I shake my head and run a hand over what I'm sure is the beginning of my frizzy hair. Damn humidity. I'm still smiling when I notice Gage sitting toward the end of the bar—and suddenly nothing with Luca seems as funny anymore.
How did I not notice Gage? I'm usually so aware of him. He's watching me with an expression that's not exactly mad, but not exactly happy either. How long has he been there?
Somehow, with Luca, I've been completely wrapped up for who knows how long, without a care in the world about anything going on around me.
I don't mind coming back to reality, though, when it's Gage's beautiful face pulling me in. Even if he isn't the most pleased.
I hold up a beer and he nods.
"Be right back," I tell Luca and make my way down to Gage. I hand him the beer and smile, though behind it there's a level of guilt I don't quite understand. Yes you do. You were laughing it up with Luca James. "Zach put me on babysitting duty."
"I can see that." Gage tone doesn't give anything away.
Anxiety twists through my stomach. "His music sucks."
"You aren't a fan?"
"My parents brought me up with quality stuff. Beatles. Rolling Stones, the Velvet Underground, Jimi Hendrix—I could go on for hours… Not that I don't appreciate artists from the past decade—even pop rock—hell, I'm a proud Demi Jade fan—but Gold Rush Standard? My parents would've laughed me out of the house…"
But now I'm thinking of my parents. They didn't laugh me out of the house, but I'm still not welcome there. And it hurts almost just as much knowing they don't listen to music at all anymore, when it was such a huge part of their lives—of all our lives—before Jason died.
This is a path of thought I can't go down again. Not if I want to function.
I close my eyes and breathe deep, blocking it all out.
I think, instead, about later tonight, the way it'll feel to fall asleep against Gage's chest, the way he'll tickle his fingers along the skin of my arm, the way his soapy scent will fill my nose when I breathe…
And when I open my eyes again, I realize I'm biting my lower lip—and he's watching the way I tug it between my teeth. I grin at him. "See what you do to me?"
His eyes widen slightly and he puts down the beer that had been halfway to his mouth. "There she is."
"Who?"
"You."
Excuse me while I go sit in a corner and melt.
"Well. Now that I'll be spending the rest of my night smiling," I say.
He takes a pull from his beer. I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows and not for the first time, I want to slide my mouth along its trail.
"Do you know," he says, when he's finished swallowing, "how much I look forward to getting you naked after work?"
Oh, God. "Do you know how much I want to yank you across this bar for a preview?"
"Don't tempt me." He tightens his grip on his beer, which brings my gaze to his fingers and my mind to the ways he likes to work them against me. In me.
My mouth goes dry and my knees go tingly. "I gotta get back to work or…I don't know…take a cold shower. You're killing me."
He shakes his head, a sexy growl humming at the back of his throat. "Goes both ways, Cassidy."
With the greatest of reluctance, I turn toward Luca.
Polly's next to him, whispering in his ear.
And damn.
I still find him appealing.
I almost look back at Gage, to reassure myself that he's the only one I want, but I'm afraid of what he'd read in my expression.
Needing a moment to compose myself, I look out across the patio. People are talking, laughing, eating. Jared's messing with some wiring by the stage deck. Nicole's sweeping by the bathrooms. A server I don't know walks by, carrying a tray heaped with fries and nachos and sandwiches. The scent of the food tugs at my stomach and I realize I haven't eaten all day.
Maybe that's my problem. Low blood sugar or something.
No. It's definitely Luca. I'm still not ready to look at him again.
Instead my eyes settle on Zoey, by the food counter.
It's like she can feel my gaze, because she looks over, catching me staring, and it's about a million and a half degrees of awkward. She doesn't glare at me, but she doesn't smile either. Actually, she looks sad—and suddenly I feel sorry for her. On top of everything else.
God. Why can't I avoid tangled feelings wherever I go? No matter how hard I try.
I'm the first to look away.
