Chapter 1: First Glances and Fiery Sparks
The summer of 1990 was a scorcher, and not just because of the relentless sun beating down on the tour bus. Tara Lewis, the new stylist for New Kids on the Block, stepped aboard with a confidence that could stop a crowd mid-scream. At 22, she was a vision—dark skin glowing under the fluorescent lights, curves that demanded attention, and a sharp tongue that could cut through any ego. Her first day on the job, and she was already turning heads, especially Jonathan Knight’s.
Jonathan, the shy one of the group, lingered near the back of the bus, his hazel eyes catching hers as she hauled in a rack of glittering stage outfits. He was quieter than the rest, a mystery wrapped in a leather jacket, but Tara could feel the heat of his gaze. She smirked, setting down her kit with a deliberate sway of her hips.
'Yo, shy boy,' she called out, her voice a sultry tease, 'you gonna help me with this or just stare like I’m the encore?'
Jonathan’s cheeks flushed, but he stepped forward, a hesitant grin tugging at his lips. 'Didn’t mean to stare. Just… didn’t expect someone like you to walk in and own the place.'
Tara laughed, a sound like honey over gravel. 'Sweetheart, I don’t just walk in. I take over. Now grab the other end of this rack before I make you my personal assistant.'
Their banter flowed like a rhythm they’d rehearsed for years, sharp and electric. As they worked side by side, organizing sequined jackets and tight jeans for the next show, Tara caught the way Jonathan’s fingers lingered near hers, the subtle brush of skin sending a jolt through her. She wasn’t here to play games, but damn if he wasn’t making it hard to focus.
'You’re not like the other stylists,' he said, his voice low as they stood close in the cramped bus aisle. 'They’re all… timid. You’re a damn hurricane.'
Tara tilted her head, her full lips curling into a wicked smile. 'Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet. I can blow through your world and leave you begging for more.'
His breath hitched, and she saw the spark of something hungry in his eyes. The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken want. They were alone now, the rest of the band off at soundcheck, the hum of the bus engine the only sound besides their quickening breaths. Tara stepped closer, her hand brushing against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart.
'Careful, Jonathan,' she purred, her voice dripping with challenge. 'Keep looking at me like that, and I might just have to show you how I handle a man who’s too shy to make the first move.'
He swallowed hard, his hand finding her waist, tentative but firm. 'I’m not as shy as you think,' he murmured, his lips inches from hers. 'Just waiting for the right moment to—'
Her laugh cut him off, bold and unapologetic, as she pressed herself against him, feeling the heat of his body through his thin shirt. 'Moment’s now, shy boy. Question is, can you keep up?'
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