Chapter 2
Cassie
Nine Months Earlier.
T he gravel lot behind Leon’s is dark and shadowy, and my ankle boots crunch on the ground as I stride toward the staff entrance at the rear of the bar.
It’s been raining on and off for days now, and threatening storm clouds hang dark and menacing over the New York City skyline.
The bouncer, Axel, is standing at the back entrance of the bar beneath a rusty awning, wearing a fitted T-shirt and tight black trousers. The guy is huge and a little scary looking with neck tattoos and biceps that are practically the same size as my head. He has a cigarette balanced between his fingertips, and he’s flicking ash to the ground in time with the heavy beat that’s seeping out through the back doors.
“What are you doing here?” he asks .
“I work here, Axel,” I say in the most sarcastic tone I can muster. Axel might be intimidating to look at, but he’s an annoying jackass with an ego even bigger than his biceps.
“No, shit.” He rolls his eyes, flicking more ash to the ground. “I mean, how’d you end up pulling a shift? Don’t you normally have Thursday nights off?”
“Raya’s ex flaked on her again. She had no one to look after the kids.” I shrug absent-mindedly, ducking under the awning so I don’t get wet. “She asked me if I’d cover her shift for her. I don’t mind. I need the extra cash. I’ve got bills coming left and right at the moment, and…tell me why I’m explaining this to you again?”
“You look tense. Want me to hook you up with some party favors? I know a dude.”
I set my jaw. “No. Thank you.”
I’m not in the mood for Axel tonight. Yes, I’m tense. I’m tense because I’m tired. Of course I’m tired, exhausted as a matter of fact. I’m dragging a little, that’s for sure. But I have goals, and a plan that needs to be strictly adhered to.
Admittedly, between attending classes throughout the day, studying, and working two jobs—waitressing at Leon’s at night and then delivering newspapers to convenience stores at the crack of dawn four mornings a week—things are starting to take a toll, and yes, most days the gas tank is running on fumes.
But that’s the thing about rent, utilities, and college fees. They don’t just magically pay themselves which means there isn’t a whole lot of spare time left in the day for sleep or other human-like necessities.
Axel chuckles under his breath. He seems satisfied that he’s irked me sufficiently enough. Blowing out a mouthful of cigarette smoke straight in my face, I cough and wave my hand in the air, watching as he slides a nearby milk crate closer to the door with his foot.
He takes a seat, spreading his thighs. “You got ID?”
“I’m twenty-four, Axel.”
He holds out his massive hand, looking at me expectantly. “Just show me the damn thing. It’s policy.”
“Christ,” I grumble, handing him my ID. He barely even glances at the details before tossing the thin plastic card back at me. I catch it against my chest and then stuff it into my back pocket.
Axel gives me an obvious look up and down. “Leon’s going to shit a polecat when he gets a look at what you’re wearing tonight.”
I glance down at my outfit that consists of tan ankle boots, fitted black jeans, and an oversized long-sleeved white blouse with a frilly neckline. I think I look nice. Some of us don’t actually want drunken idiots leering at our boobs all night long.
And besides, ruffles are totally back in fashion right now.
Aren’t they?
Thrusting my hands on my hips, I shoot him an overtly cynical look. “Do you ever do any work?”
“I’m on a break,” he grunts.
“Whatever.” I grab the handle of the back door that’s covered with music flyers and random band stickers. “By the way, a fight just broke out near the front entrance. A couple of bikers, I think. Man, they sure were getting into it. You might want to go check it out before Leon catches wind of what’s going on. ”
Axel swears under his breath, stubbing his cigarette out on the rusty railing. He jumps to his feet, sending the crate flying backwards, and then he’s running full speed toward the front of the building without looking back.
There is no fight. There are no bikers.
“Idiot,” I chuckle over the deep bass as I open the door, making my way down the dimly lit corridor toward the staff room.
Music blares through the speakers, every beat making my bones shake. A thick haze of cigarette smoke lays low over the tables, and while it doesn’t appear to be overly crowded out there just yet, the pool tables at the back of the room are already occupied with groups of rowdy college-aged kids.
There’s a guy sitting on the small stage at the back of the room, tuning a guitar. Thursday night is open-mic night which means things will likely get much busier later on.
