Anything You Need (Cataclysm Book 1)

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Anything You Need (Cataclysm Book 1) Page 5

by Jerica MacMillan


  “Maybe we realized we’ve been in love with each other all along?” I don’t mean it to come out sounding like a question, but it does. A lame, lame question that only validates Mitchell’s theory.

  He gives a snort of amusement. “Okay, sure.” Sitting back in his chair again, he makes another expansive gesture. “How did you guys discover this long-hidden love?”

  My mind racing, I open my mouth to give him a story, hoping it’ll sound believable. I came up with something in preparation for last weekend, expecting my mom to ask, but she never did. And neither did anyone else.

  But the door to the coffee shop bursts open, and in walks Marcus, eyes blazing, the wind gusting in after him like something out of a movie. Or one of his music videos.

  Struck by inspiration, I put my coffee down and stand, pushing my chair out from behind me. I paste a big smile on my face and meet him halfway between the door and our table, my arms immediately going around his neck. “I’m so glad you made it,” I say, not having to force an ounce of sincerity into my voice because it’s all real. Then I pull his face to mine and kiss him.

  He doesn’t respond at first, but after a beat his arms wrap around me, trapping me against his chest, and he takes over the kiss, his lips parting mine and his tongue snaking into my mouth. Heat rushes from my mouth, coursing through my veins to settle low in my belly, tingling between my thighs.

  Because holy hell. Marcus can kiss.

  Chapter Nine

  Marcus

  Lips. Tongue. Soft curves pressing against me.

  I try to make myself back off, slow down, but she doesn’t want to let me, meeting the hunger in my kiss with her own.

  But we’re in public.

  And if I don’t calm down, I might rip her clothes off and lay her out on the nearest table, other people be damned.

  Slowly, painfully, I unwrap my arms from her torso, running them down her sides to her hips, because I need to feel the shape of her under her ridiculously soft sweater, then back up to cup her face. Gentling the kiss, I withdraw my tongue, enjoying the whimper of protest she gives me when I pull back. I place another kiss against her wet and swollen lips, and gaze down at her flushed face.

  Her eyelids flutter open, her pupils blown as she gazes up at me.

  “Hi.” My voice is a hoarse whisper.

  “Hi.” Hers isn’t any more steady, but her lips curve up in a smile. She blinks again and seems to come back to herself, taking a step back but not taking her eyes off me.

  A throat clears from across the table, and I glance down to see the pretty-boy douchecanoe that she dated for a while. Every time I see this guy, I hate him a little more.

  Once again, he has that look on his face like he can smell shit somewhere. Does he always look like that? Or is that special just for me?

  I’d be concerned if I actually cared what this asshole thought about me. Plus, I know I smell good. Kendra helped me pick out this cologne when I wanted a change a couple of years ago. Since I’ve been on tour for the last two years, she and I haven’t gotten to spend a lot of time together.

  But that’s all changing now.

  Not only am I supposed to be her boyfriend until further notice, that kiss …

  Mitchell stands and extends a hand. I reach across and shake it, giving him a smile that’s all teeth. “Mitchy. Good to see you again.”

  “Mitchell,” he corrects, sinking back into his chair.

  “Right. That’s what I said.” I hold Kendra’s chair for her before taking mine, ignoring the daggers Mitchell is sending my way with his eyeballs.

  This guy. He’s as touchy as Mason’s college girlfriend. She was always getting her panties in a twist over something and sending huffy glares at everyone. I was on the receiving end of my fair share. Kendra was too, come to think of it.

  I don’t bother suppressing my smile at the memory, draping an arm across the back of Kendra’s chair, knowing that both things will piss Mitchell off even more.

  If I didn’t already suspect him of dragging Kendra out for coffee as a ploy to talk her into giving him another chance, his attitude would tip me off.

  When I got Kendra’s text, rage had ignited in my veins. I’d immediately cut short the writing session with Danny and come straight here. I’ve always been protective of Kendra, but this level of caveman-style possessiveness is new.

