I looked around behind me again, still searching for Hannah. We hadn’t agreed to meet for another hour, but now that she knew her precious Parker Sloan was here, I was expecting her to rock in any minute.

Sell out.

It was when I glanced around that I saw the very man himself, followed closely by Jasper Jones – the guy the media called his ‘wing man’, and they were heading right for the very bar I was sitting at.

Mingling with the common folk, huh…

Hannah is going to lose her shit.

I rolled my eyes and carried on looking for her, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

I gave up and decided to get myself a little less-sober while I waited.

“Vodka tonic please,” I asked the bartender, resigning myself to the fact that I’d have to sit here like a loner until my roommate arrived.

He sat the drink down in front of me and I passed him a ten as I took a long sip through the straw.

‘The Mack’ by Nevada blasted through the speakers and my body swayed involuntarily to the beat.

“Thirsty?” A deep, husky voice to my left took me by surprise. Goosebumps I couldn’t explain prickled my skin.

I turned towards the voice, hoping it wasn't some creep I was going to have to fend off.

Ah crap…

The rock star himself…

The minute his eyes met mine, it was like a warning siren went off in my head. ‘Dangerous’ it screamed, ‘evacuate the building while you’ve still got your panties on’.

He pointed to my drink and I followed the gesture with my eyes to look down at it.

Half empty already.

I laughed lightly as my eyes settled back on him. "Yeah… I guess I was."

He smiled and I found myself unable to think of anything else to say. His ice-blue eyes were looking right into mine.

It was totally unnerving.

Most people averted their gaze every now and then; it was common ‘don’t make people uncomfortable’ practice.

Mr. Sloan apparently hadn’t got that memo.

I glanced back to the entrance, looking for Hannah again, suddenly eager to get the hell away from here and the hell away from him – bad-boy rockers were not something I had the patience for right now – that was Hannah’s fantasy, not mine.

Dammit… she’s still not here…

I sighed as I glanced down at my watch again.

Ten thirty-five.

I saw Parker whisper something to Jasper out of the corner of my eye.

“Are you waiting for someone, sweetheart?” he asked in his gravelly voice, focusing his attention on me again.

I turned my body in his direction, stalling, still trying to figure out why he was wasting his time talking to me. I nodded curtly. “My name is not sweetheart, and yeah, I am.”

If I didn't know better I would have sworn he frowned slightly.

What’s the problem, rock star, not used to a woman who can think for herself?

I took a moment to really look at him – the man from the magazines. He was tall, taller than I’d thought – much taller than me, but that wasn’t hard. His dark hair was long on the top and shaved close at the back and sides. The longer strands were flopped forward, half in his eyes. The exposed skin on his arms, shoulders and neck was golden brown and covered in tattoos, and he wore fitted black jeans, a white singlet and beat up old chucks.

I guess rock stars have their own dress code.

He wasn’t at all my type, and I shouldn’t have been attracted to him, but there was just something there in his blue eyes that made my stomach flip a little.

I hated myself for it.

“I’m meeting my friend Hannah.” I told him, the words out of my mouth before I could figure out what had possessed me to specify that little detail.

He visibly relaxed and smirked a cocky grin like he’d had some type of victory. “Is she as pretty as you?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Not gonna work on this girl, rock star.

Something inside my brain told me to give him one last chance to have a real conversation.

I reached my right hand out towards him. “I'm Charlotte.”

He reached out and took my hand in his, an amused expression on his face as he shook it gently.

His hand felt strange in mine – it was almost familiar.

Jesus… how much vodka was in that drink?

“Are you not going to introduce yourself?” I asked when he didn’t speak.

“Oh please,” he scoffed, his arrogance coming off him in waves. “Like you don't already know who I am?”

I raised an eyebrow at him and pulled my hand back.

Cocky bastard.

I would have loved to be able to say no, but I wasn’t into lying, and I wasn’t going to start purely for his benefit.

“Oh, I know who you are,” I confirmed. “Parker Sloan – big-time rock star.” I rolled my eyes.

He waved his hand in a gesture that said ‘exactly’.

“Knowing your name doesn’t mean I know you,” I stated quickly, narrowing my eyes at him. “I thought that maybe you might have had the manners to introduce yourself properly, but I can see I was wrong.”

Jasper punched Parker in the arm as he let out a loud chortle. “I like her," he choked out through his laughter.

I smiled and winked at Jasper.

I held out my hand to him instead, ignoring the perplexed expression of the other man. “I’m Charlotte.”

He took my hand and shook it gently. “Jasper.” He nodded. His hazel eyes were warm and soft and I decided right there and then that Jasper Jones was okay in my book.

Jasper was nearly the same height as Parker, but with longer blond hair on the top that he had tied up in one of those man buns, and a thick beard growing from his face. His tattoo collection also rivalled Parker’s, covering every patch of skin I could see outside of his t-shirt and jeans.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jasper.” I screwed my nose up at Parker as I took my hand back.

I picked up my drink and swivelled around on my stool to scan the crowd again.

Relief flooded me as I spotted Hannah by the door. My feeling of relief was quickly replaced by shock.

Christ. What the fuck is she wearing?

I downed the rest of my drink as I slid off my stool. I sat the empty glass on the bar and stepped in her direction at the same moment that Parker’s hand landed gently on my upper arm.

My skin tingled from the contact, and I hoped to god that he didn’t notice.

“That's it?” he asked in disbelief. “You don't want to try for a night with a celebrity? You don't even want me to sign anything?” he asked with a well-practised cocky grin.

I tugged my arm from his grasp. “Seriously?” I asked, in disbelief of my own.

He just stared at me, wide eyed, apparently waiting for an answer.

Oh god… he’s delusional.

“No.” I shook my head, spelling it out to him. “Parker Sloan – big-time rock star, I don't want to sleep with you.” I patted down my little black dress dramatically. “And I seem to have forgotten my pen; so, you'll have to spot me a boob sign next time we meet.”

Jasper erupted into laughter again, still watching our little encounter from behind a bewildered-looking Parker.

I laughed and shook my head as I walked away.

Men.

I weaved through the sea of people until I reached Hannah.

Oh my god. It’s worse than I thought.

She had the fuck-me heels and the fuck-me dress on.

Don’t even get me started on that makeup.

“Han, what the fuck are you wearing?” I demanded as I reached her, looking her up and down.

She had on the scantiest dress I’d ever seen. If she were to bend over in that thing the whole club would see what she’d had for breakfast.

Hannah was a beautiful girl; her blonde hair was cut into a long bob and her skin was a pretty, golden tone – not that you could see it from under the foundation she had caked on her face. She had a slim, athletic figure that didn’t need to be dressed in skin-tight outfits to look good.

"Lotte, he's here. This is it. My shot… I had to wear the hooker dress.”

"Friggin’ hooker dress alright," I mumbled. “And tonight, just might be your lucky night,” I added. “He’s at the bar, and he’s looking to score.”

Her eyes darted to the bar like a wild cat laying eyes on its prey. “How do you know he’s on the pull?” she demanded.

“Because…” I groaned. “He just tried it on with me,” I replied with an eye roll.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes bulged. “What?”

“Don’t even get me started, Han, I’m not equipped to deal with his particular brand of crazy right now,” I ground out.

Truth was, Parker had rattled me... he’d gotten under my skin. It was only a little, but that was more than any man had been able to achieve in the past two years.

I sent up a silent plea that the rock star wouldn’t give me anymore grief.