12. Cass
CHAPTER 12
Cass
L eeds, Saturday, August 23rd
I woke slowly, like surfacing through layers of warmth and quiet. The backs of my lids were drenched in brightness—sunlight, slipping through a crack in the heavy curtains and splashing gold over the charcoal walls.
Levi . Was he?—?
Yes. I could tell he was here without even turning over, sense it in the dip of the mattress and the nearly inaudible breaths he drew. He hadn’t run come morning. That was... good? Unless he’d only stayed to crush my heart.
Jesus. Seemed I’d woken up on the dramatic side of the bed.
I rolled over and found him already awake. Propped up on one elbow, he was watching me with a slow smile that felt private, sunlight softening the angles of his face in a way that made him appear younger. He didn’t look like he regretted last night.
Something eased around my ribs. “Hi.”
“G’morning.” Warm and a little thoughtful, but not closed off. Not like he was gearing up for some kind of speech about how thanks, he’d finally gotten me out of his system—or, worse, how it had been just a leftover bit of stage magic. Look at that—no one’s quite immune to the Cassian Monroe. Funny, innit?
“You’re, uh.” I glanced around us, at the messy sprawl of white linens, crumpled and thrown about like they held my secrets tucked into their folds. “You’re still here.”
He hesitated. “Yeah. Never been the kind to run.”
Unlike me?
My thought must have been easy to read because he sighed. “Hey, no. Not how I meant it.”
“Right.” I shifted slightly and forced myself to meet his eyes again. “And I, you know—you still being here. I was afraid you were, like, trying to fuck me out of your system.”
He stayed silent for a beat, studying me with an intensity I couldn’t quite decipher, his eyes a lucid green in the morning light. “I don’t know,” he said finally, a hint of distance in his tone. “If so, it didn’t work.”
He’d always been the honest type. I appreciated it, in spite of the raw ache in my throat. “I’m glad it didn’t.”
I reached for him, careful and slow, giving him plenty of time to pull back. He didn’t move. So I cupped his jaw, fingers brushing over the prickle of stubble. Closer, until only our foreheads touched, the duvet caught somewhere between our bare chests, and still he made no attempt to extricate himself. The weight of that settled in my chest, heavy like hope. I kissed him—gentle, just a close-mouthed press of our lips because morning breath was a thing, but it calmed the ripples of my thoughts.
He drew back first, sliding a hand along the curve of my hip. “I should get back, though. Cosma and the lads expect me at breakfast.”
Of course. He had a life, and I couldn’t expect him to put it on hold for me.
I inhaled, staring at the nightstand and its orderly arrangement of objects, disrupted by a half-empty glass of water that we’d shared last night. We hadn’t bothered with a shower, just splashed some water on ourselves to wash off the worst of the sweat and lube and come—and maybe part of me hadn’t wanted to get clean at all, keeping the memory of him right there on my skin.
The way he’d moved in me, every thrust deliberate, fingers digging into my thigh. His breath hot against my throat. Restoring a claim he’d never lost.
“Cass?” he asked, still gently touching me, as though I was a delicate thing to be cherished.
“Come back later?” I asked.
He hesitated just long enough for it to register. “I can’t.” His hand pressed flat against my stomach. “Emily and I need to pack. We’re going on holiday tomorrow—a week in Italy, just before school starts again.”
“Oh.” I strove for neutral and failed because this? This was the first I’d heard of it. Not that he needed to keep me updated on his schedule or anything, but we hadn’t even discussed the next outing or photo op. Mostly because he’d suggested that we ‘play it by ear,’ which must have shaved a decade off my publicist’s life expectancy. I hadn’t wanted to push him, though, because the truth was that he owed me nothing.
“Going to Sardinia.” Levi’s mouth curved into a curious tilt as he considered me. “We’ll have a whole villa to ourselves, up in the hills—pool, gym, a huge garden, sea views…”
My last real vacation had been, what, a year ago? I’d rented a private island in the Maldives together with some friends. While it had been good fun, a couple people had brought partners I didn’t know, so I hadn’t been able to relax completely even then.
“Sounds nice,” I said with a smile I didn’t feel.
