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“It’s just an audition,” Presley murmured. “Four songs and we go home.”
“They’re putting us up in the Carlton,” Alex said. “It’s right in Midtown, near everything. They wouldn’t do that unless they were serious.” He shook his head. “Come on, don’t you want this to work.”
Cassie caught Presley’s gaze and smiled softly at him. “He’s making it work,” she pointed out. “He’s been working all the hours he can to get ahead on the construction work. And he’s gotten his mom to look after Delilah.”
“Yeah, well we’ve all made sacrifices,” Alex said, rolling his eyes. “I was supposed to go on a first date that weekend.”
Marley coughed out a laugh. “Your sacrifice is appreciated, man,” he said, patting Alex’s arm. Then he turned to look at Cassie and Presley. “How long after we sign do we have to wait before we replace this goon?” he asked them. “Bass players are a dime a dozen in New York, right?”
Alex blinked. “You can’t replace me.”
“Bassists get replaced all the time,” Marley told him.
“Yeah, but if we get signed, that’s our names on the contract.” He looked unsettled. “Right?”
“Sure.” Marley nodded, looking amused. “Whatever you say, man.”
“Can we get on with this?” Presley asked. He’d been edgy all night. Cassie knew it was because he was exhausted. Trying to run a business, take care of his daughter, and keep everybody else happy was taking its toll on him.
She’d had to nag him to go to bed most nights this week when he called her. Told him that paperwork could wait unless it was invoices he was waiting on being paid.
But she was determined to make this up to him. She knew he was doing it for her. Not just her, but Marley too. She’d learned that Presley loved quietly but hard. He was a brick wall of emotions. They were all there, keeping him steady, but you only got to see them if he let you come close.
“Okay, let’s go with our first song,” Marley said, standing up and walking over to the drum set. He settled himself behind it while Presley lifted his guitar strap over his head, and Alex did the same.
Cassie stood behind the keyboard, her eyes still on the only man she wanted to look at. He glanced over at her and smiled when he realized she was watching him.
When they got to New York this man was getting all the blow jobs. And apart from the audition, she wasn’t going to let him lift a damn finger. If he was working his ass off to make the rest of them happy, then she was going to show him how much he was appreciated.
With her hands. Her lips. Her body. And yeah, she’d probably let him occasionally come out into the sunlight and breathe in some fume-filled Manhattan air.
Marley beat them in, and Presley started to strum, his soft, thick voice filling the room.
And as the rest of them joined in, she felt a little shiver down her spine, because they were playing well. Really well.
Somewhere along the line this had gone from a little bit of fun to something serious. Possibly permanent. And yeah, she was talking about the band, but she knew it was more than that.
He was more than that.
She was in love with Presley Hartson. With the lead singer of the band she was playing in. It was so damn predictable she should have seen it coming from the start. But all she knew was she didn’t want it to end.
She’d do anything for this man. Even give up her dreams.
Again.
“You okay?” Pres asked Cassie as they sat outside her house in his car after rehearsals. She’d been quiet all evening. Like she was lost in her thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She smiled at him. “Sorry, I know you have to get home. We’re wasting time here.”
“We’re not wasting anything.”
“Don’t you want to make out?” she asked him. Because that’s what they did most nights when he followed her home after rehearsals. He’d park behind her car in the driveway and they’d kiss – and touch – until they were hot and needy.
One time he’d gone inside with her, but that had been even worse, because once they were in her house he wanted to stay all night with her. But he had to get home to his kid.
So they made out in his car instead. Until one of them pulled away and told the other to go home.
“I’m not here because I want to make out with you,” he said, his lip quirking. “I’m here because I like being with you.”
