He's so annoyingly sure of himself.
Ugh.
He's so annoyingly appealing.
Double ugh.
"Don't be so cocky. I wasn't looking for you. I was trying to find—"
"Stop lying." He shakes his head at me, his tone all full of purr. "I saw you, looking this way and that. Those bright green eyes searching for me and me alone."
Of all the nerve. "You are so unbelievably vain. God. I get that most of the world revolves around you, but I was trying to find Zach." There. That could easily be the truth.
Amusement lightens his features. "You're still lying. But it's okay. I'm a liar, too."
"What?" I can't keep up with him.
"I said I wasn't hitting on you yesterday." He leans forward. The bar separates us, but it suddenly feels like a much narrower barrier. He lowers his voice in a false whisper. "But I was."
"What?" I repeat. My stomach tightens in a little thrill. I want to stab it. I settle for crossing my arms over my chest, hoping the extra pressure there will slow down the stupid trip-trap of my racing heart.
"I didn't think I was hitting on you at the time, but I reflected on it last night and it turns out I was."
I forget to breathe for a moment. I can't ask "what" again. I just can't. But nothing else is coming to mind, so I don't say anything at all. I straighten the napkins and toothpicks in their containers between us. I work super, super hard to control my breathing. I glance around the bar, jealously eyeing Zoey slammed with her orders. On the other side of me, Nicole is busy, too. Why aren't they stuck with Luca?
But…that means I wouldn't be and ugh. I'd hate that, too. I really wish I could get a freaking grip.
Finally, all I come up with is: "You reflected on it?"
I've got to stop repeating things. There's an original thought left in my brain, I'm sure of it. I just need to find it.
"See, I finished the set last night and I found myself thinking about you." He sits back into the stool, watching for my reaction. "I can't stop thinking about you, actually. And while you were looking for me—don't deny it again, it'll just sound sad at this point—I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. Still can't."
He sits here, loving every second it takes for me to respond through the way my mind's suddenly frozen. "I…"
"Cassidy?"
Oh, thank God. Vera. Somehow standing next to me. That's right. I need to introduce her. I almost hug her for interrupting us. I almost shove her away for the exact same reason.
"Uh…" Come on, brain. "Luca, this is my roommate, Vera. She's a huge fan."
"Hi, it's sonicetomeetyou!" Vera beams so brightly she almost outshines the leftover sun setting in the distance behind us.
"Vera," he says, keeping his eyes on mine a second longer than necessary before turning his attention to her. "It's nice to meet you, too. You work here with Cassidy, I take it?" He points toward the short black apron she's wearing.
"Yes!" She says the word with a tone full of worship, like he's Einstein for figuring it out, and giggles. "Not at the bar though. In the kitchen. Well not really there, either. I wait tables. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything to eat? On the house? I mean, of course it's on the house, duh. I can bring you a menu if you want. Or if there's anything you're craving off the menu I can see if—"
"Vera." I nudge her with my leg, mentally willing her to calm down. Now this is what melting into a complete fangirl really looks like. "Is there a special tonight?"
"Um." Her expression slackens. "I…can't remember. Shit."
"You know, I think a burger sounds great, actually. If you guys make those?" He smiles kindly at her, his tone gentle.
"We do!" Another giggle. "I'll be back with it super fast, promise."
She flounces away and I shake my head at Luca. "Does everyone always fall to pieces around you?"
"You don't."
Barely.
I shouldn't be so pleased, deep down, with the way he's teasing me… But this? This no-strings-attached flirting? It's so easy. He's a rock star, which means there's absolutely zero percent chance it'll ever take a serious turn. Which is just…appealing.
"How many girls do you do this to?" I ask. "This whole can't stop thinking about you bit?"
His lips pull into a smile. "You're the only one who comes to mind."
I roll my eyes. "Please."
"Cassie. This, I'm not lying about." He leans forward again. "How often do you think I have to actually work to impress a pretty girl? How often do you think anyone bothers to give chase?"
