"I promise."

"Okay. Right." He rubbed his hands on his pants as if wiping away sweaty palms. I wondered for a moment if he was going to continue. Then he spoke.

"I get panic attacks."

Chapter Six.

He said the words in one breath, as if blurting them out before he could take them back. I tried to hide my shock. I didn't want him to think it was a big deal, or he might regret telling me.

Jayce was so extroverted and passionate on stage, always reveling in the attention of the crowd, but I had seen a different side to him these last few days. He was more restrained, almost subdued. What had made someone like that seek the spotlight?

"As long as I'm on stage, it's fine. I'm playing a part. I can get into character. Photoshoots, interviews, whatever, I can handle it. It's just that one moment, that line between stage and curtain. It's almost like I don't know how to act. I don't know who I am."

I'd never seen Jayce so out of sorts. I needed to reassure him.

"You're Jayce Evans," I said firmly, placing my hand on his arm. "It doesn't matter whether you're playing the cocky rock star or just a regular guy messing around with a guitar."

He looked down at my hand, but didn't shrug me off. I realized I'd touched him without his permission and pulled back.

"You may act a little different in person than when you're on stage, but it's not like you're two completely different people."

"Sometimes that's how I feel." He dropped his head and blew out a deep breath. "I go from being on stage, where everyone thinks I'm this invincible idol, to backstage, where all the staff and crew are waiting for me. I never know exactly who they're expecting to see. I get lightheaded, cold sweats, the works. The only thing that calms me down is being alone."

"I'm sorry I intruded." I started to get up, but he put a hand on my thigh, squeezing it firmly.

"No, it's okay."

The heat of his hand on my skin ignited a fire between my thighs. I pressed my legs together and shifted where I sat. I had to cool it down. This was neither the time nor the place.

"A lot of famous people have social anxiety and panic disorders, you know," I told him, trying to calm the storm raging within me.

"I feel like such a fake. Like I'm pretending to be this person I'm not."

I could sympathize. I was always second-guessing myself when it came to my online presence. Did I sound cool enough? Genuine enough? Or did it sound like I was trying too hard? I worked hard to put on a persona of this cool, badass industry insider, but I was just some girl tapping away on her keyboard in her sweatpants. Would my followers still like me if they got to know the real me? I wanted Jayce to know that I understood.

"Everyone has a public face they show the world that's different from their private face. Being a celebrity just heightens your situation."

Jayce blew out a slow breath. "I'm sorry if I've been sort of lukewarm about your whole social media thing. I can handle the film crew. They've got a script, a schedule. I can prepare myself to be on camera." He looked me up and down. "It's harder with you. I didn't expect to have you following me around all summer."

"I'm sorry." I glanced down at my feet. "If it's any consolation, I didn't expect to be following around a rock band this summer, either."

"What were you planning on doing?"

I was surprised he had asked, but if he wanted to know more about me, I would gladly tell him my life story.

"I was going to take some summer college courses. I want to graduate early."

"What are you taking?"

"Business, with a minor in marketing. Ideally, I'd like to do this kind of stuff for a living."

"You'd be great at it. You've got a unique voice. It's different from the other stuff out there."

"Other stuff? You pay attention to the online music scene?"

"Yeah. Before we got picked up by Dark Sound, Feral Silence was just another garage band. I started watching out for what people were saying online, hoping to hear something about us. I started following a lot of music reviewers, especially the amateur ones. They didn't care about stepping on toes. They said what they thought because they weren't worried about being blackballed from the industry. It was refreshing."

"I do try to be as honest as possible." I hesitated before deciding to ask the question I'd been wondering. "Do you like the stuff I've been posting?"

"Yeah, sort of."

It wasn't the enthusiastic response I'd hoped for.

"I'm sorry if I've posted anything you don't like. If you want me to take something down, just let me know."

"No, it's all fine. It's just..." Jayce trailed off and gave me a considering look. "There're a lot of music reviewers out there, but there's one I've been following for a while. I kind of expected you to post the same kind of stuff she does."

