by Rhonda James
I quickly changed into a pair of black yoga shorts and a pink tank top; exposed pale flesh stared back at me, begging to be sunburnt. It had been a long Michigan winter, and the West Coast climate was exactly what I needed to brighten my day. I slipped my small purse over my shoulder and headed out onto the busy street, making my way back to the heart of the downtown district. After browsing through a few small boutiques, I grabbed a coffee and flagged down a cab, asking him to take me to the beach. I wanted to go for a leisurely walk and enjoy the rest of my afternoon, before grabbing a plane back to Michigan tomorrow. The beach wasn’t far away, and I made my way to the pier and sat down on a bench to finish the last half of my coffee, completely lost in thought.
“Mind if I join you?” came a deep voice, sounding a little out of breath and dangerously close. I turned and gasped, immediately drawn to the sapphire blue eyes staring back at me. Butterflies instantly began fluttering around in my empty stomach. My gaze flitted over his face, and I couldn’t help but linger over the pair of perfectly shaped lips that turned up into a slight grin when I didn’t stop staring. Two small silver studs winked at me from the lower right side of his mouth. They were called viper bites. I only knew this because one of the young guys that worked kitchen prep at my restaurant had the same piercing. On him, it looked slightly weird. On this guy, it was unbelievably hot. He looked vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on where I had seen him. Perhaps he was one of the many famous people that adorned this city, or maybe he just resembled one of them. Either way, he was breathtaking, and for a brief moment, I completely forgot what had led me to sit on this bench in the first place.
CHAPTER TWO
“I don’t own the bench,” I shrugged, sliding over to leave plenty of distance between us, instantly regretting the separation.
“I just need to catch my breath.” He huffed a bit before resting his elbows on his knees, breathing slowly and deliberately.
“If jogging is this difficult why do you even bother?” I asked flippantly, then covered my mouth when I realized how nasty I’d sounded. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude, it’s been a busy two days.”
“That’s quite alright. I often ask myself the same question when I get dressed to come out here. But, after a while I get lost in the rhythm and remember how good it makes me feel,” his smile brightened as he spoke. “It’s just that my life got complicated, and I haven’t been out here for a little while.”
“Oh, sorry,” I offered, unsure of what to say next. He looked like he wanted to spend time chatting, but I just wanted some time to myself to reflect on how the interview had gone. Donnie had asked me to call him the minute I was finished, but I couldn’t very well do that with a dark-haired stranger sitting next to me, listening to my personal business. No, I needed to excuse myself before I got sucked in.
“You look distressed, everything okay there honey?” I grimaced at the term of endearment.
“What did you just call me?” He looked as if he didn’t understand my question. “Why did you call me honey? You don’t even know me.”
“Because of your hair, it reminds me of the honey jar that sits on my mom’s kitchen counter,” he shrugged. “I didn’t mean to offend you, you just appear to have a lot on your mind. I don’t mind listening if you want to share.”
“I don’t normally open up to people that I don’t know.” I replied, skeptically.
“Sometimes talking to a stranger can be better than someone you know, kind of like a judgment-free zone.”
“Maybe.” I shifted my feet nervously on the sandy surface beneath me. “I just feel a little unsettled, like I should be doing something exciting with my life. I came out to L.A. for a job interview. I’m a twenty-four-year-old chef, I graduated at the top of my class, and I have a successful job that I love back home. I think I aced my interview, but now I’m terrified that the owner won’t offer me the job. Other than my best friend back home, there isn’t a whole lot to keep me there. So far, I love this city, even though I’ve been here less than a day and haven’t seen much of it. On top of everything else, I’m surrounded by thousands of people, and I’ve never been so lonely in my life.”
He sat there staring, as if uncertain of what to say. I knew I had just laid a lot on him, but he offered to listen. The longer the silence drew on, the more exposed I felt. Finally, he spoke up, choosing to ignore my comment about feeling lonely.
“If you aced the interview, why wouldn’t the guy call you back?” His dark brow furrowed in confusion.
