Boy #1: The Wannabe Rockstar (Oh, Those Boys) Read online

  Awwww, such a sweet man. When was the last time someone had been sweet to her? Cassie couldn't even remember. She melted a little bit at his words, and she gave him a shy smile.

  “I don't feel obligated,” she assured him. “And I'd love to go to dinner with you.”

  A grin spread across his face, and he suddenly looked boyish. Much younger than thirty-two.

  “Great. Saturday, okay? I can pick you up, or we can meet somewhere. I'll get reservations.”

  “Sounds good. But I feel like I should tell you something. And this may totally be jumping the gun, which if so, then you can back out of this dinner guilt free,” Cassie chuckled. “You'll be getting a peek at what an overthinking, neurotic person I actually am.”

  “I don't believe any of that for a second, but shoot.”

  “I'm not really interested in dating anyone right now,” she said bluntly. “I'm focusing on my career. But I am ... seeing other people. I hope that's okay with you, but I'll understand if it's not.”

  There. She'd done it. One boy down. One more to go.

  And her heart melted even further when Josh's smile only got bigger.

  “You're a sweet girl, aren't you, Cass?” he sighed, and she was surprised when he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “I think you'll learn very quickly I'm anything but that,” she assured him.

  “It's just dinner. Not a marriage proposal,” he teased. “And if it's a good dinner, maybe it'll lead to other dinners, or even cheesier things. Like paddle boats in the park.”

  “Oh, Ferris wheel rides!” she clapped her hands together, trying not to laugh.

  “Amateur – I'm thinking more like horse and carriage rides.”

  “Be still my beating heart,” Cassie pretended to swoon.

  “Just two people hanging out, doing fun stuff, getting to know each other. I'm not asking for anything else. At least not yet,” he promised her, and she smiled back at him.

  “Thank you. I'm really looking forward to dinner, Josh.”

  “Me, too, Cass.”

  What a day.

  He left her alone while she sorted through charger plates and saucers and eight million different sizes of forks, and Cassie couldn't wipe the grin from her face. It had been a long time since a man had made her feel giddy. She bounced around while she worked, losing count more than a couple times.

  An hour later, she'd discovered that they'd doubled her order of salad plates, and zeroed her order of tea cups – the tea cups that had been particularly requested by the birthday girl, they were absolutely necessary. Cass wasn't even mad, though; she couldn't be.

  She hummed to herself as she walked back to her car, shooting off an email to her assistant to have the issue corrected. Then she dropped into her car and turned the key, ready to finish the rest of her day. Her car, though, had other ideas.

  It refused to start.

  “What the ...” she mumbled, turning the key again and again. There was only the tell tale clicking sound, and when she looked around her dash, she realized she'd somehow left her lights on in high beam the whole time. She pounded her hands on her wheel. “Fuck!”

  “Problems?”

  Cassie screamed when she heard a voice right next to her window. When she turned to look, Micah was laughing at her.

  “You're such a dick!” she snarled when she opened her door. “Why can't you ever be a normal human being!?”

  “Because that would be boring. Dead battery?” he asked. She nodded and got out to stand next to him.

  “Very much so.”

  “A chick like you must have triple-A,” he teased.

  She smirked, then pulled out her phone and quickly called for roadside assistance. She was, in fact, covered for just this type of situation. But her face quickly fell when they told her how long it would be before a car could come to assist her.

  “Three hours,” she moaned when she hung up the phone. “Maybe I could just ask someone here if they have any cables.”

  “Or you could actually get what you pay for from triple-A,” Micah suggested. “And just call a taxi, or take the bus.”

  She scrunched up her nose.

  “I don't think I've ever taken the bus.”

  “Snob. You could also walk.”

  “It must be miles! Have you seen my shoes?”

  Micah laughed again, then he was walking away, tugging on her coat sleeve as he went.

  “C'mon, Princess, let's put those feet to use.”

