Can’t Help Falling in Love (Willow Shade Island #4)

Chapter 1

Cricket Jenkins

Micah and I are sitting on the couch in my basement, watching Pride and Prejudice because it was my turn to pick the movie and because Micah didn’t appreciate it enough the first time I made him watch it. It’s the Keira Knightley version because it’s the best, and no one can say otherwise.

Micah’s knee bounces as Mr. Darcy helps Elizabeth into the carriage, and he totally misses the hand flex because he’s staring off into space.

I pause the movie and turn to him, frustrated. “All right, spill it.”

He glares at me. “Spill what?”

“You know what. You’ve been acting fidgety and weird ever since that text you got at dinner. What is it? Are you being sued?”

He screws up his face like I suggested he take a naked stroll downtown. “Gosh, Jiminy, that’s what you jump to? Do you think I go around doing things that would get me sued?”

“Then tell me. Who texted you?”

As he grumpily fiddles with his phone, another thought jumps into my head, and I freeze.

Is it a woman? Does he have another crush besides Kiki’s sister, Kiera?

My insides twist as I wait for him to confess he’s once again in love with some woman I can’t compete with.

He always goes for the beautiful brunettes.

Someone he will moon over and pine for while I stab my eyeballs with a fork.

I thought he was still all about Kiera, but maybe he’s moved on since she doesn’t seem to be into him.

He sighs and slides his phone over to me. “Just read it.”

I look at his screen. It’s a text.

Hello, we came across your music on YouTube. We’re a small indie label based out of Seattle and would love to talk. Let us know if you’re interested. Midnight Velocity has serious potential.

I scream and hit the couch cushion with my hand. “Micah, that’s amazing! Why are you so moody about it? This is great.”

“No, it’s not great,” Micah says, grabbing his phone back. “Don’t you see? This means my identity was leaked. Somehow they found me, and that means other people can find me.”

I’m confused. “So what? Don’t you want to be a musician? Isn’t a record label contract your dream come true?”

“I looked them up. They’re tiny. They don’t have any big singers, only no-names.” He shakes his head. “I’d be a fool to sign with them.”

“That’s an excuse, and you know it. You could use their interest as leverage to get a bigger label. Your videos are hot. I’ve been telling you to reach out to someone. Take a chance.”

Micah shakes his head again. “Can’t I just keep doing what I have been? What’s wrong with singing on YouTube?”

I twist my hands together. “Nothing’s wrong with it.”

He gives me a flat look. “But?”

I shift on the couch and pick at a thread. “It’s just… are you sure you’re not letting your anxiety make this decision?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

He rolls his eyes. “Act like my therapist.”

Ouch. That hurts. “Then get a real therapist.”

“Stop it. I don’t need one. I can handle it.”

“Right. And that’s why you’re going to give up this amazing opportunity.”

He huffs. “I made two thousand dollars last month. My last video hit a hundred thousand views in forty-eight hours. I don’t think I need some no-name label.”

“Then let me contact some bigger labels,” I blurt out.

“You?” He sits up. “Why would you contact them?”

I rub my thumb against my palm in a lame attempt to calm my racing heart.

I’ve thought a lot about this, but this isn’t the way I wanted to start the conversation.

I’d mostly just daydreamed about how I could stay close to Micah even after he gets super famous and becomes the singer-songwriter he’s meant to be.

I know it will happen. It’s only a matter of when.

“I could… act like your manager.”

He squints at me. “Manager?”

“You know, negotiate contracts and take care of the business end of things while you write the songs and produce the music.”

“I know what a manager does. But why would you want to do that?”

I bite my lip. Yeah, stupid of me to want to be near Micah.

I’ve just been in love with him for years.

And he doesn’t even think of me as a woman.

I shouldn’t want to. I should go get a real boyfriend.

Someone who adores me and treats me like Mr. Darcy treats…

Well, maybe not someone who thinks I’m barely tolerable.