"You are so arrogant," I say, but I have to bite back a grin. Seriously. I need to calm the helium-filled giddiness rising through me.
But I can't.
He's watching me, his eyes dancing. "You still haven't said you're not interested."
"I'm not."
"That doesn't count. You're only saying it to be contrary."
"I'm seeing someone."
This throws him—his lips tighten with disappointment, and I feel my own little sizzle of disappointment in return. He doesn't drop his gaze, though. "Do you want me to back off?" And, when I hesitate too long to answer, "Just say the word."
Just say the word, Cassidy. Why isn't my mouth opening? I look around, needing to see Gage's face. If he looks at me, I'll find my resolve.
But he's not here yet.
Zoey, though, I catch eyes with. She's watching us, her mouth flat. Great. I bet she'll tell Gage we were flirting. I need to get my shit together. I need to tell Luca to back off. I need to stop flirting.
"He's not my boyfriend or anything." The words fall from my traitorous mouth—and I don't even want to take them back. Oh my God. I'm into this. I can't deny it. What am I doing?
But then Luca reaches out and strokes my cheek with his thumb and I have to fight the wildest urge to turn my face into his hand and lick his palm. Instead, I step back, but it only makes him smile wider. Like he appreciates the challenge.
"I don't like your music." I say the statement so often these days, I should get it tattooed across my forehead.
"I got that impression."
"Then why…?" I trail off, but he knows what I'm asking.
"Maybe because." He shrugs, all nonchalant. "Or maybe because you're beautiful. More likely because you're a smart-ass. Maybe because a girl like you would be a much needed change of pace."
"I'm sure a one-night stand with a random girl wouldn't be much of a change."
"You don't know me well enough to say that. And maybe I'm not talking about a one-nighter."
"Oh, sorry. A two-nighter, then," I say. "Forgot you'd be here tomorrow, too. And you don't know me well enough to say I'd be a change of pace, either." I am, irritatingly enough, a little tempted to find out.
"There's something pretty important that you're not considering."
Gage. I'm not considering Gage. "What?"
But Vera returns with his burger, interrupting us again. And again I'm torn between wanting to hug her and wanting to shove her away. The pull toward the latter is stronger this time. I think she feels it, too, because her eyes are darting between the two of us, like she can feel the tension thickening the air around us. "I'll, um, leave you to it."
"Thanks, Vera." Luca shoots her a smile so dazzling she takes half a step back from its impact before turning to go.
"Vera," I say, stopping her.
She turns, brows raised. "Yeah?"
"You should stay. Hang out."
"It's okay. I have stuff to do." She gestures to the crowd filling the rest of the patio. My section of the bar is the only bubble of space not slammed, because everyone's giving Luca room to be a lone wolf or whatever. (Still so, so lame.)
"Well…come back when you can, okay?" is all I come up with.
She smiles at me, but there's no real warmth in it. I want to pretend I don't understand why, but I can't. I'm failing as a friend and regret blossoms in my gut as she walks away.
"Luca, it would mean pretty much the entire
world to her if you'd talk with her a little bit." Vera might kill me for saying that, but she'll never know.
"She seems sweet," he says, glancing at her back. "Why don't you bring her backstage after the show—you are staying tonight, right?"
"I…don't think so," I say. "But I can tell her to meet you after. Or it'd be even better if you tell her yourself."
He shakes his head. "No dice. You come or nobody does."
"You're blackmailing me to hang out with you after the show?"
"Is it really blackmail if you're secretly dying to do it?" He takes a bite of his burger.
"It is if it's not something I want to do."
He finishes chewing. Swallows. "One of these days you're gonna get sick of denying the truth."
"One of these days you'll stop being so delusional."
"Doesn't your friend want to meet Norris?" he asks.
Oh. Norris. Forgot about him, somehow. I look around the patio, across the crowded tables and down the other end of the bar. Polly's there, deep in conversation with the keyboardist, a guy with bright white mohawked short hair, whose name I can't remember. But I don't see Norris anywhere. I nod, returning my attention to Luca. "She does."
