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After my medical discharge from the Army due to a brain injury, I’ve had to reinvent myself. Not easy when I can’t even remember what I ate for breakfast. Or the hot, older guy I went home with. Oops. When I run into him a second time and hit him up as if we’ve never met before, Jarek’s a little insulted. I can’t exactly blame him. But when he learns my memory is shit, he seems flattered I’ve picked him up twice.

Hotel-room-trashing tantrums? Check. Daddy issues galore? Check. Glitz, glamour and general debauchery? I wrote the f**king book. I’m a textbook bad boy rockstar cliche, and I’ve never claimed to be anything else. Hell, I own it. At least, I did, until he came along: Mr. Self-Righteous who acts more like a priest than a drummer. Now he’s my bodyguard and the guy in charge of making sure I don’t OD before the tour ends. Oh, right. I also have a crazy stalker who’s been obsessed with me since I was a kid. So that’s fun.

I don’t want a serious relationship, and certainly not with the single dad next door. But one look at Gordo? I’m smitten. Even though I might be a tough looking tattoo artist, I know that the ink does a lot to hide my own insecurities. It doesn’t matter how much Gordo seems to like me - I can’t bring myself to make a move.

Gideon Holiday is the perfect neighbor. Need a cup of sugar? Spare folding chair? Extra batteries? He's always ready to help. And he's waited years for his hot, grumpy, silver-fox neighbor, Paul, to need him. For anything. But right now, Gideon would be happy if he could just get the Scrooge-like Paul on board with the neighborhood holiday lights fundraiser.