How to Seduce a Band Geek (24 page)

He grabs the back of my neck and slams my lips to his. My eyes are stuck in the open position, because holy crap, what just happened? It's not like I was doing anything particularly irresistible. Then his grip tightens in my hair, and my eyes fall closed, and my knees feel like they'll give out. His strong hands keep me standing, but his hot breath mingling with mine makes me wish we were horizontal so I could put all my focus on that and not on falling flat on my face to the ground.

“Just to tide me over,” he says when he pulls back. Then he runs out, fumbling with his hat and leaving me complete melted goo along with the other sticky stuff under the bleachers.

Chapter 24

PDA, here I come.

Something wet plops on my forehead, and I shriek, thinking someone just spit on me or something. Then another hits my arm. Then my nose when I look up through the holes in the bleachers to the blackened sky. Thunder rumbles, shaking the metal bars next to me. I pull up Levi’s hood, loving that even though I’ve had it for weeks, it still smells like him.

A drum starts, and the thunder plays along with the drummer. My heart gets a little sad for Levi. I wonder how hard it is for him to play something else, even though he says he does it because he’s so in love with music.

In love with music. In love with
me
.

I’m still reeling from that. And like a huge dork, I didn’t say it back. But I could’ve said it right then and meant it.

And because I love him, I’m going to do something I normally run away from. I’m going to face all of it, everything and everyone. I just have to pluck my feet from the ground and do it.

I’m rocking the chipmunk cheeks as I step from under the bleachers. The football field is muddy already. The players are dirty and sweaty, welcoming the rain as it washes their faces. The band marches on the fifty yard line, and my eyes desperately search for easily the hottest piccolo player in the world.

Mud spatters all of their shoes. They march, march, march, covering their clean uniforms in rain and mud puddles. I bite back my smile, thinking that this is probably the most accurate definition of dirty dancing.

One of my hands shoves into Levi’s hoodie pocket, and I lift the handle on the chain link gate separating fans from the field with the other. I still haven’t located that boy, but I am enjoying watching the tuba players as their fingers slip on the wet instruments and their knees almost buckle from the weight.

I try to look innocent as the coach glances in my direction. I lean against the chain link, and wait till I don’t feel his gaze on me anymore.

That’s when I hear it—the high pitched beauty that is Levi’s lips on a piccolo. I stand straight, stretching my neck, and I see the one player in the bunch, covered in mud like the rest of his bandmates. He’s rocking the crap out of that instrument.

They sound awesome. Even if I’m not in acoustic heaven, I can still appreciate the music. It’s upbeat and fun, and they just keep on playing even though they’re soaked and no one in the bleachers is really paying attention.

The last chord rings out, and they do a synchronized bow, right face it, and start marching off the field.

Without another thought to the people behind me, to the football players, or the cheerleaders, or even the rest of the marching band, I slip and slide my way over to Levi. I can hear people laughing. I can hear them yelling something about me or saying “What’s that chick doing?” but the sound of the weather and my heart freaking out in my chest drown it out when I get close enough to him. I weave through the flutes and stop right in front of him, watching his eyes widen while the rest of the band behind him run into each other as I halt their retreat from the field.

“Hey,” I say, breathing hard and letting the rain patter against my hood and mud fill my shoes.

“Hey.”

We pause, and I know there are people laughing or talking or whatever. But I’m not going to look at them. I’m going to look straight at Levi, and do what
I
want, even if I get crap for it.

“I didn’t get the chance to say I love you, too.”

One of the trumpet players drops his instrument on the grass. Another says, “Holy shit!” And Blinky doesn’t disappoint by blinking a million and seventy-two times at the both of us.

I feel my cheeks warm, but I’m shivering as the rain starts falling faster.

“I fell in love with the way you say things without thinking. I love how you play the piccolo. I love the way you look in that uniform and how you look in your Cineplex polo, and how you smell like popcorn sometimes.”

The rain and thunder get so loud I have to practically shout at him, like I’m screaming out my love for him to everyone in the whole world.

“I love how you talk during movies. How your butt looks when you jog to your moped. I love your half smile, your full smile, your kind of smile. I fell in love with the way you distract me when I’m nervous or scared or sick. I love how you scratch your nose when you’re nervous, how you talk to everyone even if they aren’t in your social circle. How good you are at taking care of everyone yet you still think you’re not doing enough. You’re freaking adorable and sexy and a hell of a good kisser. And I love you for all of it.”

Levi’s usual half smile turns to a fully loaded smile. He reaches for my hand, but stops midway. Then he’s back to half grinning.

I know he’s waiting for me. Waiting to see if I’ll be okay this quickly after I told him all I’m afraid of. I’m not sure if I am okay, but I know that I won’t ever be if I don’t do what he said, and be above it all. Not let them define me.

No, I define myself. And I’m the cute dorky girl who fell in love with the sexy band geek.

So I will kiss him whenever the hell I want to.

I jump on his soaked uniform, wrap my legs tight around his waist and hold his face.

Then I kiss the crap out of him.