“Yeah.” Another pause, then he cleared his throat. “You’ve probably got plans. Almost certainly since, you know—you’re you. But if not, you could come? There’s an extra bedroom. I kind of fell in love with the pictures on the website, so, yeah, it’s way too big.”
The tangle of words was unusual for him, and I needed a second to process what he meant. I could… come? To Sardinia, with him and Emily?
“ Really ?” Bright disbelief blurred the contours of my question.
“Well, yeah.” He gave a half-shrug that didn’t quite pass for casual, still propped up on his side. “If you’re not too scared of my parents. They’re coming too.”
Oh, hell. His parents were lovely people and had treated me like family—warm in a way mine never quite managed, not even with me. Geoff and Cecily. Six years, give or take, since I’d last seen them.
I looked away from Levi and caught sight of his sneakers—one upright, the other on its side where it rested near the bed. “Do they hate me now?”
“Why would they?” he asked, which, come on . I shot him a narrow glance, and he let one side of his mouth curl up into something halfway to a wistful smile. “No. My parents still love you, Cass, even with how things ended. They’re sad about that, yeah. But I think they understand how scared you were. More than I did at the time.”
I blinked dust and sunlight out of my eyes. “Thank you.”
He paused. “What for?”
“Not making me the villain. With them, or with the other guys. You could have easily done that.” I circled his wrist with my fingers and realized that his pulse was beating a little too fast. Oh . We stared at each other, something raw in his eyes that told me he wouldn’t reject me. If I covered him up—I was maybe still loose enough from last night to just sink down, no condom, feel him again…
But, no. Not like that.
I didn’t want to trick him into giving in. Last night had been his move, his decision—I owed him that. Back then, I’d walked away; if he let me in now, it needed to be his choice. All I could do was show him that this time, I was ready.
I released his wrist and shifted back just a little, but not to the point where it seemed like I was pulling away. God, this would be a balancing act. “So,” I said softly, “thank you for that.”
He nodded, slow, watching me for another beat before he glanced away. “I told them, by the way. That you’re planning to come out.”
“Your parents?” I asked—which, yeah, obviously. It just took me a moment to process that these two people I’d… well. Who I’d admired, once upon a time. Who I’d desperately wanted to like me because somehow, it lessened the sting of my mum’s and dad’s unspoken disapproval. And now they knew something I had yet to tell my own parents. “How did they react?”
“They’re proud of you.” His smile was true, if a little careful. “I also told them I’m helping, as long as Emmy stays out of it.”
“And they were just… cool with that?”
He looked a little shifty. “I’m an adult, you know.”
So they’d had some concerns—I couldn’t blame them. But this was getting too heavy when I wanted Levi to remember this as a moment drenched in warmth and brightness. I shot him a small grin. “Trust me, I’m well aware you’re all grown up.”
His expression relaxed, humor tugging at his lips. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“It’s meant to be one.”
“Oh, good. I aim to please.” He hesitated. “Anyway. About Sardinia—you’re probably booked out for the next couple of years, so. I just thought you looked a bit tired, is all.”
He was serious about this. And I shouldn’t read too much into it—we’d been friends first, and it didn’t mean... Well. How many people went from friends to lovers to strangers, and then jumped into a successful friends-with-benefits arrangement? It wasn’t what I wanted. Not when I was still—well, anyway .
But I’d take whatever he was willing to give.
“I was just going to catch up with a few people here, work on some music. Nothing I can’t cancel.” My heart thudded in my chest. “But it wouldn’t be part of the whole faking-it thing, right?”
“I mean...” His hand was still curled against the side of my neck. He let it fall to lie flat on the mattress. “We could take a few pictures, post them afterwards? Not while we’re there, though. We don’t want people figuring out where we are, right?”
“Levi, no.” I covered his hand and squeezed. “I actually meant that I wouldn’t want that. Just us is good. Nothing to do with... that.”
“Oh.” His body language shifted, just subtly—his foot brushing mine, gaze lingering on my face. “Okay, yeah. Good.”
“Good,” I echoed, and a small, crooked smile broke through his somber air.
“You’ll come, then?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Even if what we wanted were two different things, even if I might get hurt—I’d happily risk it for another chance with him. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Wow,” he said with a chuckle. “ Formal .”
