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.”