Page 21 of Howl for Me (Moonlight Magic Studios #1)

Chapter Nineteen

Johnny

The phone won’t stop ringing. I crack one eye open and glance at the clock on my nightstand. Shit. It’s already noon. The ringing dies off, giving me a blessed moment of silence before starting up again.

“Damn it,” I mutter, dragging myself out of bed. My head is foggy, my limbs heavy. I stumble across the room, stub my toe on the edge of a boot, curse louder, and finally answer the phone.

“What?”

Cassidy’s voice comes through sharply. “It’s noon. Why are you just waking up?”

I rub my face and flop into the armchair by the window. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

She goes quiet for half a beat. “You sound like… wait. Were you drinking?” Her tone shifts from annoyed to full-on threatening. “Johnny, so help me God,”

I laugh, low and a little raspy. “Cass, no, I didn’t drink.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I’m on my way.”

“No, wait, I swear I didn’t drink!” I stretch, looking around the mess of the living room. “I did get high, but that’s different.”

She groans through the receiver. “Johnny…”

“I got high with Reggie and Teddy, alright? I was behaving all morning, cleaned up the place a bit, and did a little project. We ended up watching Scooby-Doo for like three hours. For Christ’s sake, I didn’t even leave the house.”

She goes quiet again. I can almost hear her trying to decide whether to believe me.

“I got you a car,” I add.

“...You what? Wait, you actually hung out with someone, hold on, what do you mean you got me a car?”

I grin and lean forward, eyeing the object in question still sitting on the coffee table.

“Well, I was bored as hell, and you mentioned liking blue once, so I built this little model car I had lying around. Not as easy as it looks, by the way. Took me all morning. Then when Reggie and Teddy showed up, we got high and decided it needed a custom paint job. So now it’s blue.

Teddy even tried to add some cute little flowers. ”

I pause, squinting at the thing.

“The paint job is… maybe not as great as I thought. The flowers look like, I don’t know, blue fried eggs or some shit. But it’s got heart.”

She laughs, and I can’t help the warm flush that creeps into my chest hearing it. That laugh.

“Well,” she says, still chuckling, “thank you very much. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“Yeah,” I say, feeling stupidly proud, “we can take it to the event tonight. Which, surprise, I remembered.”

“Oh,” she says casually, “I appreciate the ride, but I already have one. I’ll meet you there. And you better be on time.”

I sit up straighter, frown tightening.

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t we ride together?”

There’s a pause, just long enough to make me nervous.

“I have a ride,” she says, evenly. “I have a date.”

The ache in my chest turns to heat, fast and searing. “What the fuck do you mean, you have a date?”

Her tone shifts instantly. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Hugo. He works in set design. I met him yesterday, and he asked, so I said yes.”

“Hugo?” My voice sharpens. “You said yes to some guy you just met?”

“You didn’t exactly ask me to go with you, Johnny. I figured you’d have a date lined up already.” She says that last part with a level of sass I would usually find attractive, but right now I’m too pissed.

“Are you kidding me?”

My heart is pounding now, and I don’t even know why I’m so goddamn mad. Maybe because I can picture it, her in some little dress, smiling at some studio hack who probably thinks he’s God’s gift to set lighting. My Cassidy. My mate.

“I’ve been staying in and behaving. I built you a damn toy car,” I snap. “And you’re going to the party with fucking Hugo?”

“You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.” Her voice softens, but not enough.

“Oh, am I? Because it sure as hell feels like a big deal.”

Another silence. This one is thicker.

Finally, she says, quieter now, “It’s just a party. We’ll see each other there.”

I grip the receiver tighter, jaw clenched so hard it aches.

“I assumed you were going to be my date,” I bite out. “Cass. Come on.”

She sounds… sorry. I can hear it in her breath, that soft exhale, like she didn’t mean for this to get under my skin.

But that only pisses me off more. Because sorry doesn’t pull the knife out of my chest. Sorry doesn’t fix the image I have in my head of her next to some production monkey in a polyester suit.

“Well,” she says gently, “maybe you shouldn’t have just assumed. You should’ve asked me.”

I want to scream into the receiver. I want to yell and tear the wall in half and go find this Hugo idiot and break his smug set-designing face in two. But instead, I level my voice. I try. I try to be calm.

“Fine,” I say, and it comes out rough. “I’m asking now. Be my date. Come with me.”

I hate how pathetic it sounds. Like I’m a dog begging for scraps. Like I didn’t already spend half the night high and building her a toy like a fucking idiot with hearts in his eyes.

There’s a pause. A long one. Then her voice, quiet but final: “It’s too late, Johnny.”

My claws come out. Literally. I hear them tear straight through the fabric of the armchair like butter. Leather shreds, the padding underneath crackling as I dig in, trying to stay grounded in something that isn’t this wild, irrational heat boiling under my skin.

“No, it’s not,” I growl. “Blow him off. He’s a nobody.”

I can hear her eyes roll. “Johnny. You sound crazy.”

She’s not wrong. I am crazy. For her. I press my fingertips harder into the armrest, breathing sharply through my nose.

“Just be there on time,” she says and hangs up.

I lower the phone slowly, staring at the broken seam in the chair. The silence in the house feels loud. Too late, huh?