"Then you have to come after the show." He takes another bite. He's got a sexy mouth, I'll give him that. There's something about the way he takes a bite, the way he chews. Even the way he swallows. I could watch him eat all day long.
"Want a bite?" He misreads the way I'm looking at the burger.
"No." I unhinge my lower lip from my teeth. I should tell him I'm not coming after the show. "So what exactly is this important thing I'm not considering?"
Shit.
He grins. "Still thinking about that?"
"Only because I'm waiting to tell you you're wrong."
"Then consider this," he says. "You're still here. You haven't once asked me to stop. You want to talk to me."
"It's my job."
"Cassie, Cassie, Cassie." He lingers on the nickname, like he's tasting it on his tongue. I bite my own in response, refusing to acknowledge what it does to weaken my knees. "Stop lying."
For the first time since I've met him, I'm actually relieved when Jared approaches us.
"Cassidy, there's a girl at the side door, saying you told her to come?" He doesn't look pleased.
"Teagan. She's here to meet Norris." Oh, thank God. A distraction. I need a buffer between me and Luca. Otherwise…otherwise I'm going to give in.
"You can't just bring your friends up to meet our artists," Jared snaps. "It's unprofessional." He turns toward Luca. "Sorry, man."
"I told her to invite her friend," Luca says, his face a blank canvas. "If you're mad, be mad at me—but I wouldn't recommend it if you ever want us back to this venue."
Jared blinks and I have to cover my mouth with a hand to keep from laughing. It's so refreshing to see him brought down a peg.
"You got it," he says to Luca. "My mistake." But the look he shoots me is far from apologetic.
"That guy's a dick," Luca says after he leaves.
"Always," I agree.
"Anyway. Bring both of your friends after the show. I'll see you then." He lifts off his stool and walks away.
"Do you want to meet her first?" I call after him.
He turns back, shaking his head. "Lone wolf, remember?"
I fight a smile and roll my eyes instead. So stupid. "But you talk to me."
"You're special." He winks and then turns back the way he was going.
It's my turn to blink as a glow of pleasure sweeps over me.
I'm the only one he wants to talk to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
"Hey." Teagan doesn't smile, but she's not exactly frowning, either. Her expression is a million times nicer than the look Jared gave me after depositing her on my side of the bar, so I'll take it.
"Hey." I hand her a hard cider. We take each other's measure, trying to figure out if we're going to talk about things or if we'll blow straight past them. I don't want to let her off the hook. "It's been a while."
"That it has." She nods, coolly at first, and then her face relaxes the tiniest bit. "Thanks for inviting me."
Okay. A thank you. That's something I can work with. But I'm not sure it's enough.
The sun is sweltering down on us, and her hair is damp along her hairline. I bet the air is out in her car again. The thought softens me, though I don't let her see it because it'd only harden her. "Want something to eat?"
"Free?" She glances at me from under her long lashes and tucks a coil of strawberry curls behind her ear.
"Everything VIP is free."
"Fries, then. I promise not to throw any at you this time." She pauses, her expression turning sly. "Well, I can't really make that promise… But I promise to try not to."
"There is no try when it comes to fries." I cock a brow at her. "Don't forget. I'm behind the bar now. With a squirt gun full of soda."
I flash the nozzle at her and she throws her arms up, laughing. "Truce, truce!"
One of Gold Rush Standard's roadies, all beard and belly, interrupts us for a beer. I serve him and place the fry order before turning back to Teagan. "Truce for real?"
"For real," she answers. "And I'm sorry."
"Sorry for real?" I ask, again. "Because last time you said it things didn't go very well…"
"For real." She squeezes her lips together, considering her next words. "I have some things I need to work through."
I blink in surprise. This is the most she's given me in years. Don't show concern. Don't show concern. "Anything you want to talk about?"
