELD AFFAIR** is a modern reimagining of Charlotte Brontë's classic Jane Eyre.

Orphaned as an infant, **Jane Doe** has nothing, but desires everything life has to offer.

When she's offered work at Thornfield, a grand English manor turned hotel, she meets her match in the dark and brooding proprietor, **Edward Rochester**.

**Euphoria #1**

**Paradox #2**

**Zenith #3**