Eden glances up at me when I walk into the staffroom. She’s counting out change into different piles according to their denomination, sitting at the lunch table that’s covered with a food-stained tablecloth. There’s an enormous bowl of fake fruit in the middle of the table. It’s old and hideous and belongs to Leon because he thought it would class the place up.
“Hey there, sweetness and light,” she says with a big, genuine smile. “Raya said you’d be covering her shift. You ready for the night of your life?”
Eden’s long platinum-blonde hair touches her waist, with hot-pink strands poking through here and there. Her ears are covered with silver rings that span the entire length of her cartilage, and a tiny emerald stone sparkles in the side of her nose. The woman is an absolute smoke-show, exotic looking in a way I’ll never be.
I smile back at her. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Flopping down into an empty chair on the opposite side of the room, I spin around in slow circles. “Has it been busy?”
“Not really, steady. I don’t expect the rush until later. There’s a game on tonight, once that lets out downtown I reckon we’ll get hit pretty hard.”
Dragging the elastic band out of my long ponytail, I bend at the waist and shake the shit out of my hair, before retying it back up again a little higher on my head. “Is Leon in a good mood tonight?”
She scoffs. “When is Leon ever in a good mood?”
My cell phone suddenly vibrates inside my handbag. I fish it out, glancing down at the screen.
It’s Nick. Jeremy’s brother.
“Hey, sorry, I have to take this.”
“Sure thing, honey.”
Eden returns her attention back to this afternoon’s take, while I head for the single stall restroom that’s attached to the staffroom. I need to pee anyway, so why not kill two birds with one stone.
Swiping my finger across the screen, I press the phone to my ear. “Hey, Nick, how are you?”
“I’m good, kid. You?”
Nick’s warm, familiar voice makes me smile. He sounds so much like Jeremy that it causes a heavy lump to lodge in my throat, and I have to cough a couple of times just to clear it. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asks, trying to keep his tone casual. “You don’t sound all that convinced. ”
Briefly clenching the phone between my teeth, I shimmy my jeans, and underwear, down my thighs, before taking a seat on the toilet, which is surprisingly clean compared to the rest of this place. “No, I’m good, honestly,” I add hastily, the phone back to my ear again. “I’m just really busy, that’s all.”
“Please tell me you’re not still working two jobs.”
I sigh, and when I don’t answer, Nick answers for me.
“You know you don’t have to do that, right? If you need money, I can help you out. And Mom and Dad would happily have you stay with them until—”
“I’m not staying with your parents, Nick. And I don’t need your money. I have my own apartment, and I work hard. Thanks for the offer, but I can do this by myself.”
“Why do you always have to be so goddamn stubborn?”
“Nick, please .”
“Okay, okay, but if at some point, your pride actually allows you to accept some help, I’m here for you, and so are—”
“How are your parents doing?” I cut him off. Because honestly, I can’t bear to hear any more of the poor-pathetic-Cassie speech I’ve come to know by heart over the past few years.
Nick worries about me, he always has. And even more so since Jeremy’s death. He’s Jeremy’s older brother, and when I say older brother, I mean fifteen years older. From what I’ve been told, Jeremy was the ‘surprise package’ his parents never knew they always wanted.
When I first moved to New York with Jeremy there were days when I was so homesick I honestly didn’t think I’d survive. I wanted to pack up and scurry back to Alabama where the lights weren’t so bright or the traffic so heavy. Nick talked me down from the ledge more than once. But I can’t rely on Nick for everything, despite knowing he’d give me anything without complaint. That’s just the kind of guy he is.
But I’m not a taker. And I’m definitely not a user.
I’m also trying desperately not to let him hear me peeing. We’re close, sure, but come on, there’s a line in the sand.
“They’re good, thanks for asking. I just got off the phone with them actually,” he says. “Mom’s still fussing over Dad, and Dad’s still pretending like nothing’s wrong. What the hell is that noise? Are you pissing right now? Please tell me you’re not pissing right now.”
Oops . “What?” I gasp loudly. “No! Of course not.” Because that would be disgusting and something I would never do. “I’m at work, there’s uh…there’s a leak in the pipes, or something. Leon’s got a plumber coming to take a look at it.”
