Page 7 of Entranced By the Nakken (Freedom, Love, Monsters #4)
Casey
“You’ve got to try these fucking taco pillows, bro,” Sophie called from the kitchenette in her one-bedroom apartment.
Casey relaxed on the couch with his bass and met her gaze through the serving hatch. “Taco pillows? Say fucking less.”
His phone buzzed, and he got an irrational rush of dopamine as though his crush’s name might pop up, which was ridiculous because he typically skipped the crush phase in favor of casual sex.
Also, Tsunis didn’t have a phone, otherwise Casey was sure they’d have given him their number by now after a full week of “lessons.” Not to mention, their distinct lack of clothing and any technology other than a fucking gorgeous violin that appeared out of thin water but seemed to be made of bone or some shit.
It was a notification from a job board. Casey scrunched his nose and silenced the damn thing.
“Hey, play that again. The dah-dah, dah-dah-dah,” called Anna, tapping her sticks together. The sisters were practically identical, but Anna was smaller and kept her natural blond hair closely shaven to her scalp. The used Pearl drum set swallowed her whole but couldn’t drown out her personality.
Casey’d had plenty of practice obeying musical demands lately.
Fuck, could he go five minutes without thinking of Tsunis?
Whatever was going down on that bank, it was unlike anything he’d experienced.
Odd, considering nothing had happened. At all.
Yet, some-fucking-how, not only did he sense a connection with Tsunis, but he was more connected to himself, more in tune with his intuition.
Ironic, considering the total lack of instruction during the so-called tutoring sessions.
A few beats in, Sophie joined them, adding a counter-rhythm with her electric Yamaha. It took some time, and a few false starts, but soon that magical thing happened where all three musicians felt the shift, grinning at each other like idiots.
Casey started to sing. This particular song had undergone many metamorphoses since he’d first put pen to paper, and it was leagues from being done. He sang softly at first, feeling it out. On the second chorus, his pitch rose, and Sophie joined in.
The third verse was the newest, the least polished, but they played through it.
Sophie sang along to the chorus again. This time, she stopped playing and doubled down, the lyrics he’d written taking a new shape.
As though they clawed from her diaphragm, she made them hers, down to the raw wobble at the end of the final note.
“Holy tits!” a voice boomed from behind the couch. Casey jumped. He’d forgotten Sophie’s boyfriend was home.
Noah was propped against the wall, an intensity vibrating his entire aura. He beelined for Sophie and gripped the back of her neck for a passionate kiss. It was deep and hard, like he knew exactly why those lyrics had brought such emotion out of her.
Damn. Casey imagined Tsunis kissing him like that in front of a crowd.
What would they wear to a gig, anyway? With a body like that, they could pull off anything, but he was curious what kind of style Tsunis went for.
He shamelessly hoped they’d wear something with easy access.
If Tsunis was in the crowd, he’d be a needy slut when he got off stage.
Fuck. Casey tore his gaze from Sophie and Noah. It landed on Anna, who rolled her eyes.
The oven dinged, and Anna popped up. She playful shoved past the tongue-locked couple to tend the snacks, which smelled fucking delicious.
“That’s the song you guys are going to play.” Noah declared, sounding way less breathless than Casey would be after a kiss like that. Fuck, he was breathless from witnessing it.
Anna snorted. “Play for what? Dad’s next wedding?”
“Don’t,” Sophie snapped. “I’m not even going to this one.”
“I found you guys a gig.” Noah sidled past Anna in the tiny kitchen space, nearly knocking her over and sending the plate of triangular puffs onto the carpet. “Shit, sorry, Anna!”
“Whatever,” Anna waved him off. She set the tray on the coffee table in front of Casey and sat on the floor across from him. “Say more.”
“Well,” Noah drawled, taking a moment to revel in having all eyes on him.
He held up a six pack from the fridge in offering.
Casey and Sophie both nodded, while Anna rolled her eyes and all but bared her fucking teeth at the man.
Christ, she’s vicious. “Well. How would you guys like to open for Restless Villainess Revival?”
And he’d lost them. Except for Sophie, but even she looked skeptical. Anna turned all her focus toward blowing off the taco snack. Casey followed her lead.
“No, seriously.” Noah cracked open a beer, handing it to Sophie, then another, which he set in front of Casey. “There’s a competition at The Social Scene in Orlando. Winner gets to open for Restless Villainess Revival. Something else, too, either cash or an EP contract, something like that.”
Anna groaned. “That’s a trap.”
