Page 2 of Rockstar Next Door Neighbor

Emily lets out a low whistle, circling the car. “It’s a miracle you made it here. Are you sure it runs okay?”

“Better than you’d think,” I say, grinning as I pop the back trunk. Emily peers inside the trunk and then the dusty windows as she takes in the stacked boxes, bags of clothes, and a small collection of kitchen gadgets I couldn’t bear to leave behind.

“Wow,” she says, shaking her head. “You weren’t kidding when you said everything you own is in here. Where are you staying tonight?”

I hesitate. “I booked a hotel not far from here. Just for tonight.” Followed by a shrug. “I’ll figure out the rest as I go.”

Emily straightens up, crossing her arms with a determined look. “Absolutely not. You’re staying with us. We’ve got plenty of room, and you’ll save a little money while you get settled.”

“Oh, Emily, I couldn’t—“

“You can, and you will,” she says firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I insist. Plus, it’ll give us more time to hang out. I’ll even help you find a place.”

Her offer warms me, and I find myself nodding before I’ve fully processed it. “Okay, but only if you’re sure. I don’t want toimpose.”

“You’re not imposing,” she says, grinning. “And trust me, Sam will love having you around. He’s still raving about your baked goods.”

We laugh, and I can’t help but feel a little lighter as I follow Emily out of the parking lot, ready to begin my new life.

When we pull up to a charming beach house directly on the ocean, my eyes widen.

I knew Sam and Emily were doing well—the Wild Band is one of the most successful rock bands in the country—but this place is something else. The house is a beautiful two-story with a wrap-around front porch overflowing with flowers in full bloom.

“Home sweet home,” Emily says as she exits her car. “Come on, I’ll show you around, and then we can start bringing in your things.”

I follow her inside, trying not to gawk at the gorgeous interior. The house is stylish but comfortable, with warm woods and cool blues that mirror the ocean outside. The living area has large windows that offer amazing views of the Atlantic. One wall is filled with family photos—Emily and Sam, pictures with the band, and countless shots of baby Presley. Andeverywhere you look, you see plants in pots or hanging from the ceiling.

“This is incredible,” I breathe, following Emily through the open-concept first floor.

“Thanks,” she says, settling Presley’s carrier on the kitchen island. “But wait until you see where you’ll be staying. The guest room has one of the best views in the house.”

Before we can head upstairs, the front door opens, and Sam walks in. He’s exactly as I remember him—tall, broad-shouldered, with that easy smile that made him the heartthrob of our high school.

“Lila!” he exclaims, giving me a friendly hug. “Emily said you were coming, but I didn’t know it was today. Welcome to Jacksonville!”

“Thanks, Sam. Your wife just rescued me from a sketchy hotel stay.”

He laughs, moving to kiss Emily and scoop up Presley. “That sounds like her, always ready with a plan and a helping hand (or two!).”

Emily swats his arm playfully. “Speaking of which, I have an idea about where Lila could live permanently.”

Samraises an eyebrow. “Let me guess—the duplex?”

“The duplex,” Emily confirms, turning to me with excitement. “The band owns this amazing property right on the beach. It’s split into two units, and the one on the left just opened up. It would be perfect for you!”

My heart skips a beat. “On the beach? Emily, I can’t afford—“

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” she interrupts. “The rent would be reasonable, and you’d have your own private entrance. Plus...” She exchanges a knowing look with Sam. “We already have another tenant living in the other half.”

“Who?” I ask, vaguely suspicious of the look they’re exchanging. This feels like a setup.

“Someone connected with the band,” Sam explains, bouncing Presley on his hip. “He’s a great guy. Quiet neighbor. Terrible cook.”

Emily’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “Which means he could probably use a private chef.”

I feel my cheeks warm. “Are you trying to set me up with a client or a date?”

“Can’t it be both?” Emily winks, making Sam chuckle.

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