Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
This was stupid,Cassie thought a week later, as she sat in her car on a Tuesday evening.
Yes, she was lonely, and yes she needed to find new friends, but maybe this wasn’t the way of doing it.
She looked at the crumpled flyer sitting on the empty passenger seat of her car.
Wanted – keyboardist and supporting vocalist. Open Auditions, Moonlight Bar, Tuesday the 25th.
She’d picked the flier up at the coffee shop yesterday, while she was waiting for her cappuccino. And at the time she’d thought maybe this would be a good thing, because she needed friends outside of her best friend and her family.
Cassie could play the keyboard easily. They’d all had to learn an instrument at school and she’d chosen the piano. It had been useful over the years, and after the accident she’d found it mindful to play her favorite tunes while she was stuck at home, recovering from her injuries.
And yeah, she could sing too. Another skill that had been drummed into them as students. And the ad said the vocalist would only be supporting. She assumed it was harmonies rather than having to take the lead.
And she could do that.
It’s not as though you’re auditioning to be the next Taylor Swift.
Well, that was true. It was just a local band. They’d probably practice once a week and play a gig every now and then. It was a way to meet new people and fill her evenings up.
And if she was being truly honest, part of her missed the buzz of performing on a stage. Sure, it was great teaching little ones.
But sometimes – not too often – she craved that adrenaline rush of knowing she was in the spotlight. That everyone was looking at her.
The door to the bar opened, and a man walked out carrying a black case, looking dejected. She’d been sitting in the lot for ten minutes and this was the first time she’d seen anybody walk in or out.
“Either do it or don’t do it, but stop messing around,” she muttered to herself.
And then, with a rush of bravado she wasn’t expecting, she grabbed the flier from the passenger seat and wrenched her car door open, climbing out before she changed her mind again.
The moon was bright overhead as she walked down the sidewalk toward the bar, illuminating the tall buildings of the town square, stopping short at the entrance under the partly lit illuminated sign. Moonlight Bar. The first o kept flickering on and off.
The door to the bar was stiff, and she had to push her shoulder against it to force it open, before stumbling inside gracelessly.
Luckily, she still had a dancer’s reactions and regained her footing with ease. The bar was empty, save for three men sitting in the corner all looking at her.
Oh great. They’d caught her embarrassing entrance.
And then her breath caught. Because even in the gloom she recognized one of the men. No. She recognized two.
Presley Hartson had a twin. They looked so similar it took her breath away. Gemma had said there were brothers, but she didn’t expect to see a duplicate.
“You okay?” the twin asked. She knew it wasn’t Presley because he was smiling.
“Sorry. I…” Dear God no. They weren’t the band, were they?
“Are you here for the audition?” the third guy – not Presley or his twin – asked. “Come on in. Did you bring your keyboard?”
“No.” It was about all she could say. Was it too late to turn around and leave?
Damn right it was. And anyway, she wouldn’t give Presley Hartson the satisfaction of thinking he’d scared her away. She’d audition and then hopefully they wouldn’t choose her.
And maybe she’d still have some dignity left.
“No you’re not here for the audition or no you didn’t bring your keyboard?” Not-Presley asked.
“I didn’t bring my keyboard,” she told him. She hadn’t even unpacked it. And now she felt stupid, because of course she should have.
“She can use the piano,” the third guy said. “You can play… right?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I can play.”
“Come on over here.” He smiled at her and if it was any other time she’d be relieved. But she felt edgy. Stupid. Like she’d made the worst decision of her life by coming here.
Still, she walked toward them anyway, so aware of Presley watching her, unsmiling, as she reached the three of them.
“What’s your name?” his twin asked.
“Cassie Simons.”
“I’m Marley.” He leaned forward to shake her hand. “This is Alex. And the grumpy asshole is Presley.”
“We’ve met,” Presley said, his face betraying no expression.
“You have?”
“I teach Delilah’s ballet class,” Cassie said, taking the seat that Marley was gesturing at.
“You’re the dance teacher?” Marley asked. He looked at Presley and raised a brow. Had they been talking about her?
Had Presley complained about her to his brother?
Ugh, he almost certainly had. They had to be close after all.
“You dance as well as play the keyboard?” Alex asked, shifting his chair a little closer to her.
“Give the lady some space,” Presley growled.
Well okay then.
This wasn’t awkward at all. It wasn’t as though she wanted to bolt right out of here and scream.
“I’m sorry. Coming here was a mistake.” She went to stand, to walk away.
“Why?” That was Presley again.
“Because…” Because we clashed the moment we met. And I can’t stop looking at your arms and wondering if those tattoos continue up past your shoulders and onto your chest.
Because you’re grumpy and growly and for some stupid reason it turns me on.
“I’m Delilah’s teacher. It’s a conflict of interest.”
“Her dance teacher,” Marley said, looking amused. “I don’t think it’s a problem. Can you play the keyboard and sing?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And you understand that this is just a hobby band. We’ll practice together, play some gigs…”
“More than a hobby,” Alex interjected. “I mean, we almost hit it big once.”
Marley shot him a look. Alex shrugged and sat back again.
“I understand. I just thought it would be a nice way to meet new people. Have a little fun.”
Presley still wasn’t saying anything. She looked at him at exactly the same moment he turned to look back at her. The intensity of his eyes made her breath catch in her throat.
It felt like a minute ticked by before they looked away from each other. It had to be less though.
“Why don’t you play us a song,” Marley asked. “Do you have something prepared?”
“Yeah.”
He inclined his head at the piano. She stood, aware that three sets of eyes were following her as she walked over and pulled out the stool, lifting the lid and taking a deep breath.
Just play the song and leave, she told herself. Don’t mess it up.
