Just Friends With a Rockstar (Soulmates #1)

Chapter 1

WEDNESDAY

“ K acie,” June’s voice sings into my ear as I pick up the phone. “Girl, this is it. This is the week I finally talk you into coming back to visit me.”

June’s been begging me to come to Chicago ever since I quit my band The Heat and moved home to Pine Creek.

“Hmm. Is that so?” I tease, setting my sticks on top of my drum kit and spinning around to face the last few autumn leaves still clinging to the branches outside my window.

“Oh, it’s happening all right,” she tells me. “Let me explain. First, it’s been exactly six months since you left town, and six months is the maximum amount of time that a person is allowed to sit at home wallowing in their own sorrows.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I laugh despite myself. I wouldn’t exactly say I’ve been wallowing, but I have to admit there’s a ring of truth to it. “OK, fine. So what’s the second thing?”

“The second? I give you these words: The. Lost. Souls.”

I gasp. “Oh my gosh, what? Are they gonna be in town?” June knows I’ve been a huge fan since their early days, but I’ve never seen them live.

“Kacie, my girl, The Lost Souls are playing three sold-out shows right here at the club this weekend, and if you come early to help me set up on Friday, I can introduce you to the band.”

“Seriously?” June has some history with their wildly charismatic leading man, Anthony Von Essen, and she got to know the whole band when they played the club last year.

“Yes, ma’am.”

It would be amazing to see The Lost Souls onstage, especially at a smaller venue like this. And it would be fun to hang out with June in Chicago again.

Except Micah is in Chicago.

Although I’ve been missing him so badly it hurts, I can’t bear the thought of seeing The Heat’s name up on the marquee at some club knowing he’s playing with Rebecca now. Just thinking about the two of them up onstage together sends icy stabs straight through my heart.

No—that whole Chicago music scene is nothing but bad memories for me now, and the last thing I want to do is throw myself right back into it.

“Wow, June. That sounds fantastic, really, but?—”

“No, no, no, Kacie. Please. Please come out and see me this weekend? You can stay at my place after the show, and in the morning we’ll go out and stuff ourselves full of pancakes at The Dive. It’s going to be fan-tabulous.”

“Oh gosh, June. No—I totally would. It’s just that…I’ve already got plans,” I try.

“Hmm. Really, Kacie?” I can almost see her eyes squinting through the phone. “Let’s see. It’s a Friday night, so I’m guessing it’s another hot date with your big, comfy couch and Grey’s Anatomy reruns. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I’m cringing because she knows me too well. “OK, fine. Maybe I am looking forward to a nice quiet evening at home with Patrick Dempsey. But seriously, I know you’re going to have an amazing time seeing The Lost Souls. It’s just…I’m just…I’m not going to be able to come out.”

I stare down at my favorite black tennies and grind a toe into the floor.

There’s a pause, and I can sense the mood shifting.

“OK, Kacie girl. Listen, I love you. I know you got hurt when Rebecca moved in on The Heat like that, especially right as you guys were starting to make it big. And fine—maybe that last show didn’t go so well.

But one of these days you’re gonna have to put yourself back out there, because sometimes shit happens.

You can’t let it get the best of you. You can’t just give up and hide away from the rest of your life. ”

Oh. So she’s noticed.

“R-r-right.”

I spin back toward my kit and run my hand over the cool metal edge of my snare. I let my palm drift across the tight, tensioned surface, feeling all the little divots where my sticks have worn it away over the years.

I had such big dreams. I thought Micah and I were going to make it all the way to the top. Together. But then I found out he was planning to replace me.

“You’ve got to stop with all this negative thinking, all right?

” she says. “I mean, you and Micah were fucking incredible as The Heat. You guys were the whole music scene back then. And you’re a total phenomenon on drums. Honestly, I’ve probably seen a thousand bands play here at the club, and I’ve never seen anything like you up on that stage. ”

I’m stunned by the sincerity in her voice, but then again, June has always had this make-believe rockstar image of me that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Ohhh…well, The Heat was something special, for sure,” I agree. “But that was 100 percent Micah. ”

“No. You’ve gotta give yourself credit, girl. You were the real deal right there, and there’s no way The Heat is ever going to be anything special without you on drums. Period.”