"What's her name? Maybe I know her. The music scene is pretty incestuous sometimes."

"The guys know I've got this hard-on for some girl on the internet," he continued, ignoring my question. "They teased me about a musician being a groupie himself. I stopped talking to them about it, but I kept on reading her stuff, even after we hit it big. She's insightful. I wanted to message her, but I was worried. Her reviews are always so carefully unbiased. Sometimes I can't tell whether she even likes my music or not. She's so smart and funny, though. I always thought it would be amazing if I could meet her in person. Get to know her."

My heart clenched in a fit of pique. He had such glowing words for this girl. I didn't want to hear Jayce talk about another girl like that, even if she was just someone he followed online.

Jealousy filled my chest, but I stomped it down viciously. I had no right to feel that way. Jayce and I were just work colleagues. He was free to have a crush on whomever he liked.

"I think it's because I stopped talking about her that the guys haven't figured it out yet."

"Figured out what?"

Jayce looked amused.

"Aimee Lee. Ailey. AudioAiley."

I choked. "What?"

His eyes caught mine, trapping me in that fiery gaze. "I've been following you for years."

My mouth gaped open, trying to process what he had said. Jayce followed me online? He had wanted to meet me? He didn't think I liked his music? I didn't know which part to react to first. The music reviewer in me took over.

"How could you possibly think I don't like your music? You're amazing, you're a genius, you're-"

"I'm just another musician," he interrupted.

"You're not just another musician. You're Jayce Evans of Feral Silence. You're not like other artists. You're special."

He shifted on the concrete steps, looking uncomfortable.

"That's what all my fans think. I'm grateful to them, I really am, but I'm never going to have a normal life. I'll always have to play the rock star god. Sometimes I wish I was just a regular guy."

"Why? Why would you want to give all this up?"

Jayce turned to me and reached out, cupping my cheek to draw my face close to his. "Because then I could do this."

Then he kissed me.

Chapter Seven.

I barely had time to register the stroking of his fingertips against my skin before Jayce pressed his lips to mine.

I inhaled a sharp breath and held it, frozen in shock. He seemed to pause, as if waiting for me to protest or pull back. I didn't. I just waited, anticipating his next move, not wanting to ruin this moment, not wanting to wake up from this dream.

Jayce's lips were soft but firm, pressing against mine incessantly, not hesitant at all. He smelled like leather and earth, a musky masculine scent that drove a spike of heat through my body.

He licked the inside of my upper lip, seeking entrance to my mouth. I gave it to him, his tongue slipping in and exploring the wet heat. I moaned at the touch of his tongue to mine and clutched at him, fingers scrambling for purchase on his bare front. My hands slid down his chest, feeling the shifting of every firm muscle. His skin burned under my fingers, reflecting the heat growing inside me at his scorching kiss.

Jayce tangled his hand in the hair at the back of my neck and tilted my head to get a better angle. I succumbed to it, going limp and letting him take me however he wanted. He bit my bottom lip, teeth nipping lightly, the sharp sting breaking me out of my haze. My breathing stuttered, and I almost pulled back. What were we doing? What was he doing to me?

He laid one hand on my thigh, caressing and squeezing before moving it upward, and all intent to flee rushed out of me. I couldn't pull away from him, from his touch, not even if the building burned down and fell into rubble around us.

He explored the shape of my hip and the curve of my waist before continuing onward to my chest. He curled one large hand around my ribcage and stroked the side of my breast with his thumb. My breath hitched as he found a nipple through my shirt and thin cotton bra. He circled it slowly until the nub was raised into a sharp peak, visible through my blouse. I let loose a sharp gasp into his mouth. He let go of my hair to repeat the process on the other side, rubbing and stroking until I was breathless with need.

Jayce finally released my mouth, but continued kissing my cheeks, behind my ear, the curve of my jaw, and, finally, my throat. The barest hint of his stubble scratched my skin and I relished the sensation, savoring the roughness.