  Whatever. I’m going with it. At this point, it’s helpful. If it ever becomes unhelpful … well, we’ll deal with that when the time comes.

  Mitchell clears his throat. “I didn’t realize you were in town, Marshall.”

  My smile pulls even wider at his deliberate use of the wrong name. He’s trying to beat me at my own game. “It’s Marcus, Mitchy.” I reach for Kendra’s coffee and take a sip, enjoying Mitchell’s reaction. “But you knew that already.”

  He neither acknowledges nor denies that statement, which he seems not to realize is the same as an admission.

  Setting Kendra’s coffee back down, I pin Mitchell with my gaze. “I was surprised to find out you’d showed up at Kendra’s apartment. I didn’t realize you two still visited each other.”

  He fusses with the cuffs of his shirt. “I’m sure there are a lot of things you’re unaware of. Since you aren’t exactly around.”

  Kendra moves like she’s going to interrupt, but she settles when I give her shoulder a squeeze. I let my fingers linger there, caressing her through her sweater. “Yeah, touring’s pretty rough. But we actually just decided to write our next album here in Massachusetts.”

  Mitchell stills, the only tell that he’s surprised by that turn of events. “Ah,” he says after a beat. “That explains why you’re here when I thought you were on the other coast. I hear having a bicoastal relationship can be tricky. But I suppose it’s new enough that you’d want to be close. Plus, it makes it easier to convince Kendra that you keep it in your pants when she’s not around.”

  He leans closer and lowers his voice. “But with your choice of groupies at every show, who could blame you for wanting a little action on the side? Working as hard as you do must be exhausting. I promise to look out for Kendra while you’re gone.” Sitting back, he gives me a wink as he picks up his coffee, a smug look on his face.

  My fingers curl into a fist on the table as rage spirals through me. And I’m painfully aware of Kendra stiffening in her seat next to me. What I wouldn’t give to punch him in that smug little face. Ruin his perfect profile. Which is completely unlike me. I’m not a fighter. My hands are my moneymakers, so risking damage to them is stupid. And he wants to provoke a reaction, so I’ll be damned if I give him what he wants.

  Forcing my hand to relax, I focus on Kendra, taking in the color high in her cheeks. I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Babe, would you go get me a coffee? You know what I like.”

  She glances between Mitchell and me, frozen other than the movement of her eyes.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper, hoping that my voice is low enough that only she can hear me. “I promise not to kill him.”

  She stands, nodding stiffly. “The only reason I don’t want you to is because it’s not worth you getting in trouble over him,” she mutters before heading to the counter.

  I watch her walk away, waiting until she’s talking to the barista to lean across the table and return my attention to Mitchell. He looks at me, waiting, that smug smile still on his face.

  “Here’s the deal, asshole.” His eyebrows jump, and if anything, his smile grows wider at my insult. “Kendra’s with me. Not you. I know you’re hoping you can win her back with this little ambush, but it’s not going to work. Even if I weren’t in the picture, she wouldn’t give you the time of day. So run along and find someone more receptive.”

  His even teeth flash in the rare burst of January sunshine that slants through the window. “Right. Thanks for that.” He leans forward as well. “Here’s the actual deal. Kendra’s not sure what’s best for her. I’d rather she worked this”—he gestures at me�
��“nonsense out of her system before we get married anyway.”

  I snort at his assertion that they’ll ever get married.

  He stands, gathering his coat. “Whatever’s going on between you two is either not real or not deep. Either way, it’ll run its course in a few weeks, or maybe a few months, and I’ll be waiting to pick up the pieces when she loses both her latest boyfriend and her oldest friend. Because we both know that you won’t be around for long. You’re a rockstar. The lead singer of a famous band. You’ll have to go back to California and another tour, and Kendra will be here wondering who you’re fucking after the show. Wondering how she can ever make a life with someone like you. And me? Well, I’m the perfect model of stability. Able to provide a home for her and a family. Perfectly placed to take over our fathers’ business, not only keeping our family fortunes intact, but blending them together.”