I can ignore this. Feeling sad for her. Feeling anything about her.
Just like I can ignore the annoying spark in my belly toward Luca. I mean, finding someone appealing doesn't mean I have to jump his bones. Confident with that realization, it's easier to face him.
He's laughing at something Polly's said, and I wonder if there's something going on between them. Which is stupid. It's none of my business and I shouldn't care, anyway. I grab his empty water glass and refill it, adding a slice of lemon. When I hand it back, his fingers brush over mine and the touch sends such a jolt up my arm that I jerk back—and knock over the glass.
Water.
Soaking through the belly of my shirt.
Streaming every direction over the bar.
Heading straight toward Luca James.
I scramble for a rag, knocking over the container of straws in my way, and manage to dam the flow just in time.
"Sorry." I want to duck down, to hide.
Luca snorts, and I can tell he's holding back straight-up laughter. Polly doesn't hold back at all, laughing outright—and kind of snidely.
"No big deal," Luca says, "a little water never hurt anyone."
Though…I'm beginning to think it might make Polly melt if I hit her with it. She lifts an amused eyebrow, knowing too easily what I'm feeling. She trails her fingers across the back of Luca's shoulders, whispers one more thing in his ear—her eyes never leaving mine—and then she walks away.
I drum a finger on the still-slightly-damp bar and watch her go.
She's trying to make me feel insecure.
Successfully.
"Let me try this again," I say, managing half an embarrassed smile and grabbing a fresh glass for Luca.
"Hey." He takes the water when I hand it to him, watching me with those dark, dark eyes. "Polly's like a sister."
"She seems nice." When I served her drinks earlier she did, anyway. Now, not so much.
But…did Luca just clarify his relationship, or lack thereof, with Polly? Is he concerned about what I think?
Ugh. My thoughts are turning into excited little fangirls and I'd be irritated with myself if I wasn't too busy enjoying the tiny, vapid butterflies currently flinging themselves around in my stomach. Stupid Luca James.
Stupid me.
I turn to hide my face and grab a fresh packet of straws, sweeping the spilled ones in the trash.
"Gotta go; Polly told me they're about to let in the masses," he says when I face him again. "See you tomorrow?"
"Yep!" Not cool. Too excited. I clear my throat. "I mean, I'll be here. Bartending. If you want more water, or whatever."
God. If you want more water, or whatever? I'm a freaking disaster today.
"Later, Cassie." Luca slings a final knee-weakening smile at me.
"Cassidy," I correct him. Cassie was a girl I knew in high school, a total bitch. I've never used the nickname.
"Whatever you say, Cassie." He reaches across the bar and tucks a strand of my hair behind an ear, before walking away.
What an ass.
Plus, I liked my hair exactly where it was.
Why the hell am I still smiling?
I glance at Gage who, for the record, is very much not smiling. I slide another beer down to him, following its trail with a rag to wipe the bar. "Oh, come on. You're not jealous of Luca James, are you?"
"It's been a while since I've seen you laugh. It's nice, what it does to your face, what it does to the tension in your shoulders," he says, grabbing his bee
r. "Thanks for this."
"Hey, wait," I say, but when he turns toward me again, I come up blank. Say something. Stop feeling guilty about Luca.
"I'm on." He gestures to the stage behind him.
"You still coming over after?"
"If you still want me." His tone is light, but his words are loaded.
It's easy to answer. "Like you even have to ask."
Finally, he smiles. It's small, but I'll take it.
Then Jared opens the VIP entrance, and we're so slammed I don't have time to think for hours.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Vera stays with Jared to watch the concert, so it's quiet when I get home. And when Gage arrives, it doesn't exactly pick up in volume, either.
I offer him a beer. He accepts.
I ask if he wants to sit down—hoping he'll say no and pull me into the bedroom to make me forget everything but the feel of his skin rubbing against my own. But he sits, and my stomach sinks because his mannerisms, so stiff, make me think he wants to talk. I join him, but I sit down with far more distance from him than I've ever left before. An entire person could fit between us.