We'll see about that. I throw on some black slacks, and a tight cream button-down, and brush out my mustache with more care than usual because I know she likes it when it’s neat.

She once told me it looked like Burt Reynolds and Tom Selleck had a baby, and I pretended to be annoyed, but I haven’t gone a day without brushing it since.

Keys. Wallet. Smokes.

I’m out the door and in the car, ignoring every red light and flipping off a dozen LA drivers who think they own the road.

Doesn’t matter. By the time I’m close to her apartment, I’ve cooled off just enough to convince myself that this is the right move.

I’ll show up, pick her up like I should’ve in the first place, and if this Hugo asshole shows up…

well, he’ll get the picture. I’ll take her anyway and leave him standing on the curb like a chump.

But the moment I pull up to the gate, something’s off.

I slam the car door shut and march across the lot, taking the stairs two at a time. My fists are clenched and my jaw’s tighter than it should be. I stop in front of her door and knock—once, then twice, then hard enough to rattle it in the frame.

“Cassidy!” I shout. “It’s me. Open up.”

No answer.

I pound again.

Nothing.

Just as I’m about to lose it and start pounding again, a door creaks open a few feet down the hall.

“Now hold on just a second,” a voice calls,

I turn and a woman stands in the doorway beneath a pink flamingo wreath, one hand on her hip, the other balancing a cigarette and a glass of something brown on ice.

She narrows one eye at me. “You’re looking for Cassidy, aren’t you?”

I nod. “Yeah. Is she here?”

She takes a sip from her glass and leans against the doorframe like this is the most entertainment she’s had all week. “Depends who’s asking.”

I stare. “I’m, Johnny.”

Her smile spreads. “Oh, well, name’s Miss Audrey. Nice to meet you, handsome.”

I step closer. “Do you know if she left?”

Miss Audrey exhales smoke in a slow, practiced stream. “Well now, let me think. She and that pretty blonde friend came giggling down the hallway not twenty minutes ago. All dolled up. You should’ve seen Cassidy. That dress? Mercy.”

I rub a hand down my face. “Was there a guy with them?”

Her eyes sparkle. “Mmm. Tall one? Pretty eyes? Looked like he sells vacuum cleaners for a living?”

My jaw tightens. “That’s probably him.”

She nods, satisfied. “Yep, he was with them, some other guy, too. I’ve seen nothing but handsome men all night, it seems. Lucky day for Miss Audrey.”

“Do you know where they were going?”

She tilts her head. “Now, why would I tell you that when you’re clearly already in trouble?”

I let out a breath, trying not to growl. “Please.”

She softens, just a bit. “Some fancy party. That’s all I heard.”

I start to turn, but she calls out one last time.

“She looked really happy, Johnny. You might wanna ask yourself why she didn’t wait around for you.”

The door closes behind her with a soft thud, leaving me alone in the hallway with her words echoing. She left with him. I know exactly what I need to do. And exactly who I need to pay a visit to.

Naomi’s house is tucked into a crooked street just a few minutes away.

I dropped her off one night after a late shoot.

She’s the only person I can call a friend, and even that’s pushing it.

I slam my fist against her door, and it swings open.

She narrows her eyes, leans against the frame in a black oversized tee and a bag of chips in her hand.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“You going to the party tonight?”

She waves a hand, scoffing. “Hell no. I’m not going to that shit.”

She gives me a once-over, my ironed shirt, the mustache I combed for ten minutes, “I’m surprised you are. That assistant of yours got you whipped into shape, huh?”

Just the mention of Cassidy’s name makes my jaw clench hard enough to crack a molar. Naomi’s eyes narrow and light up all at once.

“Oh shit,” she says, grinning like a feral cat. “Let me guess, she’s going. But not with you. And that bothers you because you got it bad for little miss blue eyes. ”

I glare. “Yeah. What do you know about this Hugo guy?”

Naomi chuckles and throws herself onto the couch. “Hugo? Not much, quiet.”

She pauses. “That who she dumped your ass for?”

I bristle. “She didn’t dump me.”

Naomi purrs, stretching her legs over the coffee table. “Oh, how sweet this is. Johnny Howler done went and fell in love.”

I run my hand down my face, trying not to claw it off. I’m starting to rethink that friend idea.

She kicks her feet off the table, hops up, and claps her hands together. “Let me get dressed.”

I blink. “Wait, you’re coming with me? I didn’t even ask you to yet.”

She spins around, already pulling off her shirt. “Of course I’m coming with you. Not only am I going with you, but we’re gonna make her jealous as hell and have her back in your lap by midnight.”

I blink again, still stuck in place. She sticks her head out of her bedroom, bra strap hanging off her shoulder. “Why else would you come crawling to my place?” She winks.

“I knew the minute I saw you two together. You rubbing your chest and looking sick. One of my girlfriend's a werewolf. They believe in all that fated mate stuff. She’s always talking about all those rules and the pack drama.”

She disappears again, digging through her closet. “I know all about it. When you mate with someone like that, it's fate. You can’t fuck with fate.” She reemerges ten minutes later in an orange velvet dress, hair wild and glorious.

“I’m not one to stand in the way of fate,” she says, grabbing her coat. “So let’s go get your girl.”