“I don’t know why you stay working in that dump,” he huffs, but he says it sincerely, therefore apparently buying my story. Ha. Look at that. Kudos to me. “Like I said, if you need money, you know where to find me.”
My shoulders slump forward. “I’m fine. I’ve just had a few bills come in at once. I’m working a double shift tonight so that will cover most of it. And then I’m pulling another double on Saturday.”
Nick exhales softly, and I can picture him running his fingers back and forth across his chin. “Anyway, the reason for my call, I wanted to check if you’re still coming to family dinner on Sunday night? Mom’s making roast chicken with all the trimmings. ”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Hey, listen, I gotta go. It’s been a crazy day at the studio, there’s some shit going down with our lead singer, Reed. I’m at the office right now, and I’ve been waiting on an important phone call. Delaney’s secretary just buzzed, and they’re putting me through. Remind me again why I took this job?”
“Because you’re the best band manager in the music industry.”
“Yep, there it is. I’ll see you Sunday night.”
The phone goes dead.
I hear Leon’s heavy footsteps outside in the corridor, his voice gruff and grouchy when he yells at someone to get their feet off the furniture. Loud music spills out, and then cuts off again when he enters the staffroom, slamming the door closed behind him.
Jesus. He really is in a bad mood.
I take care of business, flush the toilet, and then wash my hands at the small sink just inside the bathroom door. Axel’s right. The girl looking back at me in the mirror does look like shit. Admitting that Axel is right about anything doesn’t sit well with me.
The guy is a complete douchebag.
But yep, I’m tired. Really tired, and I look pale.
Sometimes I wish I could just be a normal girl. Just a normal girl in her mid-twenties, a girl allowed some fun occasionally, a girl not tied down by the constant tsunami of grief washing over her, pulling her under, trying to drown her. Sometimes I just really want to be me again. I want to remember what it’s like to feel excitement and passion and butterflies and the giggly sensations that come with all the things I used to feel before .
That’s what my life has become.
Before. And after.
And I’ll admit it, the more time that passes since Jeremy’s death, the more it feels like the before is just a distant memory, and the after is nothing more than smoke and mirrors.
Jeremy would want me to move on, I know he would. He’d want me to be happy, to start living my life again, truly living it out of the shadows, but if I ever attempted to, it would have to be with someone just as sweet and kind, just as down to earth, as he was.
Yeah right. Guys like that don’t exist.
Leon catches my eye as I walk back into the staff room, tying my apron tightly around my waist. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off before he can start in on me with one of his long-winded lectures.
“I know, two-for-one beers, shots by the tray, and let me guess, the house wine is a chardonnay?”
“Impressive,” he says with a smirk. “I like that about you, Cassie. You’ve got an attention to detail that’s severely lacking in other members of our staff.”
“Hey!” Eden protests. “I pay attention!”
Leon totally ignores her, keeping his eyes focused solely in my direction. “But that doesn’t make up for looking like you bought your outfit at a convent yard sale. Would it kill you to show some cleavage occasionally? You’ve got a decent rack, Cassie, I know you do, but it’s always hidden under all that…all that…what is this look?” he glances across to ask Eden .
“Modern chic,” she replies briefly.
“Well, modern chic doesn’t fill tip jars. Why not sell what the good Lord gave you? I’m telling you, Cass, you get the girls out to play once in a while, and whaddya know, you could make enough in tips to pay a month’s worth of rent in one night.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Eden mutters under her breath.
“I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt for her to wear something more revealing occasionally,” he replies to Eden. “Show off a little skin. Like you, all tits and no class.”
Eden’s nose crinkles as she tosses a bundle of twenties down hard on the table. “I swear to Christ, Leon, you’re a sexual harassment lawsuit just waiting to happen. You know that, right?”
Leon isn’t the slightest bit fazed. “And guys dig messy bed hair, not cutesy ponytails. Lose the ponytail.”
Snapping me out of my shocked and somewhat stunned silence, I ask, “What the hell is bed hair?”
“You know, bed hair…like you’ve been rolling around in the sack for a couple of hours, all hot and sweaty. And then you rock straight up to work once you’re done. No fixing yourself up. No shower. You know what I mean?”
I make a disgusted face. “UTI, anyone?”
“It’s a proven fact, Cassie. Listen to me, you think I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I do. Men spend more money if they’re slightly aroused. I read it about once in a magazine. It’s biology. Basic science is what it is.”