  Draping his scarf around his neck, his coat still hanging over his arm, he comes around to my side of the table and pats me on the shoulder. “Enjoy her while you have her. Not that she’s that much fun in the sack. A little too bossy for my taste.”

  That parting jab has me seeing red, and I shoot out of my chair fast enough to send it toppling over behind me. But he’s already approaching Kendra, who stands waiting for my coffee. He gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, which she returns awkwardly, then he sends me a big smile as he settles his coat on his shoulders and pushes out the door. Hands in his pockets, he strolls off, happy as can be.

  I’m going to kill him.

  And dump his sorry carcass in the harbor.

  Kendra’s hand slides up my arm, drawing me out of my murderous thoughts. “Marcus? What did he say?”

  My mouth goes dry at the thought of telling her any of what he said. I give a tiny shake of my head and swallow down all my rage. “Doesn’t matter.” My voice is low and tight. I need to calm down so I don’t freak her out.

  Turning to her, I glance at the paper cup she’s holding out to me. “Thanks, Ken.”

  Her eyes are still broadcasting her concern. “Talk to me. What did he say? Did he—”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s an asshole.”

  She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  That makes me crack a smile. A little one.

  “That’s better.” Kendra puts on her coat as I sip the coffee, then wraps her arm around mine and steers me toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go back to my place. It’s quieter. And there won’t be anyone staring at us. Or interrupting us to get your autograph.” She mutters the last sentence almost under her breath, because just then a teenaged boy sitting at a table near the door stands and approaches us.

  “Hey, uh, you’re Marcus Barrett, right? From Cataclysm?”

  I switch my coffee to my left hand, the side Kendra’s still holding, so I can shake the kid’s hand. “Sure am.” The kids eyes go wide, and I think they’re about to bug out of his head. I give him an easy smile. “What’s your name?”

  “Joey. Joe.”

  “Nice to meet you, Joe. You got something you want me to sign?”

  He grabs a napkin off his table, then scans the area frantically. “Uh, I don’t have a pen.”

  Kendra lets go of my arm and opens her purse, producing a pen a second later.

  Taking it from her, I kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Ken. You’re the best.”

  Joe is even more grateful. “Yes. Oh my God. You’re awesome. Thank you so much. Both of you. This is … wait till my friends hear that I met you.”

  “Oh yeah? Are your friends fans too?”

  He nods violently. “Yeah. We’re in a band.”

  I lean over the table and scribble on the napkin, straightening up to hand it to him. “That’s awesome, man. Keep practicing. If you’re good enough, play local shows, build up a following, you can make it too. You just gotta work hard.”

  The kid’s grinning from ear to ear. “Thanks, man. Thanks a lot. Would you mind if I got a picture?” He holds up a smart phone with a big crack in the middle of the screen.

  “Sure, man.” I move to stand next to him. “Hey, Kendra. Would you do the honors?”

  I think the kid’s about to swallow his tongue when I throw an arm around his shoulder.

  “Smile,” Kendra says.

  I don’t know if Joe manages much of a smile, but I do. Kendra snaps the picture and hands the kid back his phone.

  “Thank you so much!” he gushes again. “I can’t believe this. This is amazing. Oh my God.”

  I offer him my hand again, and he shakes it with his clammy one. “Always great to meet a fan. Have a good one.”

  Wrapping my arm around Kendra, we head for the door. Back to her place.

  Chapter Ten

  Kendra

  “Hey, babe, what’s up?” Marcus’s voice in my ear sends warmth cascading down my body, even over the phone.

  “Hey. I just wanted to check in and see how your day is going.” I smile like a middle schooler whose crush called her for the first time. Which is silly, since I called him. And Marcus and I have talked on the phone a million times. Even more than normal this last week since that kiss.

  That kiss …

  We haven’t really talked about it, but it seems to have caused a shift in the basis of our relationship. After Marcus walked me back to my apartment, we settled onto the couch for a movie. Nothing terribly unusual about that, except the fact that we haven’t watched a movie together in years because of his crazy life since Cataclysm hit the big time. But when we did, we were always on our separate ends of the couch, and maybe my feet would end up in his lap or something. That day he wrapped an arm around me and pulled my back against his chest.