“I didn’t meet with him today, he’s off in London, I met with his general managers. Honestly, I don’t know how it all works. When I graduated from culinary school, I was whisked right into a successful restaurant, and I haven’t had to do any of this before, my work has always spoken for me.”
“I’m sure you were awesome,” he smiled warmly; a small dimple formed to the left of his mouth. I couldn’t help but stare.
“How can you say that? You don’t even know me,” I said, rolling my eyes, yet unable to hide my smile.
“Well then, let’s change that shall we? I’m Sebastian.” He held out a large hand for me to shake; I accepted it tentatively. The electric charge I felt when our skin connected was enough to make me hold my breath. The butterflies bounced wickedly off the sides of my empty stomach. His hand engulfed mine; they were strong, and I felt the hint of small calluses at the tip of each finger as our hands reluctantly pulled apart.
“Brooke,” I offered shyly. Sebastian? Slowly, my mind began assembling the pieces together, eyes widening slightly as I finally realized just whom it was that I had been chatting with. Sebastian Miles, lead singer and songwriter of the rock band Paradox, my favorite band in the entire universe. No freaking way! I smiled carefully, trying my best not to give away the fact that I had recognized him. I didn’t want him to think that I was a crazed fan. Besides, he seemed to like the fact that I didn’t fawn all over him. Maybe he preferred the anonymity, I know I would. I could only assume how difficult it was to be someone in his shoes, aside from the money and fame there had to be a huge downside to losing your freedom.
“It’s lovely to meet you Brooke; now we’re no longer strangers. As I was saying, I am sure you did a great job.” I stared at him incredulously before shaking my head.
“I see what you did there,” I nudged him gently with my elbow. “But thank you, it means a lot to hear it, even if you don’t know a thing about me.”
“Let’s change that as well, where are you from?”
I pondered his question, uncertain if it was wise to share my personal information with him, celebrity or not. He raised his brow, as if asking the question once more.
“Michigan. I flew in yesterday and head back tomorrow.”
“Whirlwind trip. Be careful, the jet lag can be harsh. Michigan huh? Never been. What’s it like there?”
“Cold right now, but beautiful. The lakes are amazing, and I love camping up north.” I replied, smiling fondly at the memories of my last trip to Lake Michigan.
“You have a beautiful smile Brooke.” I felt the blush spreading rapidly across my face, and immediately my hands flew up to cover my cheeks. “Aw, don’t hide, you’re even prettier when you blush.” He leaned forward, lifting a lock of hair from my face. As he tucked it behind my ear, his fingers brushed lightly over the sensitive skin below my earlobe. I shivered uncontrollably at his touch, and immediately blushed again.
“So beautiful,” he whispered.
“Well, it was very nice meeting you Sebastian.” I held out my hand for a parting shake, and he cocked his head slightly before realization spread across his face, I wanted him to leave. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy his company; I honestly did. It was more of what I felt by him being this close to me. I felt a sense of longing, a feeling that I hadn’t recalled in years. Suddenly, having him that close to me left me feeling raw and exposed, as if he could read my thoughts just by the reddening of my painfully pale cheeks. D
amn my inability to hide my true feelings.
He grasped my hand gently, his reach appearing tentative this time, before pulling it up to his lips and placing a delicate kiss on the back.
“It was delightful to meet you too, Brooke. I hope that everything works out for you. Who knows, maybe you’ll get the job, and I’ll see you around again,” he gave me a wink, and I watched as he jogged down the pier, away from me. The afternoon was already starting to look up.
I turned and made my way back to the edge of the parking lot, where I had entered. I pulled out my phone to call Jade; she would die when she heard who had just spent the past twenty minutes with me. After five rings she didn’t answer so I hung up, neglecting to leave a message, and slipped it back into the small pocket inside my shorts. I made my way down the wooden path that led me to the parking lot, completely unaware of my surroundings, totally caught up in my thoughts, which is why I didn’t see them.