I kissed the grin off his face, morning breath be damned, and it was another couple of minutes before he rolled out of bed, quickly gathering his clothes before he dashed off to meet his acts. There was a small, nearly invisible hickey just above the collar of his hoodie. I decided not to mention it.
The room plunged into silence once he’d left. I fell back onto the bed, into sheets that still smelled like him, and didn’t move for a long time. Sardinia, huh? Well, hey. Maybe a nice, big scoop of gelato would sweeten the potential heartbreak.
* * *
Olbia, Sunday, August 24th
Some thirty hours later, I stepped into a clean, salty breeze, the faint outline of hills in the distance. The sun was already tilting toward the horizon. A black rental car awaited us on the tarmac, Frank inspecting it with a critical eye while I greeted the guy who’d delivered it.
“Buenas noches!” I said, only to then wonder if that was Spanish. It had been months since my last show in Italy, and while I always tried to pick up a few words for the local crowds, I tended to forget half of them within a week.
The guy gave a polite nod, clearly not a man of many words, and went to help Frank with the luggage. I checked briefly whether the prearranged additional suitcase, filled with holiday essentials, was already sitting in the trunk, then shoved my sunglasses into my hair and slid into the car’s cool interior.
My assistant had outdone herself. She carried a gold iPhone and wore Louboutin heels, but I clearly wasn’t paying her enough. I leaned back in the plush leather seat and disabled my phone’s airplane mode to tell her just that. A message from Mason diverted my attention.
‘Italy?!?’
Funny how Levi and I had spent years hiding from the public, but when it came to the other guys, gossip traveled like it had frequent flyer miles to burn. ‘Who told you?’ I wrote back before composing a heartfelt ode of gratitude to my assistant.
Once Frank started driving, I put my phone down for a little while to enjoy the view. The road wound lazily through stretches of Mediterranean scrub, olive trees casting long shadows over the dusty asphalt. The island itself was bathed in golden evening light, and every so often, the landscape opened up to reveal glimpses of the rugged coastline.
When I checked my phone again, Mason had replied. ‘Levi told Jace,’ his text said as though it answered my question. It kind of did.
‘And Jace told you?’
‘And Ellis.’
Of course. I bit down on a smile. ‘Should Levi and I start charging you guys rent for living in our business?’
‘We mean well.’
I glanced up when we turned off the main road onto a narrower path lined with stone walls. Bougainvillea seemed to spill out of nowhere, vivid pinks and purples catching the last light of the day. ‘Funny enough,’ I wrote back, ‘I don’t actually doubt that.’
He replied with a string of hearts and pleased-looking emojis that might be ironic or maybe not. It was followed by, ‘You know what you’re doing?’
Not even a little.
‘Did you ask Levi the same thing?’ I replied instead.
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
‘Attorney-client privilege,’ he shot back.
I snorted to myself. ‘You’re not a lawyer, bro.’
‘Got one on speed dial, though. Point is, Levi’s secrets are safe with me. Just like yours.’
Which… yeah. I knew and appreciated that about him, about all of them. In a way, it was how we’d worked as a band—among ourselves, we gossiped like fishwives at the market, but we drew our lines and protected each other. Otherwise, we never would have lasted as long as we did.
I was still considering how to reply when my assistant reacted to my earlier note. ‘Lovely. I expect a handwritten thank you, though. Preferably on a check.’
Sassy bitch. Honestly, it was part of her charm.
‘How about a spa weekend at the Fairmont?’ I asked.
‘Sold.’
That settled, I returned to my chat with Mason. I could ignore his question—his attention span wasn’t that great, and he might forget. But my chest felt ready to burst like a balloon that flew too close to the sun.
‘I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.’ I didn’t send it just yet, turning my face into the breeze that rushed through an open crack in the window. The space behind my lids was filled with dizzy spots of light, and I clutched my phone, took a couple of deep breaths that carried a hint of rosemary and something briny from the coast.
I’m still in love with him. I don’t think I ever stopped.
A golden-hour glow hung in front of my eyes when I blinked them open. So, yeah. That was a thing. It didn’t feel like a massive revelation—more a shift in perception, like cresting a mountain and catching sight of the sprawling fields beyond.
I unlocked my phone, erased what I’d already written, and replaced it with, ‘I just know I’m still in love with him. The rest? No fucking clue.’