  After locking up her car, Cassie hurried behind him. She called her office and told them the situation, and was assured that she wasn't needed back in for the rest of the day. Then she called triple-A back and instead of waiting around for three hours, she made an appointment to meet them in the morning.

  When she finally got off the phone, she realized Micah was almost a block ahead of her. She had to run to catch up.

  “Seriously,” she panted, grabbing onto his arm. “I really am in heels, and I'm not even sure how to find my way home from here. If you ditch me, I will murder you.”

  “How do you wear those things all day every day?” Micah asked, and they both glanced down at her stylish ankle boots. She shrugged.

  “I like how they look, and most of the time, I'm sitting down. Not running a marathon across the city. Can we slow down, please?”

  “I thought you liked to jog.”

  “Yes, in my jogging shoes, not my – hey, how did you know that?” she asked, a little surprised. She normally ran every week day morning, around six. She was pretty sure Micah Gannis hadn't seen six o'clock in a very long time.

  “I've seen you,” he shrugged his shoulders. “When I come home in the morning from a late gig or whatever.”

  “Lies. You spy on me,” she teased.

  “Please. So did you and bro-jock have a nice time last night?” Micah asked, switching gears so fast, Cassie couldn't keep up.

  “Huh?”

  “You weren't home,” he pointed out, glancing down at her. “I figured your dinner date must have gone really well.”

  She was stunned. Micah had gone looking for her. Micah was curious about her date. Micah really was jealous.

  “I did have dinner with a gorgeous date, and it went extremely well,” Cassie bragged, thinking about the pizza she and Natalie had shared. “It was with a drop dead sexy brunette, had a body like you wouldn't believe.”

  Micah's eyebrows drew together.

  “Frat douche back there is blond,” he pointed out. She feigned surprise.

  “Oh! I'm sorry! Did you think you two were the only people in this entire city interested in me?”

  “Hey, I'm only interested in certain parts of your anatomy.”

  “Really? Because you're asking a lot of questions about things that have nothing to do with those parts.”

  That shut Micah up. He pulled out his cigarettes, quickly clenching one between his lips while he searched for his lighter. She frowned, then pulled him to a stop. He glanced down at her, then glared when she pulled the cancer stick away.

  “What do you think -”

  “These will kill you. Besides, you're much sexier when you're not smoking,” she assured him. He smirked at her.

  “You think I'm sexy, St. John?”

  She nodded without hesitation.

  “Very much so. Mostly when your mouth isn't open,” she said, and she was glad when he barked out a laugh. “I spent the night at my friend Natalie's.”

  “Ah. Sexy brunette, I get it.”

  “You're adorable when you're jealous, Micah,” she teased him. He rolled his eyes.

  “Not jealous,” he assured her. “Morbidly curious. I wanna show you something, I think it's near here. C'mon.”

  Cassie was stunned into silence when he grabbed her hand. Held onto it while he pulled her down the street. She stayed quiet during the quick walk, wondering what was going on. Were they actually holding hands? Like some cute couple out on a date? It was absurd – she was
wearing heels and a dress and makeup and an expensive, oversized, designer Vince trench coat.

  Micah was wearing jeans and a tatty black denim jacket, an open hoodie, and a t-shirt with cigarette burns it, his soft guitar case thumping against his back. They would be the most awkward looking couple ever.

  Why are you even picturing it? You don't date anymore! Stop this!

  They zigzagged down alley ways, going into a seedier part of town. Cass found herself hugging close to his side, clenching her fingers around his as she tried not to look at the creepy people around them. Micah just laughed at her and squeezed her hand.

  “What is this?” she asked when they finally came up to a chain link fence. “Are you taking me to do meth? I'm good, thanks.”

  “Meth? Are you kidding? I would never give you meth on a first date,” he joked. “That's definitely a third or fourth date drug.”

  Date? Are we on a date?