She wasn’t going to give Presley Hartson the satisfaction.
As soon as her fingers touched the keys, she relaxed. She took a deep, cleansing breath, letting her muscles soften. And then her fingers started to move, soft notes echoing through the bar.
It was an oldie. A U2 song one of her roommates used to love back when they danced together in New York. During their free time, they’d all get together. Sing, dance, and perform for each other.
This had always been her favorite. “With Or Without You”.
Cassie started to sing, matching the timbre of her voice to the notes, making sure she could be heard clearly over the piano. Her eyes were closed, her fingers moving naturally. She could feel the song.
Feel the pain.
Telling the mythical man she was singing to that she couldn’t live with or without him.
She played with passion, her fingers slowly bringing the song to an end. Only when her fingers pressed down on the keys for the last note could she bring herself to look over at the men sitting around the table watching her.
Presley was glaring at her. His eyes were tight. There was a tic in his jaw. Before she could say anything, he stood up.
And walked out.
The door to the bar slammed behind him, and for a moment, she couldn’t move. Had she done something wrong? Had she missed a note?
Alex was staring at the door, looking confused. Marley was running his hands through his hair.
Cassie glanced at the closed door. “Did I do something wrong?”
Marley shook his head. “No. You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
Then what? She pulled the piano lid shut and stood. “Well, thank you for your time.”
“It wasn’t you. That’s not why he ran out,” Marley said. He looked annoyed for the first time. The resemblance to his twin was even stronger now.
“He ran out because he’s an asshole,” Alex muttered.
“That’s my brother you’re talking about,” Marley murmured.
She felt like she was in the middle of something she shouldn’t be. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to walk away.
“The song was played at his wife’s funeral,” Marley said. “That’s why he walked out.”
It was like somebody had thrown a bucket of water over her. She’d chosen his wife’s funeral song? Of all the songs she could have chosen, why that one?
She took a deep breath. She didn’t know. It wasn’t her fault. There was nothing on the flier to say what songs were off limits.
“You sang it well. Really well.” Alex was smiling at her. She got the impression he might even be flirting but she couldn’t be sure.
She didn’t have a radar for that kind of thing.
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I should go.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Marley promised.
“Okay.” She was pretty sure they wouldn’t be. If accusing Presley of being a neglectful father wasn’t bad enough, she’d played the one song guaranteed to rub him the wrong way.
The likelihood of her joining his band was about the same as the likelihood of her hitting number one on the Billboard charts.
And that was fine. Seriously. She didn’t even want to be in it.
She walked across the sticky floor of the bar, toward the door Presley had stormed out of. She could hear Alex and Marley talking softly to each other, no doubt dissecting the shit show that she’d just been part of, as she pulled open the door and stepped outside.
Smack bang into the one person she wanted to see the least.
Damn, it was like walking into a cast iron suit of armor. The wind rushed out of her as she tried to keep herself from stumbling back.
With reactions that were faster than hers, Presley’s hand shot out to steady her, his fingers closing around hers as he pulled her toward him.
The man was made of pure, thick muscle. The kind you got from a hard days’ labor.
What was she supposed to be doing? Oh yeah, breathing. That was it. That would be good.
If she could just remember how.
“Sorry. I was just going back in,” he said, frowning down at her. “Are you okay?”
Her lungs finally inflated. The relief was so sweet she wanted to smile. “I didn’t see you.”
“Ditto.”
He let go of her and she felt the cool outside air wrap around her body, replacing the heat of his touch that she’d already started getting used to. He ran the same hand through his hair, pushing it off of his face.
“I’m sorry. For walking out. You were good. Really good.”
It was stupid how much his opinion warmed her.
“And for being an ass when you arrived. It’s getting to be a habit.”
She looked up at him. His face was partially lit by the lamp that hung outside the bar door. She could see the blue of his eyes as they assessed her.
“I didn’t know,” she told him. “About the song.”
The merest hint of a wince pulled at his brow before he smoothed it away. “My brother told you about that?”
“Him or Alex. I can’t remember which.”
“It was Marley.” He sounded certain. “And it doesn’t matter. It was an excellent song. Suited your voice.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. Was this the most they’d spoken without one of them raising their voices or pissing the other one off? She thought it was, but she’d analyze it later. When she was home and her mind was clear and not all messed up by the emotional high of the audition and the nearness of this man.
“So are you coming back?” he asked.
“Now?”
A smile ghosted his lips. She wondered what it would be like if he let it grow.
“I meant to rehearsals,” he said. “Or did we scare you off?”
“The others said they’d be in touch.” She lifted a brow. “I’m assuming they want to talk to you first. Plus, you must have other auditions.”
“We don’t. You’re the only one we’ve seen who can hold a note and play the keyboard at the same time.” He tipped his head to the side. “So is it a yes?”
“I don’t know…” she said honestly, trailing off because his gaze was so intense. Everything about him was. Maybe that’s why he was so attractive. There was this energy about him that was impossible to ignore.
Sometimes it was light. Sometimes it was dark. But it was always there.
Always pulsing around her.
He dipped his head, as though trying to catch her eye. “Look, if I made you feel uncomfortable in there…”
“You didn’t.” It was only half a lie. “I just wonder if it’s a good idea. I seem to annoy you whenever we come into contact.”
“Annoy me?” he repeated. “You think that?”
“Don’t I?”
“No.”
She waited for him to expand but he didn’t. Instead, he opened the door and turned his head to shout. “You want Cassie to come to rehearsal tomorrow night?”
“Yeah we do,” Marley shouted back.
“Hell yeah,” Alex agreed.
He pulled the door closed and looked at her, his expression unreadable this time. “If you want to be part of the band, you’re in.”