Free How to Seduce a Band Geek by Cassie Mae

is the worst thing ever. He hasn’t even asked me what I’m doing here. He just comes home, probably hoping to eat something, and instead he has to deal with me puking in his bushes.
    I don’t have the energy to stop the dribbles of tears, which turn into rivers when I feel his hand wrap around my hair and hold it on top of my head. With his other hand he starts rubbing soothing circles around my back. How embarrassing, but he’s totally so sweet. I want to lean into his chest, but I’m afraid of another wave of nausea if I move too much.
    “Breathe, Sierra.”
    Has he been talking the whole time? My head refuses to focus on anything but the heat in my body. But my attention is slowly drifting to his hand, and the rhythms he creates against my back lets me take a few calming breaths and push away the dizzies.
    I take another sip of water, swish it around my mouth, and spit it back out. Then I settle on the front step again, rubbing my arms because now I’m shivering instead of overflowing with heat.
    Levi pats my knee. “Stay put. I’m gonna get something to clean you up.”
    Like, where am I going to go? I can barely move.
    I’m still not feeling too hot when he comes back, wet rag in hand.
    “Think you can handle this?” he asks, gesturing to my leg. “I don’t want to make you sick, but it’s a mess. We better see how deep it is, or if you’re just a… heavy bleeder.”
    “Ugh…” I moan and press my nose between my knees.
    “I’ll try to distract you.”
    If he’s not doing that naturally, I don’t know if he’ll be able to do that at all. I can’t even appreciate how amazing he’s being right now.
    “Here,” he says, sliding closer. I slowly sit upright, ignoring all the erratic thumps of my heart and flutters in my tummy, in case that’ll make things worse. He tucks his palm under my thigh, lifts my leg, and settles it over his.
    Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh. That’s distracting, yes. I’m sure as hell not thinking about blood. But it’s not helping my funked up insides.
    He offers me a delectable half smile, and the warm rag hits the skin on my ankle. “Okay, ask me something. Anything. I’ll talk about it as long as possible.”
    I cringe as he rubs the cloth up and down my leg. “Is it bad?”
    He stops, eyes filled with amusement. “Something to take your mind off your cut.”
    Oh! Duh, I’m a dork. “Um, okay.” I breathe in, and push back another wave of yuckies as his hand starts moving again. “What’s that thing you play in band?”
    “That would be a piccolo.” He winks, and I think I need a wink translator because I still have no idea what it means.
    I watch his face as he continues to rub my leg. “And what is that?”
    “Do you want me to show you?” he offers, mouth picking up at the corner. I nod my head into another dizzy spell. “Hang on.” He drops my leg and jogs to his moped. Under the seat is his little black case, and he jogs back to me. He takes my leg, plopping it over his again. The snaps click open under his fingers, and he gently pulls out this instrument that looks like it’s desperately trying to be a flute, but it missed its growth spurt.
    “The piccolo,” he says, setting it in my hand. It’s light, and made out of wood. I click the buttons a few times wishing I didn’t have the sudden urge to make out with the mouth hole just to get a taste of something Levi had his lips on.
    For some reason, I giggle as I put it up to my forearm. It is the same size.
    “Yeah, it’s…I’m still trying to adjust.” He scratches his nose before he starts wiping my leg again. I’d totally forgotten about it.
    “What happened to your drums?”
    He sighs, and I clack the piccolo keys for something to fill the sudden awkwardness in the air.
    “I sold them.”
    “You did what ?” Holy word vomit. Must be aftereffects of actual vomit. His face gets all sad, and I immediately regret the entire drum question. “Sorry,” I mumble, then keep my eyes glued