  Before she could ask about his word choice, they came to a break in the fence. Micah held the chain links apart enough for Cassie to slip through, and when she was on the other side, he followed behind her. Took her hand again and dragged her up to a large, abandoned, stone church. A cathedral, really.

  “This cannot be safe,” she hissed as they hurried around to the back. “There's probably crack addicts fucking in there.”

  “Nah, they're all out trying to score crack right now. I used to go to this church,” he told her, and she was stunned into silence once again. She gaped at him as he fiddled with a piece of plywood that was over a door. It eventually wiggled loose, swinging on only one nail, and they were able to walk inside.

  “You actually go to church? I thought that was a lie for the Brook chick,” she whispered, molding herself to his back as they moved through a dark hall.

  “Brooklyn,” he corrected her. She glared and swatted as his shoulder.

  “Brookie.”

  “I grew up not far from here, my mom is Irish Catholic,” Micah explained. Ah. Cassie really shouldn't have been surprised, he had an ornate rosary tattooed down one side of his ribs. “We'd come to this church every Sunday, rain or shine. I was an altar boy for two years. They closed it down about three or so years ago. Some groups tried raising money to restore it, but it always fell through. Now it just sits here.”

  They came into the main chapel, and she could see scaffolding all along one wall. Painters plastic was taped over the windows. That seemed to be as far as they'd gotten, though, before giving up.

  The pews were scattered about, and it was obvious quite a few of them were missing. There were also some discarded blankets, some clothing, and Cass worried that there really were drug addicts loitering about the church. She grabbed back onto Micah's hand.

  He didn't lead her further into the chapel, though. He took her to a door on their right, and it led to a steep set of stairs. They climbed up what had to have been a bell tower once upon a time, but it had long since been converted. When Cassie got to the top, she gasped and brought her hands to her mouth.

  “Oh, Micah ... this is ... beautiful,” she whispered.

  The tower was squared, and on three sides had ornate stained glass windows from floor to ceiling. On the fourth side, there was a huge clock face. It didn't work anymore, of course, but it still looked impressive. She bent over, examining the rusted gears, wondering if it could be made to run again.

  “Isn't it?” he sighed from behind her. “I like to come here sometimes, just to think. Write lyrics, music. Won't be able to for much longer – it's getting sketchier and sketchier downstairs. Cops don't clear it out enough. And eventually they'll tear this place down, I'm sure.”

  She frowned and turned around to face him.

  “I'm sorry.”

  “Why?” he shrugged, staring up at one of the windows. “It's just an old building.”

  “Yeah, but it's your building. I get it.”

  “Do you?”

  His eyes cut to her, and he was being very serious. Cassie tried to think if she'd ever seen him be serious before, and couldn't recall. She swallowed thickly and nodded her head.

  “My grandmother had an old farmhouse, in Connecticut, that I'd stay at in the summers,” she spoke softly, and she started slowly moving around the space, trailing her hand along the high banister. “It had a barn. One of those stereotypical red ones, just like on TV. I loved it, and my grandpa converted the hayloft into a play place for me. My own little private get away every time we visited. When I got older, I would sleep out there. Lost my virginity to Buddy Macatee up there. But they sold the house while I was in college. Didn't tell me. The new owners tore down the barn. I didn't even get to say goodbye.”

  By the time she'd finished telling her story, she'd completed her circuit of the room and was back behind the clock. Standing in front of him. Micah stared down at her.

  “You're ...” he spoke on a long breath. “You're so different from how I thought you'd be.”

  She managed a smile for him.

  “That's because you're a very judgemental person, Micah Gannis. We're more alike than you think.”

  He leaned down and kissed her, then. Didn't touch her anywhere else, just her lips. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets. One of her hands was on a cog of the clock, the other was hanging loosely at her side.

  And they just kissed.

  “What was that for?” she whispered when he pulled away – they'd never kissed outside of their building. Micah thought for a second, then finally smiled back at her.

  “Because you're beautiful.”