“Hey baby, where are you headed in such a hurry?” Fear crept up my spine and made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I looked at both of them and knew there was no way I could get away. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words never made it past my lips, everything around me went black.
CHAPTER THREE
Sebastian~
When I woke this morning I had been in a grumpy mood, same as the previous two days. I haven’t been able to write music in months, something that has never happened to me. Now here I am, Sebastian Miles, front man for the rock band Paradox, I have always been able to pen a song, it’s what has made us famous. Our lyrics have helped sell albums and buy us fans. I guess our good looks haven’t hurt either. I’m aware that I am a good looking man, so are the other guys in the band, but the only thing my looks have made me were money and lonely. I have women falling at my feet, and I am ashamed of the stories reported about how I used to get around. I’ll admit that I’m not proud of a lot of the decisions that I have made since becoming famous.
I had a girlfriend once, but one bad decision and she was taken away. Out of my life forever. That kind of blow can be devastating to a young man who spent most of his days thinking he had the world in his grasp. I’ve since learned that being with a woman physically doesn’t do anything to help the emotional hurt buried deep inside. The idea of finding someone to spend the rest of my life with always nags at the back of my brain. My parents have been happily married for more than thirty years, and watching them interact with one another even today makes the emptiness in my heart ache that much more. My brother, Travis, has been married to his beautiful wife, Natalie, for ten years, having dated since they were fifteen, and eloping at the tender age of nineteen. Their daughter, Olivia, just turned three and is the light of my life. Even my little sister has found happiness, having just announced her engagement to Ben, the man of her dreams. I am surrounded by love; only none of it is my own. I know my family loves me immensely. We’re a tight-knit group that enjoys one another’s company, and we spend every Sunday night gathered at our parent’s house for dinner and a jam session. Life is full, I am busy, money is great, but I am lonely. I know all too well what I am missing, and that sucks.
The past year had been rough on me. During my time in rehab I vowed to put the past behind me and start over. Gone were the drugs and the booze, and I most certainly didn’t need the distraction of a woman. All of the women in my life since Charlotte had been after me for only one reason, to advance their careers. I honestly wouldn’t mind having a woman in my life, but the idea of meeting the right one seemed like a fairy tale at this point. Mom had always told me that when the right one came along I would know it. I didn’t understand what she meant by that, but I didn’t doubt her. Mom had always been my biggest supporter, even through the rough times, and when it came to love, she and dad had something I could only dream about.
Running always seemed to clear my head, even in high school when I was dealing with all of the teenage drama that envelopes you when you are young and impressionable, I enjoyed running. The beach was quiet this morning, surprising considering that it was a sunny eighty-two degrees without a cloud in the sky. Perfect weather for a walk or a run, which was the norm for this health conscious town.
I had just made it past my first checkpoint when I saw her sitting on the bench, sipping coffee and staring sadly out over the vast expanse of water before her. Without giving it a second thought, I slowed down, joining her on the bench. My lungs screamed at me in protest as I had pushed myself too hard. I startled her when I spoke; she was so deep in thought. When she turned to me, the lonely ache in my heart dissipated. She looked like an angel. Her hair was the color of honey, loose curls draped down past the middle of her back. She had eyes the color of the ocean. Her lips were the prettiest color of pink, and a slightly upturned nose sat perfectly in the center of her heart shaped face. My heart warmed instantly, everything around me seemed to fade into oblivion, the only thing that mattered sat right before me. For the first time in nearly two years, I felt something stir within me, I fell hard, and I didn’t know a thing about her, but I felt myself wishing I could change that.