‘That’s my boy,’ Mason replied, which really wasn’t helpful, yet somehow made me feel a little lighter all the same.
‘You gonna pat me on the head next time we meet?’ I asked.
‘It’s under consideration.’ He was still typing, so I waited for the rest of his message. ‘But seriously, man. You’re overdue for a vacation. So I’m glad Lee convinced you to take one.’
Should I tell Mason how it had come about? The hesitant softness in Levi’s eyes, morning painting a strip of light across his shoulder. ‘You could come?’ And the night before that—God. It still felt too big, too precious to put into a few simple words.
‘Not sure how relaxed I’ll be with his parents there,’ I wrote instead.
‘You’ll charm them just like you used to,’ Mason responded. ‘It’s what you do.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’
‘Anytime. Love ya, bro.’
I sent a ‘Right back at you’ before I put my phone aside and sank lower in my seat to drink in the island’s evening colors. The tires hummed in my bones as the roads grew ever smaller, each minute taking me closer to Levi.
Six days. I didn’t know how, but I wanted to make them count.
* * *
Porto Cervo, Sunday, August 24th
The villa looked…
It looked like home. My home, specifically. The one Levi and I had shared. Warm terracotta walls, a tiled roof, and plants sprawling over the arched entrance. What was it he’d said about this place here—it was too big, but he’d fallen in love with the pictures?
The car rolled to a bumpy stop on the cobblestone pathway. I got out and stretched, a small give of my spine, while Frank popped the trunk. He’d stay in a nearby apartment, ready to act as my parachute in case I needed him. When he offered to carry my bags inside, I waved him off with “Thank you, I’m good,” just as Levi walked out, his parents right behind him. I straightened.
All right. I could do this. Even if Geoff and Cecily likely had reservations about me being here, definitely had some reservations about Levi helping me plant some rumors—he’d said they didn’t hate me. He’d said they were proud . So. I would win them over again, right along with Emily, and maybe somehow, that would convince Levi that he loved me, still or again, and our lives were compatible.
Solid plan.
“You good here?” Frank asked.
“Great.” I shot him a smile. “Grazie, Frank.”
He snorted and squeezed my shoulder before he got back in the car, but hey, whatever. That had been Italian. Probably. No, I was ninety percent sure. At least eighty. Christ, this was what I got for barely scraping through high school—being tutored on the road between concerts, interviews, and recording our first album hadn’t helped my grades.
“ Listen to you,” Levi said in lieu of a greeting, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Almost passing for a local already.”
“Almost, yeah.” I strove for a light smile to gloss over the stupid thudding of my heart. “Question, though: is buenas noches Italian?”
His smile was fond if a little hesitant as he took his hands out of his pockets. “Spanish, actually.”
“Oops,” I said quietly. For a beat, we both hovered on the verge of a hug—leaning in, with his parents just a step away. Only neither of us quite closed the gap, so he ended up patting my shoulder with a small, sweet grin, awkward but genuine. It eased a knot of tension at the base of my spine because maybe a part of me had worried he would regret inviting me.
I turned to his parents. Geoff gave me a brisk nod followed by a firm clap on the back. “Good to see you, son,” he said, and God, I remembered that—like walking back into a room I’d half forgotten. The way he’d always called me ‘son’ like it was a sign of approval.
Cecily sidestepped him to pull me into a real hug, short and strong, before she let go to look at me. “Levi told us you’re going to come out.” Her accent was bright and familiar. “That’s really brave. We’re so proud of you, love.”
I swallowed at the way her ‘o’ went round and open on ‘love’—just like when Levi used to call me the same. “Thank you,” I managed.
“ Okay ,” Levi said with pointed emphasis. “I think that’s quite enough with the emotional displays here. Three of us are Brits—there’s only so much of that we can handle.”
“Speak for yourself,” Cecily said.
“Two of us are British males,” he amended. “Have some mercy.”
“You’re not that bad,” I told him. He really wasn’t—not back then, not from what I remembered, and we’d sure had a number of tough conversations lately. Yeah, his voice tended to go flat in difficult moments, but he wasn’t running like some guys would.
“Well, I am trying to be a role model for Emily.” Self-deprecating humor shaded the statement when I was ready to bet it held a lot of truth.
