Between a Rock

Chapter One

                                                             Chapter One

                 I was too shocked to even react at first, only vaguely aware of the cameras flashing and capturing this all on film. All I could feel were Rocky’s lips pressed against mine; no tongue, no wandering hands or attempts to get in my shirt. It was just a kiss.

                A kiss I definitely did not see coming.

                Rocky took another step forward, steering me back into the Starbucks. He ignored the shocked gasp from Angelina and the low whistle from Lucy until the doors closed behind us.

                And then he broke away. I opened my eyes again—when had I even closed them?—and stared at Rocky.

                “What,” I said slowly, “was that?”

                He looked past me at Lucy, spotting the “manager” plate on her name tag. “Does this place have a back door?” he asked, completely ignoring me.

                Lucy didn’t even miss a beat, nodding towards the staff entrance of the Starbucks.

                Rocky flashed her his signature winning smile and tugged on my arm. “You get that?”

                It took me a second to realize that he wasn’t talking to me as I watched his hand go to his ear. It clicked. He was wearing an earpiece—but who was he talking to? And why was he going all double-oh-seven on me?

                I pulled him to a stop as he opened the back door. “What are you doing?” I demanded.

                Rocky turned to me and acknowledged my existence with a sly smirk. “Kidnapping you.”

                A dark SUV pulled into the alley behind the Starbucks, screeching to a stop right in front of me. Any other time I would’ve kicked my attacker’s butt and high-tailed it out of there, but this was Rocky. He wasn’t a rogue gang member bent on killing me… I didn’t think.

                Rocky pulled the back door open and bowed cheekily, and I cemented my opinion. He definitely wasn’t a backstabbing assassin. I thought about stubbornly refusing to get into the car and causing the rock star severe bodily harm, but then I remembered the mob of paparazzi waiting me at the front of the coffee place.

                I glared at him as I slipped into the backseat. “I may have to kill you after this.”

                Rocky shrugged, climbing in next to me. “I can live with that.”

                “Buckle up,” came a no-nonsense call from the driver’s seat. I peered into the rear view mirror and immediately recognized the tell-tale auburn hair of FBI Special Agent Kate Howard—the arresting officer who’d handled my case when my sister and I had kidnapped Rocky. After the whole thing was over—no charges pressed thanks to the rock star in question—she’d given us a ride home and we were more or less on respective terms with each other now.

                I waited until we pulled out into the road before unleashing my rage. “Someone explain. Now.”

                Rocky turned to me and actually had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry. I had to set up the cover.”