The Rockstar & Nanny (Wild Stone Rockstars #1)

1. Fire Meets Ice

Fire Meets Ice

Sarah

She steps into the penthouse foyer, instantly engulfed by understated luxury. Smooth concrete walls, black marble floors, and floor-to-ceiling windows that pour in light like champagne. Her cheap heels squeak traitorously against the floor.

She winced. Too loud. Too eager.

And then hes there.

Evan Stone. Rockstar. Bad boy. Tabloid magnet.

He leans against the counter of his open-concept kitchen, a whiskey tumbler in hand, though its barely noon.

The sunlight slashes across his tattoos and muscles like a spotlight was made just for him.

Dark hair. Stubbled jaw. Eyes like a midnight tempest, unpredictable, magnetic, and just dangerous enough to make her lean closer instead of run.

He doesnt smile.

"Youre early," he says, voice all gravel and velvet.

Sarah lifts her chin. "Youre welcome."

A flicker. Amusement? Annoyance? Hard to tell.

He gestures to the leather couch. "Sit."

She does, smoothing her skirt again, trying to ignore how her heart thuds as he prowls across the room and drops into the armchair opposite her like a panther in a throne. Watching. Waiting.

"So," he starts. "Why would someone like you want to work for someone like me?"

She meets his gaze head-on. "Because Piper deserves someone who gives a damn."

He arches an eyebrow. "That so? And what exactly do you know about what she deserves?"

Sarah holds firm. "Enough to know shes lost a lot. And that what she needs isnt a perfect nanny with a flawless resume. She needs someone who listens. Who sees her."

Evan smirks. "You always talk like youre auditioning for a Hallmark special?"

"Only when Im trying not to remind a rockstar that Im not impressed by his brooding act," she fires back.

He snorts, surprised. "Youre mouthy."

"Im honest. Theres a difference."

Before he can respond, a tiny gasp echoes from the hallway.

"Unca Evan?"

And then shes there, Piper. A whirlwind of curls and sparkly shoes, gripping a plush dinosaur and blinking up at Sarah like shes just found a real-life fairy.

"Hi," Sarah says, her voice instinctively softening. "Is that a T-Rex?"

Without hesitation, Piper beams and nods vigorously. She clambers onto the couch beside her, fearless and bright-eyed. She presses the dinosaur into Sarahs lap with a solemn ceremony. "Hes bitey, but nice."

Sarah nods seriously. "Thats the best kind. Does he have a name?"

Piper taps her chin thoughtfully. "Princess Crunchbite. But only when hes in a good mood."

Sarah gasps theatrically. "Ive never met royalty before. Should I bow?"

Giggles explode from Pipers mouth as she nods. Sarah performs a dramatic seated bow, and Piper giggles even harder, sliding her tiny hand into Sarahs.

"Whats your name?" Piper asks.

"Sarah. But you can call me Royal Babysitter Sarah, if youd like."

"Royal Babysitter Sarah," Piper echoes solemnly. "Youre in charge of dragon snacks."

"I accept this noble duty."

Evan watches the interaction, jaw ticking. Something unreadable flickers across his face: wonder, suspicion, maybe both. He doesnt interrupt right away. Instead, he leans a little forward, studying them, as though trying to decipher whether this woman in front of him is real.

"She doesnt usually take to strangers," he mutters.

"Im not a stranger anymore," Sarah says simply, never breaking eye contact with Piper.

Minutes pass in a blur of giggles, dinosaur impressions, and Piper commanding Sarah to speak in a British accent because thats how royals talk. Sarah plays along, delighting in the sparkle in Pipers eyes as she dubs her a royal babysitter.

Until Evan stands, voice sharp.

"Thats enough. Piper, go get your coloring book."

The little girl frowns but hops down obediently, skipping away.

Sarah rises too, spine straight. "Was that my cue to leave?"

He crosses his arms. "Youre not what I expected."

"Good."

He narrows his eyes. "Are you sure about this job? Its not just babysitting. Its cameras. Headlines. Chaos."

Sarah squares her shoulders. "Ive handled worse."

Sarah smooths her skirt, unaware of the way Evans gaze lingers.

Something twists in his chest, a sudden, unwelcome ache. A flash of Piper at three, sobbing through the funeral. His brothers laugh on an old voicemail. Headlines from the car crash he cant scrub from his memory. And now Sarah, seated here like she belongs. Like she fits.

He doesnt need another complication. But something about her, her honesty, her calm, her instant connection with Piper makes him hesitate.

Before he can speak again, his phone buzzes on the counter. He glances at the screen, curses under his breath, and snatches it up.

"What do you mean the storys breaking now? We had until tomorrow" He freezes, eyes darting toward Sarah. "Yeah. Ill handle it. No, dont talk to anyone else yet. I said Ill handle it."

He hangs up, jaw clenched.

"Trouble?" she asks lightly, tilting her head.

"Depends. How fast can you start?"

Sarahs brows lift. "Tomorrow morning. Early."

A flicker of surprise danced in her chest; she hadnt expected him to agree so quickly. But beneath the nerves, something stronger pulsed: satisfaction. She was already in this, heart and heels, and she wasnt backing down.

Evan nods once, sharply. "Fine. Be here at seven."

She turns to leave, her pulse still jittering, but something in her chest feels warm. Settled. Like shes walking toward something real.

Behind her, Evan watches the door long after it closes.

He mutters to himself, "What the hell just happened?"

The elevator ride down feels like a decompression chamber. As soon as the doors close, Sarah exhales like shes been holding her breath for a decade. Her phone buzzes in her bagprobably Mags, her best friend, waiting for an update. But Sarah doesnt answer.

Instead, she leans against the mirrored wall and whispers to her reflection, "You did it. You actually survived him."

Still, unease tugs at her. That call. The tension in Evans jaw. The way he said, we had until tomorrow. Shes walking into a mess. No doubt.

As the elevator descends, she lets herself feel the high and the fear. Because Piper isnt just another job. Evan Stone isnt just another boss. And Sarah? Shes not just here to clock in and cash out.

This matters.

The doors open. She steps out, digging through her purse until her fingers wrap around a silver chain. A locket. Inside, a tiny pictureher sister, smiling. The reason Sarah ever started working with kids. The reason she keeps going.

Outside, the city blares and hums, indifferent to her victory. Sarah steps onto the sidewalk, lifts her face to the sky, and for the first time in weeks, she smiles.

Let the chaos come.

Shes ready.

A horn blares from the street. The wind catches her curls, lifting them like a banner. Somewhere behind her, the city breathes, loud, alive, and unforgiving.

But so is she.