Prologue
?
Nois a four letter word.
Clara
“Come home with me.”
My heart cannot take this. I will crumble like vegan cake without an appropriate egg replacer. Melt like frosting in the sun. Cave like a souffle. I willcave, and I will go home withLukas Bachelor.
And who knows what he’ll ask of me next.
Heart pounding in my throat, I cast a glance toward the party beyond the balcony doors and search for my manager. An adult. Someone who can step in and say that precious two-letter word I struggle with so completely.
Unfortunately for my blood pressure, no one so much as notices we’re out here.
Probably because Lukas dropped the curtains behind us, and I am looking through little more than a half-inch slit between the two sheets of thick black fabric.
Lukas Bachelor—known affectionately tomillionsby his stage nameKing—exercises his regality by planting a hand on the balcony railing behind me, tipping my chin up in his warm palm, and forcing my attention back to his dual-colored eyes.
Until this exact moment, I’d thought his heterochromia was part of the brand, CGI, contacts… Until this exact moment, King was an untouchable icon—a fictional dream.
Tall as he is, imposing as he is, and clothing-impaired as his flared, chest-baring trench coat is, he looks like some kindof fantasy creature. Chiseled straight from the mind of an artist with a very specific type.
The railing behind me bites into my lower back as I battle for something like distance between us, or just distance between me and terrible decisions. “Isn’t…your home in West Virginia?” I ask, softly, like I’m totallynota stalker who is standing opposite her very specific type, and obsession, and favorite singer in the world…
Loads of people probably know that Lukas lives in a palace in Sunset, West Virginia on land that he and his three brothers own.
Loads of people also probably realize that thiscome home with meproposition right now really meanscome out back to my tour bus, baby; let’s make some music together.
But, given that a simple,No, thank you. You are the man of my wildest dreams, but I like to think I have brain cells and restraint,is impossible for me to get out of my mouth, I am diving head-first into oblivious and stupid, hoping that Lukas Bachelor is the sort of man who won’t take advantage of that.
Whaaat?Gohomewith you? But we’re in North Carolina! Not the state of your abode! And I’m so busy at this catering gig for the final stop on your world tour! You expect me to leave work and go on a road trip? I don’t understand what you mean!
As far as he needs to know, I’m nothing more than a silly little blonde girl.
The worst part isI’m not even supposed to be here. I’m not a caterer. I’m not a baker, either, even though that’s the position I want more than anything. I work at an elite bakery downtown, frosting little designs onto cookies and cakes and pastries that cost a million dollars each.
I’m only here because my boss said her catering team was short staffed and wouldn’t I justlovethe chance to meettheLukas Bachelor?
No.
Actually.
I would havelovedto not have this experience, shocking as that may seem.
King’s musicismy lifeblood. I listen to it constantly, drown myself in his beautiful voice whenever I can. But the man’s personality…scares me to death.
Ipso facto…behold. Me. Right now.Scared to death.
Lukas’s finger on my chin sends trembling sensations soaring down into my chest. He scans me, watching me shiver. “Yes, my homeisin West Virginia. That’s what I mean. Come home with me. To West Virginia.”
My lashes flutter, and I might just squeak, “Pardon?”
Lukas doubles down, drawing closer, caging further. “I have a big house and an empty room right next to mine. You can stay there.” His fingers tease my hair, tucking pale strands behind my ear. “I’ll spoil you rotten. What do you say?”
No. No.No. Please, dear deities,no. I say NO.