He asks how the rest of my shift went. I tell him great. Made good money. Got to hear his beautiful voice in the air while he performed.
He shrugs at the compliment.
The air is heavy with tension, and finally, I can't take it anymore. I inch a little closer. "Please don't tell me you were jealous earlier at the bar."
"I'm not allowed to be jealous. I'm not your boyfriend." His features are carefully relaxed, but he responds so quickly it's obvious he's upset.
His words sting me. "Gage—"
"It shouldn't matter to me that you were flirting with Luca James." He cuts me off. "But it does."
"I was trying to keep him entertained, because it was my job. Zach told me to. That's it. I don't even like—"
"His music. I know. Vera told me."
"You spoke to Vera?"
"She wasn't very happy not to get an introduction."
Oh, man. I'm so damn selfish sometimes. I can't think of a response that doesn't sound like an excuse. "I don't know what came over me today. Really."
There's so much he wants to say, or maybe yell. I can see it in his eyes. The frustration. The anger. It's there, hot and sharp.
But I can see when he reins it in, too, smothering it with a clenched jaw.
"It was nice," he says, "seeing you relax like that. I wish you still did it with me."
Guilt is a monster, rearing its ugly head, rushing through my veins, making me spring up from the couch and snap, "Come on, Gage. What do you mean 'still'? We've known each other like a month and a half."
He stands to join me, anger back in his eyes. "Real nice, Cassidy."
Those were definitely not the words I meant to say. My stomach curves in on itself. Why am I so defensive with him? God. Get a grip.
He's right. I was able to relax around him not too long ago.
But he was supposed to be a light, summer escape. He's somehow on the verge of becoming so much more.
He makes me want to open up—and I just can't. Which means that no, I can't relax around him.
"I'm sorry." It's all I can say.
"What happened last week?" he asks, making my stomach tighten even more. "I thought we were…" He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter what I thought. But all you've done is push me away ever since. What happened? What changed?"
"Nothing." It's a lie. "I don't know." Also a lie.
Last week, he talked me into going out to lunch. And then, because it actually wasn't sweltering for a change, for a walk around a park near the restaurant.
Blue skies. Birds chirping. Hand-in-hand with a stolen kiss here and there.
Laughing.
It was perfect.
Like a freaking cartoon fairytale.
I went home, sticky sweet with nostalgia, and almost called my parents.
My parents. People I have no desire to speak with. I snapped out of it before hitting the call button, but only barely. And then, I actually did call Jason, needing to hear his voice even just on his voicemail.
But someone else answered.
His number's been put back into population.
It crushed me.
I'm still crushed.
I'll never not be crushed.
Even now my eyes heat with tears, and I need a distraction. I need Gage.
So I take his beer and place it on one of Vera's entertainment magazines on the coffee table, freeing his fingers so I can link my own between them and pull him toward me. My next words come out without such an edge. "It's too hard to relax around you because the only thing I can think about when I'm with you is getting these incredibly talented hands all over my body."
"Cassidy." He shakes his head, his tone telling me he knows I'm making an excuse.
"Shhhh." I nibble along his jaw and trace my tongue along his earlobe. "This is what I'm talking about," I whisper, before letting my mouth travel down his neck. "I can't help myself around you."
"Bullshit," he says. But when I lean back against the couch, he comes down with me and we don't talk again for quite some time.
I apologize to Vera the next morning, after Gage and Jared leave, but she tries to shrug the whole thing off.
"It's fine," she says curtly, stretching toward the ceiling before bending toward the floor. "I was busy anyway."
"Obviously you were upset—you said something to Gage," I say from my seat on the couch, a little awed by her flexibility. A little irritated she said anything to Gage, of all people. But I swallow it. "You have every right to be pissed. I should have introduced you. Zach put me on babysitting duty—I didn't even think…"
"You were starstruck," she says, upside down now, both hands and feet firmly planted on the floor. "I knew you wouldn't be immune to him. Whatever. I don't want to piss off Jared, anyway."