We headed inside, Levi’s parents leading the way, he and I following with one suitcase each. I ditched my shoes by the door, stone tiles underfoot, a warm breeze sweeping in through open windows, walls rounded and corners arched as though the architect had tried to avoid sharp angles. A beautiful hush filled the space.
“Is Emily already asleep?” I asked, lowering my voice.
Levi slid me a quick smile. “The little miss went to bed grumpy because she wanted to bring her cat and her best friend. In that order.”
“Priorities.” I nodded gravely. “So why didn’t you let her?”
“Cats don’t like to travel.”
I bit down on a grin that he caught anyway.
“What’s so funny?”
“You becoming a cat expert. Who’d have thought?” I wasn’t actually looking for a reply, so I moved on right away. “No, I meant the friend. Why not bring them?”
“Partly because Emmy and her friend Lissie have already spent most of the summer attached at the hip.” He set the first suitcase down, gesturing for me to do the same with the second as he said, “We’ll take them to your room later.”
My room . Of course—it wasn’t like I’d expected to share his. It still felt like an exclamation mark somehow, and I smiled through the sting. “You said partly. What’s the other reason?”
“Lissie, her mom, and her little sister are staying at my house to look after Alba. Sarah—uh, the mom.” He paused, a faraway glint of sympathy in his eyes. “She’s a single parent, and not exactly flush with cash. So staying in a big house, a garden to play in, it’s a nice change, you know? And Alba likes the company.”
Typical—hiding his big heart behind barbed wire or under a layer of pragmatism. “That’s good of you,” I said.
“It’s no big deal.”
“It probably is a big deal to Sarah.”
Before he could further defend himself against allegations of generosity, his mom called from what seemed to be the direction of the kitchen. “Cass, love—we’ve got leftovers. Are you hungry?”
I almost declined, then remembered it was how she showed her affection. The rare times Levi and I had managed to drop by during the band days, she always shoved food at us, trying to get a few pounds on our skinny teenage frames.
“I’d love a bite,” I told her. “Haven’t had a home-cooked meal in forever.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed. When I glanced at Levi—always glancing at Levi—he mouthed “Suck up” even as his lips curled into a grin.
We ended up on the terrace, a plate of leftover pasta in front of me, the others picking at a platter of cheese that might have been curated by Italian gods. The sun was sinking fast now, painting the horizon in streaks of amber and rose. From here, the hills seemed to tumble straight into the sea. Geoff and Cecily shared a bottle of red wine, while opposite me, Levi poured something yellow and fizzy into his own wine glass, adding ice and a slice of orange.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Crodino,” he said. “Kind of a bitter aperitif. Non-alcoholic.”
“Red wine for you, Cass?” Geoff offered with a tilt of his chin at the bottle.
I shook my head. “Nah, I’ll join Levi if there’s more of that crodino stuff.”
“You can drink, you know? It really doesn’t bother me.” Levi’s tone was light, but I got the underlying message—no need to walk on eggshells.
I shrugged. “It’s fine, honestly. Never been that big a drinker, remember?”
It was true. Yeah, I’d joined the others when we had beers on the bus, or sometimes a bottle of vodka shared after a concert, until Levi and Ellis had started upping the quantity and the rest of us tried to slow them down. But booze had never been my addiction. Applause, on the other hand, a crowd roaring with approval…
“True,” Levi said softly, something gentle in the way he studied me. Then he looked away, and we let quiet settle. Just the slight rustle of the evening breeze in the bushes, the sea too far below to register as more than the idea of sound.
There were things I should say.
I gave it a couple of minutes before I set down my fork, clearing my throat as I looked from Geoff to Cecily. “I, uh. I wanted to say I’m really sorry about Jessica.” My voice had dropped to something barely above the sway of leaves and the faint lapping of water against the edge of the pool. I didn’t want to trample all over their grief, but I couldn’t just… say nothing. “I didn’t know, or I would have…” Done what , exactly? Sent flowers, written a sad song? Nothing that would have made a difference. “Jess was an amazing person. I’m just really, really sorry.”
Geoff’s jaw tightened a fraction as Cecily’s eyes went moist, only just noticeable in the fading light. Levi inhaled audibly, his focus drifting to the horizon.