What June is saying to me right now…well, it really would be incredible, if only it were true.

But even back when I was still in The Heat, I knew I was playing way out of my league, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found out Micah was rehearsing with Rebecca behind my back.

I couldn’t blame him for wanting to trade up for a better drummer, but that band was my whole world. I was desperate to hold on to it. I kept clinging to the hope that he might change his mind, so I tried to keep up appearances, and I never let on that I knew.

We’d had this big show coming up, and a talent scout for a label was coming out to see us.

I figured if I could just make a good impression on the scout, then maybe Micah would decide to keep me after all.

But then, just as we were about to go onstage, Rebecca ran up and kissed him, and something inside me snapped.

It was like the whole world went into slow motion.

My hands started shaking so badly I could barely hold on to my sticks, and my mind went blank.

I couldn’t remember the songs. I couldn’t remember my beats.

I ended up running off the stage in a full-blown panic attack.

It was the most humiliating experience of my life.

The next day I told Micah that I wasn’t going to be able to be the drummer that he needed—that I wanted to move on to other things.

He was shocked, and he seemed upset that I was leaving so suddenly, but I didn’t want to make things any harder on him than they already were.

If I’m being honest, I was trying to save face.

It felt better to be the drummer who quit The Heat rather than the one who got fired from it.

The awful truth? The Heat was better off without me.

I manage a simple, “That’s sweet of you to say, June.”

But how can June not realize the music of The Heat is all Micah?

Micah, with his soul-crushing lyrics and dreamy bedroom eyes.

Micah, who plays the guitar like it’s a freaking extension of his incredible body.

Micah, with his sultry voice that will set your heart ablaze and shatter your very being into a million little pieces.

And me? I’m just plain old…me. There’s nothing special about my appearance, and there’s nothing special about the way I play.

I haven’t even had any formal training. My nana had an old drum set lying around the house, and I taught myself how to play just by listening to my favorite songs over and over and trying to match the beats.

No, Micah is The Heat, and I was only holding him back.

“You know, I saw him last week,” June cuts into my thoughts.

“Who, Micah? How did he look?” I ask a little too eagerly.

“Well, gorgeous as ever. But he’s seemed a little sad since you left.”

“Wait, seriously?” I hadn’t really thought about how Micah would be feeling after I left. With world-famous Rebecca on drums and everything going so well for the band, I figured he must be doing great.

“I don’t know,” June says “He just seems down, I guess? A little lost maybe. But he said you guys have been talking again, and he seems happy about that.”

“Yeah, it’s been a lot better between us lately,” I tell her. “He calls me sometimes, just to say hi.”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so happy to hear that. I know how close you two were, and it broke my heart when I found out you weren’t speaking after you left.”

“Yeah, but he did try calling and texting me a few times back then. I guess I needed to put some space between us. ”

“Oh. I didn’t realize. But sure—that makes sense, hun.”

“It’s still a little awkward, you know? But I’m hoping that’ll get better with time.”

“I think it will. I mean, at least he understands why you quit, right?”

“Uhh…not exactly? He just thinks I wasn’t interested in being in the band anymore, but honestly it’s better that way because the whole thing is so humiliating. I don’t blame him for doing what he did. I mean, music is his whole life.”

“Kacie.”

“No. I mean, I understand why he needed Rebecca on drums. But I wish he’d told me what was going on, so I wouldn’t have had to figure it out on my own.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. He should never have gone behind your back to start playing with her, especially after everything you guys had built together. It wasn’t right, and he needs to know that.”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah, maybe.”

“Mm-hmm, yes .”

“Yeah, maybe.” I tug at a loose thread that’s hanging from the hem of my T-shirt. “But hey, did you hear he’s got a new record deal? He’s recording an album for a label right now, and they are putting together a whole tour to promote him and everything.”