"No. I'd appreciate it if we could just leave it at that for now." Her tone is clipped, controlled, and I can tell it costs her. Don't show concern. She takes a deep breath, pushes it out in a loud exhale. "Quit it with that puppy dog eyes shit."
Damn. "Sorry."
She waves a hand, brushing my apology to the side. "So where is he?"
"You just missed him but he invi—"
"What do you mean I just missed him? Is he coming back? Am I sitting where he sat? Oh my god." She stops, sniffing the air. "Is that Norris's cologne I smell? I didn't imagine he'd wear anything so vanilla-ish. He smells like a cupcake."
"Oh. No, sorry. I meant Luca." My mind is apparently one track today. And when she stares at me, puzzled, I clarify, "Luca James."
"Luca James—like, Gold Rush Standard Luca James?"
I nod, my face flushing.
"Well, well, look at you. First-name basis with one of the world's biggest stars." A mix of emotions play out across her face. She settles on a small, knowing smile. "Making your rounds around this place, I see."
"There's nothing to see." I shake my head, either toward her to bolster my words, or at myself, for lying. Mostly the latter, I think.
"You're so full of it," she says. "But if you don't want to tell me, I'll let it go. For now. Because all I want to talk about is meeting Norris. Where is he?"
"I actually haven't seen him today, but Luca said he'll be hanging out after the concert."
"Does that mean—wait. Are we hanging out with Gold Rush Standard after the concert?" She bounces in her seat, her expression hopeful.
"We're invited…" How do I tell her I don't want to go? Or…if I'm being honest: How do I tell her I'm too chickenshit to go—that Luca pulls at me in a way that's not really appropriate.
"Oh my God!" She shoots out of her stool. "Like backstage and everything?"
"Yeah." I glance at my hands beneath the bar, where my fingers are locked together, twisting around themselves. I didn't realize I was doing it. I hate how badly I want to hang out with Luca after his show. Hate it.
Hate.
It.
When I look up again, Teagan's wearing a puzzled expression. "Why aren't you excited?"
I hesitate, adding more straws and stirrers to their holders in front of me and down the side of the bar. Teagan waits, tapping her fingers on the bar until I'm back to answer her.
>
"I'm not sure I want to go." I'm not sure I should go, is what I mean but can't make myself say.
"Are you crazy?"
"No. But I don't even like this band! Why would I want to hang out after the show?" Then, because I know how stupid I sound—really, who would pass this up, fan or not?—I sigh. "Maybe I am crazy."
She shakes her head. "No. I am not going home empty-handed."
"What exactly will your hands be full of? Norris Marshal?" I pour an order of three beers when another roadie orders them, noting in the back of my mind how easy it is to do without paying attention. Go me. "He's got a girlfriend."
"First of all, if I wanted to take him home, you know I would." She waits until I concede her the point, which I do. The girl gets every guy she wants—well, except for Gage, but it's possible that's only because she left the first night we saw him and missed her chance, thank God—and always ends up with the most outrageous stories about them after. "Second of all, no. I'm not a home wrecker. I can love him without going for him. But I'm not leaving until I meet him."
"Teag. It's complicated."
"Remember staying up until sunrise trying to memorize every song on Lost in Time?"
I smile. We were fifteen, maybe sixteen—not much younger than Luca James himself at the time—and snuggled under blankets on the couches in the basement, listening to Gold Rush Standard's first album, songs on single repeat until we had them mastered. "We were so determined to put on a show for my parents the next morning. I can still recite half of those songs from heart."
"That album was amazing."
"Yeah. Lost in Time was. Every album that came after slid straight downhill." I sigh. I can't not take Teagan backstage just because I'm fighting this…urge or whatever for Luca. Let's be real. "Of course we're going after the show, okay?"
"No shit. I told you." She smiles at me, though.
"Just don't let me—"
I'm interrupted by Jared clearing his throat loudly from the side of the bar. I turn and his face is as scowl-y as it was earlier. "Your little rock god's gone. Enough slacking. You need to get back to work."
Rock & Release Page 15