“Bullshit is what it is,” I admonish sharply. “You’re a misogynistic, not to mention chauvinistic, asshole, Leon. Don’t speak to me like that ever again.”
Eden starts slow clapping, and Leon spins around to glare at her. “You got something you want to add to this conversation, sugar?”
“Firstly…” Eden points all four fingers at him, gearing up for something big. “I am not your sugar, nor am I any other creepy pet name you might come up with. You’re a pig, Leon, a pig who’s responsible for the breakup of at least four marriages that I know of.”
Leon grins. He actually looks proud of himself.
“And second,” Eden continues, on somewhat of a roll now. “If you want us to dress a certain way, then you should provide us all with uniforms, like, I don’t know, a legit business owner who’s running a reputable establishment might do. Oh, wait.”
“Are you on your goddamn period or something, because—”
I don’t hang around for what happens next. Eden and Leon in the same room, hurricanes would cause less damage. The guy doesn’t know when enough is enough. His inappropriateness is like waving a red flag in front of a bull for Eden. And Eden has a fiery temper like no one I’ve ever met before.
Hurrying toward the door, I catch sight of Axel lingering around the back entrance when I spill out into the corridor. When he sees me, he begins to silently mouth every cuss word known to man while flipping me off with fingers from both hands.
I blow him a quick kiss before making my way out into the main bar where Hazel greets me with a smile when I slip in behind the register.
Hazel is strikingly beautiful with chestnut brown hair, golden skin, and flawlessly placed makeup that makes her appear like she’s just stepped straight out of a Maybelline commercial.
Maybe she’s born with it? I didn’t think so, but who am I to judge?
Hazel is sexy in ways I’ll never be.
“So, the guys from Cold Neptune are in tonight,” she says absentmindedly, while ringing up an order. She’s wearing a floral midriff-top that falls off one shoulder when she leans forward to hand the guy in front of her his change. She doesn’t bother fixing it. The guy stares back at her for a few seconds, licks his lips, and then tosses a twenty in the tip jar.
Hazel winks at him. And then smiles at me.
Well, well . Look at that. Leon might actually be onto something.
Jesus, that’s a terrifying thought.
A suit at the other end of the bar holds up one finger, indicating he wants a beer, and Hazel grabs an icy-cold bottle from the chest beneath the counter, popping the cap, before sliding it down the entire length of the bar without spilling a single drop. The guy at the other end catches it smoothly with a surprised but endearing smile. He gestures for her to put it on his tab.
“No worries, babe,” she calls back to him. She jots a few numbers down on a notepad and then leans in closer to me. “So, yeah, like I was saying, the band is in tonight. The lead singer isn’t with them, but the rest of the guys have been here for a while. They look deep in discussion about something, something important, so give them some privacy. You know the drill.”
“Yep, sure thing,” I say, leaning around her to get a quick look at the three muscular guys in various shades of artfully aged black clothing who are sitting together in a booth over by the far wall.
“Watch that bass player, though. He’s trouble if he drinks too much. And if Jaxon kicks the cigarette machine again, I swear I’ll kick his fucking ass. I’m sick to death of having to get someone in to fix the damn thing. Be a sweetheart, and cover the front bar for me, will you?”
“I’m on it.”
Jumping straight to work, I start filling orders. It’s not overly busy just yet, but Hazel’s been running the entire bar by herself, and the orders are starting to back up.
Grabbing a bottle of tequila, I pour a double shot, handing it over to a customer sitting a few stools down, his eyes fixed firmly on the huge flat-screen TV behind me. The game plays on, the somebodies playing the somebodies. I don’t care enough about sports to figure it out. A roar erupts, and then the guy thumps his fist down against the bar, tossing back his shot so hard and fast it makes his eyes water.
I can only assume he’s pleased with whatever just happened on the screen. Like I said, sports aren’t really my thing.
Then I fill a cocktail shaker with all the ingredients for a whiskey sour, shaking it until my arm aches. As I’m pouring it into a rocks glass, my eyes coast back toward the booth where the band is huddled together, all three of them nursing frosty bottles of beer in their hands.