He pressed his lips against my racing pulse. His lips seemed to curve up into a smile, and I knew he could feel my rapid heartbeat. He flicked his tongue out to taste, and I couldn't stop the moan that escaped.

He silenced the noise with another blistering kiss, tugging me closer with one arm. My breasts pressed against his chest and our legs tangled together. He gripped me tight around the waist, shifting me up and over until my knees were on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He continued kissing me the whole time, crushing my lips with the intensity of it.

I sighed out another small sound of pleasure as the palm of his hand drifted from the small of my back to the swell of my ass. He cupped me, lifting me to press my body close up against the zipper of his pants. My skirt rucked up around my waist and I could feel the hardness of him through my thin cotton panties. I throbbed with need, wanting to feel him against my bare skin, soft and iron-hard at the same time. I shifted my hips and bucked against him, pushing up harder against his front. He gripped my hips on either side, pressing me down onto him. I rocked my hips back and forth, wanting more, wanting to rub myself all over him like a cat in heat.

Jayce let out a growl into my mouth before tearing himself away. He placed his hands on my shoulders and held me at arm's length.

"I'm sorry," he rasped out, breathing hard.

"I'm not complaining." I continued to grind my hips against his.

He stifled a groan and leaned forward, resting his forehead against my neck. I pulled back, worried, trying to see the expression on his face, but he ducked his head away from me.

"What's wrong?" I wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders. Instead of continuing the embrace, Jayce lifted me up and off his lap. I made a small sound of disappointment, not wanting to let him go, not wanting the moment to end yet. He settled me beside him on the cold, hard concrete steps, tugging my skirt back into place for me.

"I shouldn't have done that." He put his head in both hands, mimicking the same position I'd first found him in.

I stared at the back of his head. My heart was still racing. My lips were still stinging. There was a fire burning within me that I couldn't extinguish-not without Jayce to help me. I wanted to pull him back down to meet my lips again.

Cold seeped through my skirt, chilling my thighs and helping to cool me down. I started to shiver, bereft of Jayce's touch, of his body heat. I slowly came down from that fog of desire. Now that I was free from the feel of his hands and the taste of his mouth, I could think clearly again.

Jayce was right. We shouldn't have done that.

"If the fans found out, they would freak," he muttered, addressing the floor, head cradled in his hands. "They're so possessive. Every time there's a rumor that we're dating someone, the girl gets terrorized."

I thought back to the year before and slumped down, letting my limbs fall limply onto the concrete stairs, arms at my sides, legs splayed out in front of me. "I remember when rumors started about Kell kissing one of the make-up girls. Fans went crazy. They figured out where she lived and sent her hate mail and bomb threats for months. We can't have a repeat of that. Not now, when your tour is just getting started, when you're ramping up for your album release."

"I don't want you to be a target of their hate. It wouldn't be fair to you." Jayce exhaled slowly, collecting himself. "This can't happen again. I promise I'll be strictly professional from now on."

I wanted to tell him I didn't want it to be strictly professional between us, but I knew better. As much as I hated it, I knew he was right.

"I like you, Ailey. The more I get to know you in person, the more I like you. But more importantly, I respect you. I respect your work. I don't want you to think I'm just some rock star looking to hook up with a groupie."

A thrill of delight worked its way through my body and I suppressed a smile. Jayce liked me. Hadn't he said he liked me online before he'd even met me?

"That's why this will never happen again."

Despite myself, my chest clenched with hurt. Now that I'd gotten a taste of Jayce, I didn't want to give him up. I wanted to peel back the layers, wanted to discover who he really was when he wasn't on stage. I wanted to bask in his touch and see what pleasure he could bring me.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"No need to apologize. I understand." I flashed him a smile, hoping I was able to mask the sadness washing over me.

Jayce was right. This couldn't be good for either of us.

No matter how right it felt.

Chapter Eight.

I threw myself into my work as a distraction from what happened with Jayce.