Page 45 of Second to None

‘Dakota Hotel,’he replied within a minute.‘City center.’

So, a five-minute walk from where I was staying with my acts. With the festival in full swing, we were fortunate to snag rooms through the label, which had reserved plenty since three of our artists were performing. I stared at my phone, something restless swirling through my gut. If I went to see Cass now…

Fuck it.

‘Can I come over?’

His response came almost immediately—a room number. All right. I was doing this, then. Or—we were. Unless he had no idea what this was, thought I might just be looking for an innocent chat.

But he knew me too.

‘10 minutes,’I wrote back, then quickly brushed my teeth and threw on a hoodie before I left.

The streets were quiet at this hour, even with the festival in town. My heart pulsed in time with my steps, steady and deliberate. Outside the Dakota, a small cluster of fans still huddled in hopeful whispers, their phone screens like the glint of fireflies as I slipped past—unnoticed, I hoped. This was not for show.

Generic chilled-out music welcomed me to a dark, stylish lobby. Once upon a time, I’d practically lived in hotels like this; now, I just felt… over it, kind of. But I still knew how to act like I belonged, projecting confidence as I strode towards Frank, who was waiting for me by the lift. “Evening,” I said.

“Levi.” He nodded briskly even as something eased around his eyes.

“You taking me up, then?” I asked.

“That’s why I’m here.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets and gave him a quiet smile. “Thanks, Frank.”

“Thanks for remembering my name.” He didn’t wait for a response, simply turned to stall the lift door so I could enter first. I wouldn’t have been sure what to say anyway—ask how many of Cass’s hookups didn’t bother to learn the bodyguard’s name? Yeah, hardly.

So I walked past Frank into the lift. He followed and swiped his keycard, and then we watched the numbers climb. Top floor, of course.

“I, uh.” I slid him a quick glance. “Back with Neon Circuit, you know—I remember everyone who kept me in one piece. Didn’t always make it easy for them, mind you, but we travelled the world together. That kind of trust sticks, so I figure it’s the same for Cass with you.”

His gaze lingered on me for a beat before he shifted his stance, more relaxed now. “Appreciate it.”

We fell back into silence. When the lift slid to a buttery halt, I took a deep, harsh breath before I exited into the corridor ahead of him, heart fluttering. Yeah, I was nervous. Sue me.

“Go left,” Frank said. “It’s the second room on the right.”

“Thanks.” I turned to find a ‘Do not disturb’ sign hanging off Cass’s door. I knocked anyway, energy like a living, breathing thing under my skin. I rocked back on my heels, forward on my toes—and then Cass pulled the door open.

He must have showered not that long ago, hair curling in damp ringlets against his temple. No make-up to hide his imperfections, his face washed clean, blue eyes clear and almost grey in the dim light of the corridor. Barefoot.

This wasn’t Cassian Monroe. This was Cass. Just Cass.

And I wanted him even more.

I was staring. So was he, shadows in his eyes that I couldn’t read. Without a word, he moved half a step to the side, and I walked past him into the room. He closed the door and leaned against it.

“Good show,” I said softly, turning.

“Thanks.” He didn’t smile, and neither did I.

“Cass.” I said his name like it was a sentence, and he dipped his head the slightest bit. It felt like an invitation. He didn’t move, though. Just stayed there, leaning against the door, his lips parted as he drew a breath that made his chest rise.

I closed the space between us.

Toe to toe, faint warmth radiating off him, the lingering trace of his shower gel. He spread his thighs just a little, enough to slide down by an inch or two, and held my gaze. A challenge? A plea?

I kissed him—hard, desperate, like I’d been holding my breath for years. Caging him in against the door, my fingers digging into the meat of his forearms. His mouth opened under mine, hot and slick. Taste of toothpaste on his tongue. I chased it, relearning the ridges of his teeth all over again, and he kissed me back just as fiercely, fingers fisted in the back of my hoodie to pull me closer.

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