But Mr. Darcy adores Elizabeth by the end of the book. Someone like that.

I shake my head to snap myself out of my thoughts. “You need a manager. You’re only going to grow in popularity, and I know you’re nervous about negotiating contracts.”

He grabs a throw pillow and hugs it to his chest. “That’s not what I’m nervous about.”

I already know what his issues are. “I could deal with all the people for you,” I say quietly. “Then all you’d have to do is perform.”

He gives me a side-eye. “You’d do all the people things?”

I’m an introverted book nerd, but I can force myself to talk to people. Especially if it means I get to stay near Micah. “Yeah. I’d do all the people things.”

“Then I’m fine with you being my manager.” He slides his phone to me. “First, find out how these guys found me.”

“Okay. Do you care if I ask to see a contract?”

“I don’t care about that. I want to know how they found out my name and phone number first. Then you can find out contract terms. And do that thing where you contact bigger labels and stuff.”

I press my lips together to hide a smile. Micah does want to be a rock star. I knew it. “All right. I’ll do all that.”

“Okay then. You’re hired.”

“Good. How much will you pay me?”

He glares at me. “Wait, was this all a ploy to get at my money?”

“Yes,” I deadpan. “You’re going to be worth millions, and I want my share.”

He lets out a bark of a laugh. “Oh, you’re funny.”

I grin at him. “I am.”

He pokes me in the side, making me squirm away from him. “Don’t forget,” he says, “I know where you’re the most ticklish.”

My mouth drops open. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He peers at me through a strand of his long hair that has fallen into his face. “I totally would.”

For a split second, I think he’s joking, but then he pounces, and I scream. He straddles me, his fingers flying over my ribs and stomach. It tickles so much I can’t help the giggles that come out.

“You won’t get my millions!” he says, still poking my ribs.

“Stop!” I say between fits of laughter. I fight him, but he’s too strong, and he prevails.

“Say you’ll stay away from my millions.” His voice is high-pitched, and I know he thinks it’s hilarious that he could someday be a big-shot musician. I don’t think he knows how good he is.

I can hardly get a word out through my chuckling. “Uncle,” I finally manage to say, and Micah stops. I grab his hands as I try to catch my breath. A shock of awareness races through my veins as I hold his hands still. Touching him is like holding a live wire. Electric. Dangerous.

I swallow. “You’re so mean,” I say to distract myself from the softness of his skin and this feeling of being so close to him.

He grins down at me. “You’re so cute when you’re begging for mercy.”

I look at his signature Barrett-brother dimple, and all the air rushes from my lungs.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think. My heart thumps in my chest as I stare at Micah.

How can he not feel this? How can he practically sit on my lap, holding my hands, and not feel anything?

It hurts. Not physically. It hurts me deep inside.

“Get off me,” I say quietly.

He threads his fingers through mine. “I don’t know. I think I have the advantage here.”

His smile… his touch. It all pains me deeply because I know he doesn’t feel the same about me.

“Get off,” I say more forcefully.

He lets go of my hands and jumps up. “What’s wrong? Was I hurting you?”

“Yes,” I mumble, knowing but not caring he will take it the wrong way.

“Geesh, I’m sorry, Cricket. I didn’t mean to.” He runs a hand over his hair, and it falls back into his face.

“It’s okay,” I say, grabbing the remote. I press play on the movie then hit rewind. “You missed the good part. Pay attention.”

He plops down next to me. “All right, all right. Don’t get feisty. I’ll watch your romantic crap.”

I whack his leg for calling my favorite movie crap, but I’m not really mad. This is what we do. I fool myself into thinking he’ll like my swoony romance movies, and he pretends to hate them.

I sigh and stare at the television, not seeing Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth anymore. My pulse races as I sit next to Micah, my nerve endings still on high alert from his touch.

I really need to find another guy. I inwardly groan. Why did I tell Micah I’d be his manager? I need to get a life.