Page 1 of Entranced By the Nakken
Chapter One
Casey
Kastle Kaos Karaoke Kingread the little gold trophy, the last item in the last box. Casey placed the golden microphone on the shelf above the twin-size bed with midnight blue sheets covered in Death Stars and lightsabers. Casey never dreamed he would complete college at age twenty-nine just to wind up back in the small town of Lindahl, the sound of his dad arguing with the television mingling with the scent of mom’s cooking drifting up to his childhood room like a sensory buffet of nostalgia.
Logically, there’s nothing wrong with moving back home. Many people do it at least once in their lives, but Casey had big dreams, big plans, and a big pile of student debt for a degree that didn’t fit into any of those fantasies. Not that rock stars don’tneed a business plan. Casey wasn’t a rock star, though; he was a burnt-out college grad and the Karaoke King of Kastle Kaos, an intimate bar with the best cocktails in Seminole County.
With the unpacking done, he should get started on the laundry. His parents hadn’t touched his room this whole time, which was thoughtful of them but also made him wonder if they’d expected this to happen. Guess it was obvious he wasn’t that interested in business school. It was a safe bet. A versatile degree, useful no matter the venture. No one was actually passionate about it, though, right? His business analytics professor would disagree.
Casey exhaled. He stared at the bed and considered flopping down for a nap. Fast forward a bit.
Deciding not to risk whatever dreamland his stress would cook up, Casey collected the empty boxes and headed downstairs. The moment his toes touched the shag carpet of the bottom floor, his senses collided against a wall of roasted meat. Basil, onions, beef. Fuck, even some homemade bread.
“Smells delicious, Mom,” Casey said as he crossed the kitchen to the garage door.
Mom yelped in surprise, her curls bouncing in their messy bun. Casey barely resembled his mom, other than the thin, pointed nose, and thick eyebrows. Where her eyes were emerald, Casey’s were hazel, though they looked unremarkable in typical indoor lighting. She pressed a hand to her chest and scowled at him from her menacing five-foot frame.
Casey winced and bit back a smile. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Casey! I forgot—oh, let me give you a hand!”
“I can handle a few boxes, Mom.” Casey pushed open the garage door with his shoulder with a tad too much force. His foot stumbled off the steep step, but he caught himself. The boxesweren’t as lucky. They tumbled onto the concrete in a heap. “Fuck.”
His mom snorted. She’d resumed stirring the pot and watched him with a quirked brow, that look she gave him that was somehow bothtold you soandyou poor dearat the same time.
“You’ve gotta learn to let people help you, dear,” she cooed. Real subtle, mom. As if his mere presence wasn’t enough proof that he could accept help.
“All right, then,” he challenged. “Once I’m done here, let me help you with dinner.”
“Psh!” Her head snapped back toward what she was doing. Casey smirked. Point to Casey.
“Oh, give your mom a break,” Casey’s dad’s voice boomed, deep and raspy from his one-sided argument with the news anchors. As usual, he had no clue what was going on and automatically took his wife’s side. Kind of cute, Casey supposed. “She’s excited to finally have one of her chickens in the coop to cook for.”
“Yes. I’ve heard all your father’s compliments a thousand times. I need some new music for my ears.”
Casey folded the last box and shoved it in the blue bin. Mom was goading him into singing for her, and she would get exactly what she wished for. “Oh Mama, your cooking is the finest my buds have ever tasted, won’t you make me a bowl, and yes I do want a roll! Two rolls, actually!”
Mom snickered at his antics but waved a fresh roll his way and matched his pitch. “Like I didn’t know that already!” She arranged three bowls on the counter and spoke in her regular voice next. “You’ve been gone a while, but I know my son.”
“How do you know I haven’t changed? Nine years is a long time.”
“Sure, but unlike your sister, you at least visited. Besides,” she brought two bowls full of roast to the table where Casey and his father were getting comfortable. “You can change all you want, and I’ll be thrilled to watch. Like a caterpillar.” She beamed and kissed the top of his head. “My beautiful butterfly baby!”
“Missing Natasha right about now?” Dad joked, but Casey shook his head. Despite current matters bruising his ego, he was eternally grateful for his parents. Even if he was ready to move out. Again. Already.
“Nah, she’d eat all the rolls,” Casey said lightheartedly.
“Which is why I made a whole sheet!” Mom beamed so bright that nobody reminded her of the obvious fact Natasha wasn’t here.
Dinner was pleasant, and Casey appreciated that his parents didn’t push for information about his life, or worse, his feelings. They would let him bring stuff up on his own time, although he knew they itched for it worse than poison ivy.
“Thanks for dinner, Mom.” Casey kissed her cheek and cleared the table.
“Of course, dear. Leave the dishes in the sink, or I’ll have nothing to do tonight.”
Casey smiled at her one more time before heading to the hallway, where he snagged his heather gray hoodie and keys from the wall. “I’m going out. Need me to run any errands?”
“No, sweetheart.” His mom sounded closer than he expected and he turned to find her in the doorway, holding out his composition notebook and pen. He’d almost left without them. He accepted them and bent down to obey when she tapped her cheek for another kiss. “We love you, Casey.”
