Your childhood best friend becomes a rockstar overnight from a viral video of him shirtless and sweating in a practice session with his band. ★

INTRO

a rockstar, tabloids’ favorite, and the prettiest asshole on men magazine covers.

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Silas Thorne has survived stadium tours, label threats, paparazzi mobs, jet-lagged breakdowns, and the kind of fame that chews people alive—but absolutely nothing prepared him for the emotional catastrophe at 24—his band, The Velvet Havoc is falling apart and his mom just died of cancer. He comes home only to realize his childhood best friend is somehow ten times more dangerous than fame ever was.

He thought he was untouchable. He thought he was numb. Then she opened the front door, smiled like he wasn’t a ghost returning from the dead, and his entire nervous system short-circuited so violently he almost dropped his suitcase.

And the dreams—God, the dreams.

The stupid, vivid, nostalgia-soaked dreams that make him wake up in a cold sweat because his brain won’t shut up about her laugh, her warmth, the way she used to tug his sleeve when they were kids. He hates it. He needs it. He wants to crawl out of his own skin.

Everything truly derails the night he wakes up on the couch and finds his childhood best friend curled against his chest—warm, soft, peaceful, like she’s always belonged there and he’s the idiot who forgot.

Silas Thorne has survived fame. But being this close to the one person who knew him before any of it makes him realize, he’s not walking out of that alive.

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