Jaxon, the drummer, is wearing his usual black jeans and a faded black sweater, resting his elbows on the table in front of him. He’s obviously the oldest of them all, his beard long and coarse, dappled with silver, totally giving him MC vibes. He’s covered in tattoos, and just like the rest of the guys, his muscles stretch nicely beneath his clothes.
Kael, the aforementioned bass player, has as much stubble on his chin as he does on the top of his shaved head. He has a deep dimple in the center of his left cheek, and a chiseled face that makes him look like he’s stepped right off the cover of a Sports Illustrated magazine.
Like Hazel said earlier, the lead singer, Reed Devlin, isn’t with them tonight. But you’d have to be living under a rock not to know who he is. His dirty blond hair and piercing blue eyes are plastered on every billboard and newspaper stand across the city lately.
Sliding the glass across to my waiting customer, I find myself sneaking a peek at the opposite side of the booth.
And that’s my first mistake of the evening.
Because Quinn Tanner, the electric guitarist, yep, my gaze locks on him like a missile. I should look away, I know better than to stare, but holy cow the guy is so ridiculously attractive it makes my mouth dry. Beautiful in the manliest way possible, with rugged features and dark soulful eyes, his neatly trimmed beard hides the bottom half of his face, and his hair is a thick mound of black curls, messy and wild, like he’s constantly running his fingers through it.
I wonder if his hair feels as soft as it looks.
Something deep inside me tightens as I stare at his handsome profile. A rush of giddy dizziness washes over me. Everything pauses, except for the pounding in my ears, and in other places too, and oh my god what the hell am I doing?
I definitely should not be reacting like this.
But I can’t deny the obvious.
Quinn Tanner is desirable in much the same way as the sun is to the sky. Burning hot. Intense. And so far out of my reach, it’s not even funny.
He’s been in here plenty of times over the years, but he’s not like the other band members. He doesn’t strut around with the same I’m-famous-so-look-at-me smirks, and he doesn’t go home with a different girl on his arm every night. Unlike Kael or Jaxon, who only have to snap their fingers and an eager groupie materializes at their sides, ready, willing, and able.
I’ve never seen Quinn disappear into a dark corner for a blow job or to the restrooms for a quickie.
Kael and Jaxon, guilty of both.
I don’t know what it is, but there’s just something different in the way Quinn carries himself. He gives off an intelligent, down-to-earth vibe that makes me think there’s something more to him than just his music and his good looks. It makes me think there are veiled depths to him that he doesn’t want the rest of the world to see.
Maybe I’m just imagining things, or maybe…
“You’re staring again,” says Hazel, bumping my hip with hers. She laughs in a teasing manner and then goes back to her side of the bar with a lingering grin on her face.
Oh. My. God.
How fucking embarrassing.
I just got caught staring at Quinn Tanner.
Heat instantly rises to my cheeks, making me blush. I know Hazel has caught me salivating over Quinn on more than one occasion in the past, but until now, she’s never actually called me out on it. This makes me wonder if she suspects I have a teeny-tiny crush on the guy. Which, of course, I don’t. Because that would be crazy. Insane. Ridiculous. Stupid. Outlandish. I can’t think of any other adjectives right now, but you see where I’m going with this.
And I have the hide to call myself a marketing major. I should be ashamed of myself.
I close my eyes tightly, fighting the intense feelings of guilt clawing their way up my chest. A strange new ache. I shouldn’t be attracted to another man. Definitely not. Especially not a rock star.
No. I’m fine and dandy just the way I am.
Single. Unattached. Flying solo.
But when I open my eyes again, I stupidly glance back in the direction of their booth, and that’s when everything around me loses focus because Quinn Tanner is staring straight back at me.
My heart stops.
It literally stops beating.
Everything about him makes me feel off balance, from his tousled dark hair, to his intense eyes, to his thick forearms that I just want to reach out and touch.
Touch? Really, Cassie? Get a grip.
Quinn smiles softly, and just like that, my pulse kicks back in again. God, he’s got a sexy smile. Slightly crooked, with perfectly white teeth, and every time he flashes it, his eyes twinkle playfully .
I look away instantly, wiping down the bar with a damp cloth.
“Coors Light!” someone calls a little farther along the bar.
Thank goodness for that. A welcome distraction.
“Coming right up,” I call back, focusing on the job at hand.
Yep, much safer that way.