My new bodyguard is big, brawny, and oh-so straight. Who knew dodging paparazzi would become a full-contact sport between my heart and those strong, protective arms?

Can I survive playing a risky duet with a man who’s supposed to protect my body, not steal my heart?

I have a tiny panic attack after a big charity gig. In the middle of this meltdown, I crash into Jared, the big, broad-shouldered bodyguard. He’s calm, he’s caring, and he’s got this insanely perfect jawline that could carve marble.

Does it awaken feelings I’ve been trying to smash down harder than a whack-a-mole? Let’s just say my interior monologue starts playing a sexy saxophone solo the second our eyes meet.

Cue my bandmate Dylan prancing around with victory confetti, calling me out for my crush. But I’m too busy freaking out because some leaked photo of me at a gay club goes viral faster than a cat meme. It threatens to turn my shiny rockstar image into a tabloid sideshow.

And guess who gets hired to guard my body, in all the ways I wish he would? Jared. Now I’m stuck playing it cool while my new protector—looking like a Greek god who moonlights as a teddy bear—follows me everywhere.

While I’m busy pretending I don’t want to slurp chocolate syrup off him, the world is busy being awful. Fans turning on me, paparazzi swarming like vultures, and anxiety wrapping around my throat like a boa constrictor. Jared steps in, putting himself between me and the chaos, deflecting not just the literal flashbulbs but also the emotional grenades.

Before I know it, I’m leaning into his broad shoulders, feeling safe and warm.

So here I am, at a crossroads. Falling for the one person I’m supposed to keep at arm’s length. Do I keep living a rock ’n’ roll lie or risk it all for the man who just might be my backstage pass to real happiness. Will I finally grab love by the collar of its world-tour jacket and plant a big, sloppy kiss on it in front of everyone?