Page 1 of Rocker

Chapter One

Juliet

Ifthere'sanyoneoutthere thinking of falling in love with a man who gets on stage shirtless and plays the guitar in front of screaming crowds for a living, I would highly recommend reconsidering.

Just kidding, nobody looks at a man like Phillip Lowell and thinks he's husband material.

Even I, who have been in love with the manfor the better part of four years, didn't have much choice in the matter. All that stuff about love at first sight? Yeah, it's totally true. One day, you're walking around with full ownership of your own heart, thenboom. You look up across a crowded room or get onto a train car or into an elevator at exactly the right time, and just like that, you're finished.

If you're lucky, the other person will feel it too, and you'll be on your way to a real-life happily ever after.

If you're not lucky? Well, nobody knows better than me. It sucks.

Itreally, reallysucks.

My not-so-happily ever after started on a Tuesday morning in the sleek, expensive-looking lobby of Harrow Management Inc while waiting for Kendra from HR to take me back for my job interview. I’d applied to work in the mail room, lured in by the promise of health insurance and regular hours, both of which my job as a pizza delivery driver definitely didn’t offer.

I’d been sitting there, trying to think of transferrable skills I’d gained from my high-powered pizza delivery career, when the front door of the sleek, modern lobby opened, and therehewas.

It was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of my lungs. Lip Lowell didn’t just enter a room, he commanded it, and even in his worn-out jeans and threadbare t-shirt, the eyes of every single person in the lobby were on him instantly. He's captivating like that,magnetic, and I wish I would say I've grown immune by now, but the truth is, I'm not sure anyone gets used to that.

Then there's the fact that he's unfairly gorgeous, like way too attractive. Tall and broad-chested with tattoos scattered over his arms and neck, perfectly touseled salt and pepper hair, and a beard that is almost always just a little overgrown. Phillip doesn't care about what he looks like or what he wears, but somehow that only adds to his appeal. While the rest of us mere mortals are scrambling around trying to look good, Phillip simplyis.

It's totally unfair.

The receptionist practically tripped over herself, getting to her feet, cheeks flushed and hands smoothing the creases on her skirt as one of the biggest rockstars in the world walked right past me. I might as well have been a fake plant on the windowsill for all the notice Lip took of me, sitting there with my thighs pressed together, eyes bugging out, and my heart hammering frantically against my ribcage.

“Good morning, Mr. Lowell.”She beamed, gesturing to the doors to her right.“Mr. Bailey is expecting you. Can I get you anything to drink?”

He’d rapped twice on the desk between them and smiled appreciatively at her, eyes looking her up and down in a way that said all too clearly he liked what he saw.“No thanks, sugar. I’m good.”

She’d melted, gazing after him with the same hearts in her eyes I'm sure I had, while Lip vanished through a door beside her desk. He didn't look at me once, the whole moment was over in under a minute, but that’s all it took.

Just like that, I was hooked.

Everything about him made me feel hot, achy, and desperate. I’d never had that kind of reaction to anyone before, and I was so hot and bothered by the sight of the literal God in ripped jeans that Kendra from HR had to call my name three times for me to remember why I was there. Not a promising start.

Things started to go downhill when I craned my neck, looking into every office we passed, hoping for a sighting of Phillip. I'm pretty sure Kendra decided I was a dud when she offered me a cup of water, and I just stared at her blankly, trying to decide if she was being polite or if I looked like I was going to keel over. The final nail in the coffin was when she asked where I would like to be in five years, and I blurted out,"A nudist, hopefully."Unsurprisingly, the meeting ended pretty quickly after that.

I’d lingered in the lobby, pretending to look for something in my purse, hoping to catch one last glance at Lip, but he never appeared. So I left, feeling defeated and more than a little silly, but my heart skipped a beat when I walked into the parking lot.

There was Phillip, looking down at the flat back tire on his vintage land rover, looking stumped. Even though I was still desperately star-struck, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. The man can play the guitar in front of stadiums without breaking a sweat but doesn't know how to use a tire iron? To my dying day, I’ll never know how I got the nerve to say it, but I did. I called out to him,“Need some help?”

Phillip looked over at me and coughed in embarrassment.“Is it that obvious?”

It was, and I told him so, which led to some laughing and some talking while I changed out his tire for the spare. He was so much more down-to-earth andnormalthan I was expecting. He laughed at himself for never changing a tire, kneeling beside me on the hot asphalt in $900 boots.

I liked him—a lot.

Then before I knew it, one of the most famous men in the world was making an offer that would change my life forever.“Screw that lady. Being a nudist would be awesome. I need a PA. I'll be in good hands if you can manage my life half as effectively as you managed that tire. What do you say?”

I said yes. Obviously.

I wasn’t even close to qualified for the job. I had no experience, no idea what I was doing, but it didn’t take me long to figure it out. Phillip never had to tell me anything twice, and by the end of my first few months, I’d gotten so good at being his assistant that I knew I could get a job anywhere.

I wouldn’t, though. I wasn't going anywhere.

Somewhere between that first sighting in the lobby and putting the tire iron back in his trunk, I’d fallen head-over-heels in love with my totally unavailable boss.

---