There’s more “Holy shits!” and we both laugh around our kisses. His piccolo digs into my butt cheek as he tries to hold me steady, and rain falls into our open mouths making this just about the most awkward and hottest moment ever.

Even though it’s super hard to think about anything while I’m kissing Levi, I do think about what he said. About looking for the good people instead of hiding from everyone. I’m totally going to do that. Maybe I can find the strength to rise above the bullying, instead of letting it tear me down. And when it does tear me down, I can turn to the people who know who I am. Including myself.

I pull from Levi’s lips to his ear so he can hear me over the weather and all the other noise around us. “I told you that you can take care of me.”

“That was me taking care of you?” He laughs. “I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.”

I lean back, holding his gaze and watching the rain drip from his hat and my hoodie onto his lips. He’s seriously the most adorable person ever, and I can’t believe he saw me even when I didn’t see myself.

I smile and kiss a raindrop off his nose.

“We can take care of each other.”

The band starts marching around us, playing some kind of song I think is supposed to be romantic, but it’s loud and since it was impromptu, beats are off and it’s missing one very high pitched important element, but the piccolo player’s lips are very busy right now.

You know, this PDA stuff might not be so bad.

CASSIE MAE

Cassie Mae is a nerd to the core from Utah, who likes to write about other nerds who find love. She’s the author of the Amazon Bestsellers
REASONS I FELL FOR THE FUNNY FAT FRIEND
and
HOW TO DATE A NERD
, and is the debut author for the Random House FLIRT line with her New Adult novels
FRIDAY NIGHT ALIBI
and the Barnes and Noble top seller
SWITCHED
. She spends time with her angel children and perfect husband who fan her and feed her grapes while she clacks away on the keyboard. Then she wakes up from that dream world and manages to get a few words on the computer while the house explodes around her. When she’s not writing, she’s spending time with the youth in her community as a volleyball and basketball coach, or searching the house desperately for chocolate.

You can connect with her on
FACEBOOK
 

Acknowledgements

Thank you readers for reading this far, and for reading this page even though acknowledgements are crazy boring, and for sticking with my dorky Sierra and her piccolo playing crush, Levi.

Thank you to my own band geek crush I had in high school… who still has no clue I found his percussion skills so very attractive, and that I went to every football game sophomore year just to watch him in the band stands.

Thank you Google Docs for saving this manuscript from my computer crash.

Thank you my Awesome Nerds for pimping my books, boosting my ego when I need it, and for being so sexy. ;)

Thank you Beta girls, especially Ilima, Kyra, Jennie, Rachel, Suzi, Jessica, and Theresa for critiquing my Band Geek baby, for making sure Levi wasn’t a total dud, that Sierra was funny as heck, and that I didn’t accidentally write too many Adam scenes, even though I sort of fell in love with him.

Thank you Brittany for being so enthusiastic about all my ideas and selling them. You’re awesome, but you know that.

Thank you Georgia for being such a hands-on editor, owner, and running a kickbutt publishing company. And for allowing me to booty-shake my way through several emails.

Thank you Su for my beautiful, fun, and amazing covers!

Thank you Mommy for letting me read this book to you on our 9 hour drive to AZ, for laughing at all the right parts, and for enjoying this one as much as I did. There are so many things to thank you for, but I’m gonna cut it off here or I’ll start crying.

Thank you Rachel for being Sierra’s biggest fan. I kinda love her too. ;)

Thank you to the piccolo for being such an awesome instrument to research.

Thank you Jenny, Becki, and Shellie for being so supportive, for begging me for my next book so I get my booty writing, and for buying my paperbacks. I love having such great sisters. :)

Thank you children for making sure I spend enough time cleaning toys, wiping bums, and reading bedtime stories so I’m not glued to the computer all day.

And of course, thank you to my Joshy Poo, for serenading me with your guitar skills, for being a frequent visitor to the band pit in high school, and enjoying Hairspray (along with other musicals) as much as I did. I love you, my sexy band geek!

Chapter 1

Can I get kisses instead of spankings for my birthday?

There’s this old school movie called
Sixteen Candles
. Apparently, it’s a classic. I’ve never seen it, nor do I have a desire to. I know the gist though. A red-headed girl’s family forgets her birthday because her older sis has a wedding or something or other, and she goes through a hilarious embarrassing day and ends up with a cute popular guy in the end, even though it started out shit.

I don’t know why people have this idea in their heads that sixteen is supposed to be the best birthday of your teenage life. I get eighteen. That’s an epic age. But why make a big deal out of sixteen when you can’t afford a car to drive, you can’t afford a kickbutt party, and you have to spend your birthday with your older brother and his girlfriend who can’t seem to stop groping each other.

“Do you guys know whose day it is?” I ask, crossing my arms and glaring at them. They’ve been totally ignoring me, but they won’t let me “be alone” because “no one should be alone on their birthday!” Heaven forbid.

“It’s yours, Brea,” Levi, my big brother answers, pulling his face away from Sierra’s neck. He snatches a fry from the tray sitting in the middle of our table. “Which is why we’re paying for your food.”