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.