  We watched the movie like that, me lounging against him, until the end, when he pulled me more across his lap and lowered his mouth to mine for another earth-moving kiss.

  That’s all we’ve done, though. Kiss. Every time we see each other, we end up making out like a couple of fourteen-year-olds. And we talk on the phone a ton. Also like a couple of fourteen-year-olds.

  Marcus’s sigh reverberates in my ear. “It’s been a frustrating day, actually. I’m glad you called. Gave us an excuse to take a break.”

  I curl my legs under me on the couch. “Happy to be a distraction whenever you need.” He lets out a low, sexy grunt in response, which makes me smile again. “What’s so frustrating?”

  “Danny’s distracted, so we’re having trouble digging in and getting some good writing done. I think we might call it a day soon, even though we really shouldn’t. We’ve been butting heads more than making any progress, though, so maybe we should work on things separately and try again tomorrow.” He sighs again, but this one sounds more dejected than frustrated.

  “That seems like a good idea. You can’t force this stuff. If you try, the label will just tell you it’s crap and not put it on the album anyway.”

  He hums in agreement. “When am I seeing you again?”

  There goes my fourteen-year-old-with-a-crush smile again. “I’m having tea with my mother at three. I can call you when I’m done and either come there or you can come here.”

  “I was hoping you’d say I could come over now.” His voice is low and full of promise, which makes me squirm with a mix of longing and apprehension.

  Because even though we’re talking and making out like teenagers who can’t get much time alone, I’m scared to cross the outer boundary of the friend zone.

  At this point, I feel like we could stop kissing and still be friends. One of us could say, “Hey. Maybe this is a bad idea.” And we’d talk about it and decide not to anymore.

  But if we have sex?

  There’s no going back from that.

  Maybe we should have that conversation about not kissing anymore, now that I think about it.

  I bite my index finger, my stomach clenching in dread at the thought of not getting any more of Marcus’s kisses. No. It’s too soon for that. He’s still supposed to be my b
oyfriend, after all. And the kissing is good practice. Especially since Mitchell was doubting the reality of our relationship. Kissing often will give us the level of comfort with each other that real couples have, so it’s just … practice. Rehearsal for when we have to be seen together in public again.

  “You could come over now, but I won’t be able to stay long. Or come over whenever. I’ll tell the concierge to let you in, and you can make yourself comfortable until I get back.”

  Marcus is silent for a long minute. Long enough to have me backtracking. “Or you could just go to your place. I’ll let you know when I’m done with my mom. You know how she is. I have no idea how long tea will be.”

  “How long does it take to drink a cup of tea?” Marcus’s suppressed laughter is evident in his voice.

  I roll my eyes. “I know. It seems silly. My mom thinks she’s British. But it’s our thing. She always has me over for tea when she wants to check in with me. She’s probably going to angle for an update on you and me.”

  “What are you going to tell her?”

  Am I imagining the apprehension in his voice? Either way, my own heart rate kicks up a notch. “I figured I’d tell her things are going well. That you’re in town until you finish writing your album. We’ve been enjoying getting to spend more time together.”

  “So, the truth.”

  I let out a weird little laugh. “Yeah. The truth. Crazy, right?”

  It’s his turn to chuckle, though his sounds more relaxed than mine. “Well, since it started as less than true …”

  I gulp. Started? I want to ask. But that would be too much like actually talking about this thing between us, whatever it is. Which is really stupid. I’ve always talked to Marcus about everything.

  But this …

  It’s that same fear. Will talking about it ruin it? And what will it ruin? Our friendship? Or whatever else is starting to happen here?

  So I don’t address that baby elephant. Instead, I clear my throat. “Right. So, uh, I’ll let my building know that you’re welcome to come up and wait for me if you decide to. And I’ll still call you when I’m leaving my parents’ to see where you are and what you want to do. Sound good?”

 

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