  He kissed her again, and Cassie assumed it was just supposed to be another chaste pressing of the lips. Something to reassure her that he really meant what he said. But then she moved her hand from the cog. Pressed it against his chest. Her touch seemed to break some sort of barrier, and his hands came out of his pockets. Dropped his guitar case to the ground before rubbing over her hips before pulling her close to him.

  She suddenly found her back against a beam, with Micah pressed against her front. His tongue was in her mouth, and it was like the last time they'd kissed at her place, when they'd been in her bathroom. She moaned against his lips, wishing the moment would never end.

  It was ridiculous – they were in a church, for god's sake. In the middle of the day. They'd never so much as looked longingly at each other outside of their own building. Sex was something that happened randomly, usually at the end of the day or in the middle of the night.

  But when Micah's hands pulled at the skirt of her dress, yanking it up enough so he could dive underneath, she didn't resist. She didn't stop him as he pulled her underwear down and away from her feet, and she didn't say a peep when his fingers started undoing the buttons at the top of her dress.

  “God, the things you do to me,” he groaned, dropping his head to kiss the swell of her breasts above her bra. Her belt prevented him from unbuttoning her dress any further, and she supposed it was for the best. She would've gone up in flames long before he finished the job.

  “You have no idea,” she panted, pulling his pants apart before shoving her hand down his briefs. They both groaned as she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock. “No idea the way you make me feel.”

  They were moving like a freight train now, a speed she was more accustomed to with them. He was pushing her to the side so she could somewhat sit on the railing behind her, and she shoved at his pants, getting them far enough down his hips to free his erection. Then he had her leg pinned up against his hip, and she cried out as his hard length slid inside her.

  His thrusts weren't as frantic as usual, though. He moved slowly, but with purpose. Forceful drives inside her, each one making her moan softly. She kept one arm locked around his shoulders, holding him close, while her other hand clawed at his chest, his back, his hair.

  When his thrusts started picking up speed, she pumped back against him. Fisted his t-shirt in her hand, giving her leverage, and she began panting and crying in time to their hips
. She felt one of his hands on her thigh, nails dragging down her sensitive flesh, then past her knee. All the way to her ankle, which he jerked on, forcing her knee to bend more and her leg to lift higher.

  “All of you,” he panted. “I want to feel all of you.”

  “You do,” she promised, licking her lips. “You have.”

  “Look at me.”

  When Cass complied, she was a little stunned at how close his eyes were to her. They were looking bluer than ever, boring straight down into her soul. She whimpered and dropped her head back, but then he grabbed her by the jaw, forcing her to look at him once again.

  “Don't stop,” he urged. “Don't stop looking at me. Not ever.”

  It had already been hot in the building, but as their bodies moved harder and faster and climbed towards that inevitable edge, the space turned sweltering. She could see sweat running down the side of his face, felt it along her own hairline. Felt it beading and running between her breasts. Her thighs became slick with it, allowing him to move even faster.

  “Micah,” she whispered, her body starting to tremble all over. “Micah, please.”

  “Please, please, please,” he teased, and he finally dropped his gaze. Pressed his forehead to hers. “When you beg so pretty, Cass, I want to give you anything you want.”

  Anything? Really anything? Security and love and self-confidence and assurance that it will only ever be me?

  When he kissed her again, it lit up her orgasm like a fuse. Her whole body locked around him like a vice as she came. She bit into his shoulder, trying to quiet her sobs, while he continued thrusting away. Then he was shouting, and his arms were coiling tightly around her while he came, too. They were a tangle of limbs, completely wrapped around each other, to the point it was hard to tell where he ended and she began. She pressed her face to his chest and tried to catch her breath.

  When the bulk of their orgasms had subsided, Micah chuckled and slowly pulled away from her. Helped her to stand on her feet, then outright laughed when she stumbled. He put his arm back around her, hugging her close for a second, helping her find her center. Kissing at the damp skin along her forehead.