We made polite small talk; I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. I’m Sebastian Miles, rock star and wooer of women everywhere; I never get nervous. But with her, I was a nervous wreck, it took all the strength I had just to ask her name. It was obvious that she didn’t recognize me, and for once I was glad. We chatted about her interview, and I did my best to encourage her, hoping that I helped boost her confidence. I silently prayed that she would get the job, and I might have the chance to run into her again. I felt a strong desire to remain there on that bench for the rest of the day, but I knew she had some place to be, and I didn’t want to come off too desperate. The problem was that she was leaving, going back home to Michigan, that was a long ways away. I had never been there, but I had the sudden urge to pack up everything I owned and follow her all the way back to that little mitten. But instead, I said my goodbyes and made my way down the pier, finishing my run. In hindsight, I should have stayed with her; my focus had been shot to hell, and there was no way I could think about anything other than her beautiful blue eyes. One look at her, and all smoothness went straight out the window, I became a lovesick teenager again.
I hit my final landmark and turned around, hoping that she might still be sitting on the bench, but knowing in my heart that she would be long gone. The song on my music app switched, and I passed the space where we had been sitting not fifteen minutes earlier. I smiled, remembering her sweet demeanor, and the way her name had rolled off her tongue. I reached the wooden path and stopped dead in my tracks. There, lying along the edge of the path, was a young woman dressed in black shorts with a pink tank, the ache in my heart was back, honey-blonde hair tinged with blood spilled out onto the path. As I got closer, the muscles around my heart clenched tighter, making it harder to breathe, it was her. Someone had hurt my Brooke.
Suddenly, everything around me went silent as I dropped to one knee. I cupped the back of her head gently and bent to listen for a heartbeat. She was alive, thankfully, and still fully clothed. I murmured a silent prayer of thanks, and as I inched closer I could hear the faint sounds of a garbled cry. She was trying to speak.
“It’s okay Brooke; I’m here with you. You are safe now.” I moved closer to inspect the wound on her head; it appeared to be from a hard blow. Her eyelids fluttered open, and I shifted my body so that she could see my face and hopefully recognize me as someone she could trust, even though she barely knew me. Her eyes grew large when they locked onto mine, and I knew she was about to panic.
“Honey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you; I’m here to help. I just found you on the path here; you’ve got a nasty bump on your head. I need for you to trust me okay. I’m going to pick you up and take you to get some help.” She nodded slightly before squeezing her eyes shut again. I slipped my arms beneath her and stood, lifting her limp body.
The walk to the car felt as if I were going in slow
motion. My head spun frantically as I decided my best course of action. Getting to the hospital in this traffic would take too long. I grabbed my phone and punched in the number of the band’s personal physician and close friend. Steve had been a surgeon at a prominent hospital in Colorado when we had a chance meeting at a charity event. I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse, and now he works at the hospital here in L.A. part-time, and remains on-call for the band, touring with us every twelve to fifteen months. He answered on the fourth ring.
“Yeah buddy, what’s up?” he asked, voice sounding a touch out of breath.
“Yeah, you okay there Steve? Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Oh sure, no I’m okay, just wrestling around on the floor with the kids. Everything okay?”
“I’ve got a bit of a problem; I need you to meet me at my house and bring your medical bag. I think stitches may be in order.” I said, squinting at the wound on her head, where the blood had finally begun to coagulate and slowed down to a slow trickle. I looked around the backseat and grabbed a T-shirt I had tossed back there yesterday, placing it carefully over the wound to try and stop the bleeding.
“What have you done to yourself now, Sebastian?” he asked, as I continued driving.
“It’s not me; it’s a young woman I met at the beach. We talked a bit, and she went her way, and I went mine,” I switched on the turn signal, jumping on the freeway toward home. “Are you on your way? I’m only about ten minutes out.” I blew out a long breath, trying to calm my nerves. “I finished my run and found her lying on the path, she was attacked and has a bad gash on the back of her head, it’s bleeding pretty badly. Getting her to the hospital would take too long, I figured it was faster for you to come to me. Is that okay?”
“Yes, of course. I’m already on the road and will be there just about the same time you’re pulling in. Is she conscious?”
“In and out, but she is breathing. She is pretty pale.” I looked over at her, instantly wishing I had chosen the hospital. I sped up, hoping no one pulled out in front of me as I made my way along the winding neighborhood streets.