“I don’t know,” Sophie hedged. “Casey’s won competitions before.”
Casey almost choked on the taco pillow, which was a pizza but taco and triangular and every bit as addictive as Sophie had warned.
“Fucking yeah,” Casey coughed out. “Fucking karaoke.”
“Karaoke on the Rocks!” Sophie argued. Oh.
Right. Casey often forgot about that one, since he’d been piss drunk and heartbroken over the loser he’d allowed to infiltrate his life the first year of college.
“Literally the same stage Hendrix and the fuckin’ Beatles, not to mention U2, Judas Priest, Widespread Panic, shit tits! ”
“Impressive,” Anna said through a mouthful.
“Just because some famous people played there and the acoustics are fucking exceptional doesn’t make it a big deal.” Casey winced as he bit into a taco pillow that wasn’t properly cooled off. They didn’t even give him a trophy. Or if they had, he didn’t remember. Might’ve tossed it in a dumpster.
“You guys didn’t hear what I just heard,” Noah said, oddly serious. “That”—he pointed in the general direction of the living room—“was fucking solid. You don’t have to win, you know, there’s bound to be important people in the crowd.”
“A pipe dream,” Anna scoffed.
Sophie leaned over the arm of the couch to snatch a taco pillow, nudging Casey’s shoulder. “Wasn’t it you that said it was time for the world to meet the Red Leather Knights of Miserytown?”
“That name really needs some work.” Casey laughed, and the subject dropped.
An hour or so later, Anna left for her community college class and Noah disappeared into the bedroom.
Casey was dying to pack up and head to the brook, but if he left, he’d be early for their standing two-o’clockish appointment, and he hadn’t had a chance to speak with Sophie alone yet.
Project Befriend-Sophie-And-Make-Her-Feel-Loved was a priority.
“You and Noah are cute together. You’ll make great parents,” Casey mused. He was lounging on the couch, eyes roving over the row of baby pictures hanging on the wall. “Definitely the chill kind.”
“Ha, thanks. That means a lot.” Sophie paused. She reached out to pluck a few strings on her guitar where it leaned on the arm of her recliner. “We’ve been through a lot. Like, a lot. Not sure how we made it.”
“Judging by the way he looks at you, I know fuckin’ how.”
Sophie laughed. She opened her mouth, then shook her head and picked up the guitar. “So, what do you really think about the competition thing?”
A very slick change of subject, Casey noted, but he could play the long game.
Patience was a virtue he actually possessed—unlike chastity or those other bullshit ones.
“It’s not like we lose anything for trying.
” Except maybe some time he could be spending finding a job. “We do sound pretty good together.”
“Thanks to your lyrical genius.”
“No, no, no.” Casey shot up and leaned on his knees, wagging a finger at her. Sophie’s nose scrunched, and she got that look in her eye like she knew something uncomfortable was coming. “Those were not my lyrics.”
“They literally were.” She strummed a chord and averted her gaze.
“Not when you sang them.”
Sophie was quiet for a minute. When she spoke, her focus never left the chords tumbling from her unusually clumsy fingertips.
“Talking about shit makes me shut down sometimes, and writing about it is no better. So, when I try to write songs, they lack the. . . Thing. The thing that makes them good.”
Casey nodded but stayed silent.
“My life with Noah is good now. I’m on speaking terms with my mom, my sister.
I had to cut out a lot of people to get here, and I burned a lot of bridges.
” She laughed, but it was a self-deprecating sound.
“Some of them, I don’t even know if they’re burnt, but I’m too scared to reach out and find out about something I did that I don’t remember.
I’m kind of shocked I was brave enough to speak to you at the store. ”
“Our bridge is fine.” Casey scooted to the end of the couch and put a hand on her shoulder.
“And I’m glad you did because I saw you two aisles before and was too embarrassed to say hi.
Then where would the Leather Knights of Red Miserytown—or fucking whatever our name is— be?
Certainly not about to open for Restless Villainess Revival. ”
Sophie snorted. “With that song of yours, we fucking might. What inspired you, anyway?”
“Um,” Casey stuttered. A mythical water spirit told me they liked my name, which unleashed some repressed memories, which filled my dreams with emotions and fears and hope, which then formed these words like they were lobotomized straight from my fucking gray matter didn’t seem appropriate.
Was there anything he could tell her without talking about Tsunis? Was he allowed to talk about Tsunis? Oh, fuck, if they really played this gig, would Tsunis come and watch the accumulation of their lessons? What the fuck would they wear? Fuck, he hoped they’d wear a skimpy dress.