Dare to Rock (Dare to Love 5)

And she hadn’t seen him yet.

Left with no choice, he was going to have to physically extricate himself from the clinging octopus of a woman. He grasped her around the waist, intending to push hard, just as Avery’s gaze landed on him, her eyes flickering from his to the woman he looked like he was holding in his arms.

A flash of emotion flickered across her expressive face. Everything from awareness, shock, disgust, and hurt all showed before she swung around and headed for the door.

“Avery!” He called her name loudly enough to be heard across the room while shoving the groupie, sending her tripping backward.

She wailed and began crying, and her friends surrounded her, but Grey ignored her in favor of Avery. He reached the door just as she paused and turned to him.

“Avery.” His gaze met hers.

She blinked, a mix of pain and confusion in her unique lavender-colored eyes. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Yes, you should have.” She was so close he could see the light sprinkling of freckles on the bridge of her nose, and his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

She tipped her head to one side. “But it is your life. The one you worked hard to achieve and … I’m happy for you.” But the words were at odds with the sad smile lifting her glossed lips. “It’s good to see you, Grey.” She raised a hand his way before she turned and walked out.

Shit. “Avery!” He stepped into the hall.

“Kingston!” Simon barked out. “I’ve got Rolling Stone on the phone, and they want an interview. I need an answer now.”

A glance back told Grey that Avery had gotten lost in the crowd held back by security. His head pounding, he walked back into the lounge, ignoring his manager.

“Was that her?” Lola came up beside him, her voice soothing in light of the chaos swirling around him.

“Was is the right word,” he muttered. “I can’t do this anymore, Lo.”

She laid her head on his shoulder in commiseration. “I hear you. It’s not good for us either. Rep doesn’t like the crap that comes with this lifestyle,” she said of her serious boyfriend, who was the Miami Thunder’s successful wide receiver. “I want to be around during his upcoming season, and he worries about me when we’re on the road and he can’t be there.” She let out a huge sigh. “We do have a tour to finish though.”

“We do,” he agreed. “But afterwards? I’m coming home.” And he was going to get his girl.

Chapter One

Five Months Later

“And always remember to be your best self!” Avery waved at the computer screen and hit the stop button on the recording. Another video in the can, she thought wryly. She’d re-watch later and do her editing before putting this one in the queue with the others.

She taped ahead, and she felt good about the upcoming weeks’ worth of material. In between videos, she interspersed her blog with written stories, photos of clothing and makeup, and the celebrities who wore them well. Those she also wrote ahead of time. And she had plenty of future ideas, she thought, glancing at the yet-to-be-organized piles of free product that had been sent to her for testing.

One of the perks of being a professional blogger—vlogger—with a huge online social media presence, she received packages from companies looking for her to pimp their goods. She also relied on her personal favorite products and looks for which she did online tutorials. It’d begun as a cool hobby she’d somehow turned into a career, and she loved it. She supported herself, supplemented by a trust fund courtesy of her maternal grandparents. She was lucky and she knew it. She never took her life for granted.

The irony of her online persona compared to her real-life one never failed to amuse her. She was far from the extrovert she portrayed herself to be. When she was nine, she’d experienced her first panic attack after the scandal had broken about her father’s second family. The paparazzi had wanted more information about her family, and they hadn’t been above targeting a child to do it. She still had nightmares about the flashing camera lights and the crushing hordes of people coming at her. That incident and the ensuing ones had caused her to withdraw, preferring the comfort of friends and family to large outside crowds and intrusive strangers.

With those closest to her, she was comfortable and outgoing. To Avery, vlogging was still the equivalent of being behind the scenes, and she had no problem portraying that side of herself on camera. She provided her viewers with advice and how-to instructions on wearing the newest fashions and current makeup styles. She was twenty-five and played to her age group and younger, and her perky persona worked, making her a success. As a result, her fans looked at her as their friend, someone to whom they could relate.

Her brother Ian might be president of the Miami Thunder football team, and her father owned a renowned hotel chain, but Avery never flaunted her family name or wealth. She’d had enough of public scrutiny to last her a lifetime, and she never sought attention outside her small channel on the Internet.

A familiar ding alerted her to incoming emails, and she clicked back to her mail program. An email notice from a local gossip blog caught her eye, and she read the subject.

Reports of Tangled Royal breakup confirmed.

Avery bit down on her lower lip, not surprised by the mention of the band but always dismayed by the accompanying painful twist of her stomach.

Grey Kingston, Tangled Royal’s lead male singer and guitarist, had been Avery’s high school boyfriend and first love. And up until five months ago, she hadn’t heard from him in seven years. Then one day, a letter had arrived from Grey, telling her he was leaving her concert tickets and backstage passes. He’d ended with, Love to see you again. G.

After a lot of consideration, because Avery always thought things through, she’d gathered her courage, invited her sister, Olivia, and decided to attend. Memories of that night still haunted her. She wasn’t naïve or stupid. She understood the magnitude of the kind of life a rock star like Grey Kingston led.

Even if she hadn’t known, she’d been force-fed pictures and snippets of information over the years by the same online sites she read to keep her blog current. And she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit to setting a Google Alert to Tangled Royal and buying their albums and listening to them in secret, where her family and friends wouldn’t know or judge her. But the on-screen photos and gossip columns had nothing on what she’d seen with her own eyes.