How to Seduce a Band Geek

 

 

 

HOW TO SEDUCE A BAND GEEK

 

(Book 2 in the HOW TO Series)

 

Cassie Mae

 

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

 

Copyright © 2014 by Cassie Mae

 

HOW TO SEDUCE A BAND GEEK by Cassie Mae

All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Swoon Romance. Swoon Romance and its related logo are registered trademarks of Georgia McBride Media Group, LLC.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

 

Edited by Georgia McBride

Published by Swoon Romance

Cover designed by Su Kopil

 

 

 

 

Dedicated to those who stand up for their friends.
 

 

 

HOW TO SEDUCE A BAND GEEK

 

(Book 2 in the HOW TO Series)

 

Cassie Mae

Chapter 1

 

If there’s one thing I know how to do really well, it’s humiliate myself.

 

I used to be okay with PDA. I’d look at couples kissing and holding hands, hugging and snuggling and think,
awww! Well, isn’t that just the cutest?

But after crashing my sister’s car into a tree to avoid having sex with my now
very
ex-boyfriend Kevin, I got slapped with the label “cock-tease.” So any amount of public affection I show toward a member of the opposite sex is like an alarm that says, “Make fun of me now!”

And then there’s my sister and her next-door-neighbor boyfriend, who don’t know how to keep their lips off each other for two seconds. So, I’ve re-evaluated how I feel about the whole PDA thing.

Thwump
!

Speaking of.

Giggle…muffled voice pretending to whisper… thwump.

Serious sigh. You’d think after two years, they would’ve mastered the art of being quiet when they hop into each others’ rooms via window. Or use the dang door. But no. Zak and Zoe have to sound like stampeding rhinos when they have an impromptu sleepover.

I pound my fist on the wall. “You guys!” I grumble, trying to get my voice steady, instead of croaking with sleep. “Mom and Dad are gone, but I’m still here.” Just because my parents went for a weeklong getaway does not mean I have to be subjected to this.

“Sorry, Sierra!” Zak says while sounding as if he’s being smothered by my sister’s mouth. They aren’t exactly the quietest kissers in the world. Or maybe it’s because they don’t give a crap about anybody else while they’re lip-locked.

I roll over and try to get back to sleep, but they’re laughing, and giggling, and saying things I really don’t want to hear. Even if I don’t understand the Doctor Who references, I get the gist.

Blowing out a breath, I crawl out of my warm, comfy bed and stumble down the hall. I can’t wait till Zoe decides to move out, so I can finally get her room and private bathroom. She should be gone already, but she and Zak decided to plant their butts at home to help with bills. Zoe works at Cineplex 17, and Zak’s working some late night security guard thing at the hospital. He gets home in the middle of the night, jumps the windows, and makes out with my sister until they just fall asleep glued at the lips.

Whine. I need sleep!

I wash my hands and face, running the warm water over my cheeks and down my neck. Maybe Mom and Dad will invest in some soundproofing for my room. I bet that conversation would be interesting.

I stomp back to my room. Hopefully that stops the midnight make-out noises. My big, cushy bed creaks a bit as I slide back between its sheets. The second my head hits the pillow and I let out a contented sigh, I hear, “Think I should pull out my wand? Show you some magic.”

Giggle. “You’ll have to conjure a ring for my finger first. Think you can manage that?”

Ugh. I slam my pillow over my face, pressing the sides against my ears as hard as I can. Just give me five hours. Please let me have five hours of nerdy-sex-reference-free sleep.

 

***

 

The incessant buzzing of my vibrating phone wakes me from a half-groggy sleep, at first making me wonder if there’s a big swarm of bees over my head. I lift the pillow and squint at the clock. 4:03.
Really
?

I fumble around for my glasses and reach for my phone, but it isn’t vibrating. It’s sitting peacefully silent on my dresser.
Okay

It’s coming from outside. Thank heavens the noise isn’t from Zoe’s room. I’d probably die of embarrassment.

I peek out, and some guy is sitting on his scooter, idling it while he diddles on his phone. Geez, what a real gentleman.
Not
! People are trying to sleep, damn it!

Folding my arms around my chest so nothing falls out, I lean over the window ledge and shout. “Hey, jerk on the little boy bike!” He turns his head, and my two-year-old prescription won’t let me see who it is. “Feel like moving it along so the rest of us can sleep?”

The light on his phone shuts off, but the scooter keeps on buzzing. Hello, dipwad! Get going or turn off that thing and sleep on the front lawn.

He throws off his helmet, then runs a hand through his blond hair. I squint with all my might, adjusting the glasses on my face. When his smile comes into focus, my stomach drops right through the floor.