I will never, ever understand yoga. I'm in pain just watching her. "Screw Jared. You're right. I was starstruck. I admit it. It messed with my ability to think. But today will be different. Come over to the bar—I'll introduce you right away, I promise."
Except I can't introduce her when we get there because traffic makes us late, and when we walk in Luca's nowhere around. The rest of the band is at the bar, just like yesterday. The patio's even more crowded today, and Jared scowls at Vera—who mutters "shit" and hurries to start waiting on customers.
"Careful," I tell Jared. "Be too big of a dick to her and she really might leave you for Luca."
"You know," he says, his scowl shifting into an expression I can't really read, but that still isn't very nice, "if she lets him sweep her away…that'll leave me free for you."
It's my turn to scowl. "Why do you have to be such a douche?"
"Take a freaking joke, Cassidy." He frowns.
"Learn how to tell one that's funny." I roll my eyes and turn my back on him, rushing over to the bar. He's jealous of Vera's crush and trying to use me as some pawn to make her jealous, too. Blech.
Zoey's here to work the early shift with me instead of Clark. So it's like today's just trying to be filled with awesome.
Thankfully, she works one half of the rectangular bar, and I work the other. We don't overlap. We don't even greet each other.
I can't believe the difference in the girl who once smiled so openly toward me. I understand it, though. She's in love with the boy I'm sleeping with, and I'm sure she thinks it's more than that between us. I'm drenched with guilt because I don't want to give him up, even though she'd give him more than I can. Maybe it's best we don't speak.
It shouldn't bother me as much as it does that Luca's not here. But knowing that doesn't keep my eyes from searching for him every few minutes.
I tell myself it's because I want to introduce him to Vera. I want to make up for not doing it yesterday.
That's the only reason.
Really.
…
Okay, just one more look and then I
won't think about him anymore. I glance over toward the bathrooms. Nothing. On the side of the bar facing the entrance. Nothing. Toward the cocktail tables lining the VIP stage. Nada.
"Hi, Cassie."
I spin around and he's sitting at a stool, watching me like he's been here for hours, even though he definitely wasn't a moment ago. The quirk of his mouth has my stupid heart speeding up a little more than it should. I tell myself it's just because he's famous, and hot, but…well, we'll just leave it at that.
"Don't call me that." Between my damn heart and the way my breathing's suddenly unsteady, I feel like I just ran a mile.
Nicole slips behind the bar, whispering a message from Zach. Luca's my only responsibility while he's here. Great. Just awesome. She doesn't even glance at Luca as she takes over my section, but her chest heaves like she's breathing faster than usual. Guess he has this effect on everyone.
"Where did you come from?" Good. My voice comes out steady.
"Were you looking for me?" he asks.
"No."
"Liar. I watched you." He points back toward a corner—the one where I first saw Nicole making out with Zach. "I waited right there to see if you'd notice."
I almost laugh at the thought. Luca James hiding behind a corner to see if I'd look for him? If I'd had a million guesses for things that might happen today, it wouldn't even have come close to making the list. "That's a little stalkerish."
"Huh. You're right." His brows furrow, like it's the first time he's thought of it that way. Then he shrugs. "I still caught you."
"Whatever. Anyone would notice your absence. You're the world famous Luca James." I need to take a deep breath to steady the rate of my pulse, but I can't because apparently he can read me like a book and I'd give myself away. "Turns out my job the next two days is to make sure your drink orders are filled. I notice when you're not here to tell me what you want."
"Don't ever stop talking to me like this." He flashes his teeth at whatever he sees in my expression, hopefully nothing more than the annoyance I've cemented across my features. "I can't get enough of that attitude, Cassie. And no. You noticed in a different way. I saw that pout across your mouth when you couldn't find me."
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