“Whoa, well good for him. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”

That is weird. I would think he’d be telling anyone who would listen.

“Yeah. Seems like Rebecca is taking his music to a whole new level,” I say, my voice loaded with sarcasm.

“Ha. As if.” June laughs, but we both know Rebecca has incredible skill.

“OK, sweetie. I’ve gotta head over to the club. ”

“Yeah, sure thing. Hey—thanks for calling and…checking up on me,” I tell her.

“Anytime, my love. And think about what I said, OK?” she reminds me as we hang up.

I am thinking about something June said, but it’s the part about how Micah seems sad.

Is it possible he’s been missing me as much as I’ve been missing him? Or could he even be regretting getting so cozy with Rebecca and basically forcing me out of the band?

Not that he forced me to make a fool of myself and run off the stage. I did that all on my own.

But still, it was pretty convenient for him, having Rebecca ready to slot into his up-and-coming band right as all the label interest started rolling in.

Except—I know Micah. I know how much he cares about me, which only makes the whole thing that much more painful.

My mind drifts away, thinking about how things used to be, the way he’d fix those icy blue eyes on me whenever we were playing together. Even though it was only ever the music happening between us, having Micah’s eyes all over me was downright thrilling.

I head over to my drum kit and pull up an old recording he made back when he was first writing songs for The Heat. As the music starts up, I can feel his guitar chords resonating through my chest, and that soft, gravelly edge in his voice starts working its way into my soul.

I sit down on my drum stool, grabbing my sticks and twirling them a few times.

Closing my eyes, I start to play along. In my mind’s eye I can see Micah’s broad, strong hands as they move over his guitar, strumming and sliding across the frets.

I sway as I lock into his rhythm, succumbing to the flow of his music.

It was always surreal, almost intoxicating, seeing him play. Being right there onstage with him, supplying those beats that gave his songs their haunting groove? Well, that was my very own slice of heaven—our bodies moving together in time with the music.

It was almost sexual, really, except that there has never been anything sexual between us. No, Micah can have any woman he wants, and I am not one of the women he wants.

For as long as I’ve known him he’s been surrounded by flocks of slay-all-day beauties trying to get a piece of him.

I don’t blame them, honestly, because Micah is freaking gorgeous.

No hot-blooded woman could resist that exquisitely chiseled jawline, his smoldering gaze, or the way the veins ripple down his muscular arms when he plays guitar.

But even though Micah is a living, breathing girl magnet, he’s not a player.

Or, maybe he is? I honestly don’t know much about his sex life because that’s the one part of himself that he’s always kept private.

And even if I did want to know more, I wouldn’t go there because we’re just friends.

Besides—he’s not the long-term relationship type.

Everywhere he goes he leaves a trail of broken hearts in his wake, and though the thought of being between the sheets with Micah Andrews is enough to make my knees go weak, I have no plans to become one of those broken hearts.

The truth is, he’s the best friend I’ve ever had. When he came into my life, it was the first time I’d truly connected with someone. He knows my heart better than anyone, and he’s the closest I’ve felt to home since my mom skipped town and left me with Nana back when I was seven.

I guess that’s why the way things went down with Micah hurt so much. I never expected him to ditch me the way my mom did. But maybe I should have.

“Whoa.” I startle right out of my own thoughts as I somehow land on a beat that brings out a whole new aspect of his song. I have to pause the recording and play it back a few times just to be sure, but it’s undeniable. It’s the beat that this song has been begging for all along.

I reach for my phone to call Micah and let him know, but I stop myself. He’d probably die laughing if he knew I still listen to his scratchy old recordings (let alone that I actually play along with them and work out new drum parts in my spare time).

Nothing else can bring back that feeling I had when we were playing together. The feeling that the world was melting away until it was only the two of us, together, the music flowing between us like electricity.

Like it was what we were born to do.

That is, until Rebecca showed up and it all came crashing down.