“Thank you,” Cecily said after a moment, reaching for Geoff’s hand. He squeezed back. “It was a tough time for all of us. We still miss her every day, but life goes on. It has to.”
“She made me promise, you know.” Levi paused, his words wrapped in shadows. “Before she went into surgery. She made me promise that I’d take care of Emmy, and that we’d keep moving—for Emmy’s sake, but for our own, too. Told her it was silly because she’d make it through, and she’d get better.”
He fell abruptly silent, and I pressed my lips together against the devastating truth that no, she hadn’t. Under the table, I caught one of Levi’s feet between both of mine, the sky a deep cobalt by now, night pressing in.
“She didn’t wake up again,” he finished in a cracked whisper.
Oh, Jesus.
I scrunched my nose against the itch of tears and touched Levi’s hand. He gripped my fingers, tight enough to hurt, and I held on as words slipped through my grasp.
I should have been there. It was my fault he’d thought I didn’t care enough, and even if he’d chosen to forgive me, I sure wasn’t ready to do the same.
I should have fucking been there.
He drew a shaky breath. “Stop,” he told me. “You didn’t know. If you had, you would have dropped everything to be there—I know that now.”
I swallowed, dimly aware that his parents were listening. “Never should have made you doubt it.”
He shook his head, the pool’s gentle blue glow dancing along his features. “We both made mistakes. Let’s leave it at that and move on.”
His tone made it clear he didn’t want me to argue, so I didn’t. No one said more for a bit—not awkward, just thoughtful and a little heavy with memories. I remembered the first time I’d met Jessica, backstage before a concert. Levi and I had still been edging around each other, a mix of excitement and trepidation flirting along my spine each time I thought about taking a step I couldn’t undo. ‘Jess, this is Cass,’ he’d said, and she treated me to this slow, knowing smile that said she could read me like an open book.
Eventually, Levi’s hold on my hand eased and I let him go, my feet still loosely clasping one of his. He made no attempt to move away.
Conversation resumed slowly, in little starts and stops. Cecily and Geoff asked me about my music, something in their voices suggesting they’d listened to at least some of it and had maybe drawn their own conclusions. I doubted Levi had bothered, or he might have been less inclined to think I didn’t care—I’d chosen my singles to be less revealing, but half the songs on my second and third albums had regret stamped all over them.
Levi’s parents turned in around ten, claiming they were knackered, and then it was just Levi and me on the terrace. The pool lights had dimmed, not so bright as to wash out the stars, and he leaned back in his chair, face turned up to the sky. His neck was slim and elegant. I wanted him so much it felt like a physical ache that sliced through my gut.
His choice.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I said, my words a gentle ripple along the nighttime hush. “I haven’t really slowed down in… a while.”
His lips curved slightly. “I’m glad you came. It’s nice to…” He paused, eyes on me, too dark to read his expression. “It’s been really good. To see you again.”
“You too,” I said, and it didn’t even come close .
We let another pocket of silence pulse between us, the night breeze like a lullaby. When our blinks got heavier, Levi stood, smoothing down his shirt. “Come on. You seem tired, and I’m about to pass out. Let’s get you settled.”
I followed him inside, my thoughts drifting in a lazy current, a little fascinated by the sway of his ass in a pair of soft-washed shorts. When he caught me looking, one side of his mouth twitched up, but he didn’t comment.
Our footsteps echoed in the quiet house as we picked up my suitcases before he led me into a lovely room—airy, with pale walls and a window that probably looked out over the garden. “I hope this is okay?” he asked. “My parents took the master bedroom, and Emily picked the room next to them, so it’s just us on this side of the house.”
“It’s great.” I turned to look at him, framed in the doorway with his arms crossed like he was protecting himself. “Seriously.”
“Good. I’m—just in case you need anything, I mean. I’m right across the hallway.”
Not an invitation, was it? I stepped a little closer, smiling, and his attention dropped to my mouth. Please, Lee. Hands by my side as I waited for him to make up his mind.
He stepped back, eyes gentle and quiet. “Good night, Cass. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“‘Night,” I said, not quite steady.
He slipped out and shut the door. For a long moment, I didn’t move, willing him to come back. He didn’t. Of course not, and I had no right to be disappointed. I hadn’t come here with expectations.
Just… hopes.