I held up both drumsticks in the air. And perfect silence ensued.
Boys pretending we were men, that’s what we were.
With too much money. Too much power.
A bra found its way near my feet.
With a smirk I knelt down and picked it up with my drumstick, then flipped it back toward the crowd, my white T-shirt following like it always did, and I made the walk to my set.
The girls’ screams pierced my ears as I sat and held my sticks high while the rest of my guys joined me on stage. We were the first boy band to actually play our own instruments. We did it all. Ty made his way on stage next, in nothing but ripped jeans and a red tank, ink covering his chest the way it swirled up and down my arms. And then there was Will, perfect golden boy Will, the product of movie-star good looks and a heart full of gold. He flashed his smile across the crowd, and Drew followed last. Always last, the brooder.
We each had our role.
God, I hated it.
We played our set.
And I realized then I’d lost something, something valuable. At twenty-one, I resented what had made me feel the most alive for my entire life—music.
I slammed my sticks over my thigh after our final song and made my way backstage, nearly colliding with a stagehand before barreling into a woman.
“Shit.” I gripped her by the shoulders. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where—”
Her light blue eyes blinked up at me wide and expectant. Her short cropped jet black hair only made me stare harder. She was beautiful. And familiar. “Are you—”
“Josephine Shannon, but everyone calls me Josie.” She held out her hand and smiled a confident smile I felt all the way to my toes.
Without a second thought, I grabbed her hand and pulled her against me. “Josephine Shannon, I’m going to marry you.”
And just like that, my life clicked back into place.
CHAPTER ONE
Penelope
Present Day Seaside, Oregon
It was a mistake.
I didn’t say it out loud, just thought it over and over again during my hellishly long drive from Cunningham Falls to Seaside, Oregon, of all places. My cousin Dani said it was a great place to relocate and that it was basically impossible to be depressed around a giant sandbox.
But the minute I stepped foot out of my car, I realized.
You can’t just leave your past and pray it stays there. No, it follows just like baggage can’t help but exist. I had no good reason to leave other than I felt like every single friend I had grown up with or met recently was finally settling down, it seemed like I was the only one still struggling to find my purpose, my adventure. It wasn’t the best reason to move several states away but it was all I had.
I exhaled roughly as I took in my small beachside cottage near C Street right by one of the local coffee shops. They’d hired me without even meeting me, and the owner had been so thankful that I had experience being a barista that she said I could start right away. Apparently, she was taking her youngest to college and wanted to be there to get him settled in.
Which meant I had zero time to unpack my stuff. Luckily, I was two doors down so I parked my car, grabbed my purse, and made my way over to the small red and white building.
The door was open, a trend I was noticing in Seaside. Even though it was chilly with the breeze coming off the beach, the doors were always open as if begging people to come strolling in.
I frowned at the tattered screen and pulled open the door. A bell rang overhead. The shop was maybe eight hundred square feet. They had a brand new espresso machine behind the bar and two new MacBook Pros in the corner for customers. A flat screen was placed near a few tables and Judge Judy was playing in the background.
I tried to shove away the disappointment I felt.
I’d moved to find adventure.
And I guess to escape.