Oh gosh, no.

“Sorry, Sierra! Won’t happen again.”

My whole body wants to fall through the floor now. Levi Mason waves at me and settles his helmet back on, then takes off on his little scooter, taking the buzzing with him. I can’t believe
Levi
saw me in my glasses and messy bun, practically half naked on top since my pajamas are so holey. Not to mention I called that super sexy boy a jerk. Can I bury myself in a hole and never ever come out?

Levi is my sister’s best friend—minus Zak of course—and he is pretty much the sexiest man alive. I’m surprised People Magazine hasn’t found him and put him on every copy. I’ve been salivating over his perfection for two years, and instead of moving into the “potential girlfriend” category, I got slammed right into “baby sister” category. Worst place ever.

I pound my forehead on the wood floor a few times. If I hadn’t been so sleep deprived in the first place, the buzzing wouldn’t have turned me into a screaming banshee.

Darn sister and her boyfriend. They need to find a place of their own immediately.

I crawl to my bed, hoisting myself up and under the covers. My pillow is over my face and I scream into the feathers. Mortifying! Seriously, what is Levi going to think of me now? I’ve moved from “baby sister” to “4 AM monster.” Lovely.

After twisting in my sheets for twenty minutes, I growl and kick them off completely. I’m getting no sleep. All I can think about is what he’s going to say to me at school today, or what I’m going to say to him, or if we’ll even talk at all, and
ugh
. How do I make this better?

I rip my hair tie from my bed-head and re-tie. My fingers find the hole near the rib of my tee, and I tear it apart. Time to do what I do best.

My parents got me a sewing machine a few months ago, totally trying to get me to stop ripping my clothes to bits and tying them back together, but sometimes the tear-and-tie look is super cute.

I wiggle out of my torn pajama top and then rip off the straggling fabric. There’s another hole in the armpit, so I tear off the sleeve, not giving a crap about all the noise I’m making. I actually start to evil laugh, hoping I wake Zoe up.

Spreading the remnants of my shirt on the bed, I suck in a breath and hold it in my cheeks. I need a purple cami and a black fabric marker. Then I’ll pair it with my cutoffs and grey leggings. Oh! It’s going to be awesome. I butt jiggle all the way to my closet.

After ripping, sewing, tying, and scribbling, I hold up my used-to-be pajama top and squeal. I slide it over my head and skip over to my full length mirror. This is so going on my “My Style” Pinterest board.

“You rock, Sierra,” I say to myself like a dork, and I gaze over my shoulder at the clock. Oh crappit! I’ve only got about ten minutes to shower and shave.

I dash to the bathroom, tripping over my rug and hitting the door a little harder than expected. My hipbone goes right into the doorknob, and bolts of pain shoot through my waist to my butt, making me curl in on myself.

Holy crap, I can’t even make it to the bathroom without injury.

Setting my head on the wall, I wait for the pain to pass. Then another thud comes from down the hall and next thing I know, Zak jumps out of Zoe’s room wearing nothing but a pair of Superman boxers and T-shirt, armed with a light saber.

“Who’s there!” he shouts at my crumpled form on the floor. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, and when I give him a small wave, he lowers his weapon. “Sierra? You scared the frak out of… uh… Zoe.” He pushes the button on the light saber to turn the blue glow off, the
swoosh
noise disappearing with it. Like that’s going to affect the danger level in his weapon of choice. I press my lips together to keep myself from laughing.

“Sorry,” I say, straightening. My hip throbs a bit, but it’s not as bad as before. It’ll definitely bruise though. “I tripped and ran into the door. All safe out here.”

His eyebrow disappears into his dark bed-head hair, and he lets out a hollow laugh. “You okay?”

“I’ll live.”

He rubs his eyes, the tip of the light saber hitting the floor with a small thump. He mumbles a small “g’nite” and he drags himself and the weapon back into Zoe’s room. I give Zoe props for finding someone so super perfect for her, even if he defends himself with a toy.

The bathroom tile is super cold, so I hop in the shower. I turn the water to boiling and soak myself, loosening my tight limbs. The hand-held shower nozzle massages my aching hip. If there was a way to stay in the shower for the rest of my life, I’d totally do it. But boo on the water getting cold. I climb out, dry off, and throw a robe on.

Butterflies are having a dance party in my stomach. This morning was a major setback. It took me a month to get Levi to refer to me as “Sierra” and not “Zoe’s little sis.” And it took five months for him to sit next to me in Debate, even though we’ve shared that class for forever. I know I’m a teeny tiny sophomore panting over this hunk of senior deliciousness, but I will get him to notice me. Perhaps ask me out. Kiss me.
Oh yum
.

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