Page 16 of Hard Rock Temptation
KAYLEE
Ithought I’d known what to expect, walking into Micah’s apartment for the first time. After all, we’d lived together for years, first in a cramped apartment and then later in a sprawling mansion. I knew the guy inside out.
Or so I thought.
Instead of sparse, clean lines with black and white furniture and an open concept living space, I was treated to a warm, cozy atmosphere. His bevy of floor and desk lamps emitted light with a yellowish tinge, not in a dingy way but in a welcoming, almost hobbit-hole kind of way. His furniture was dark brown and cream, with plush cushions. The picture frames on the wall were mahogany and held photos of his parents and the band throughout the years. I caught a glimpse of my eleven-year-old self, big grin, frizzy hair and all.
Walking into the place gave me the same sensation as wrapping myself up in a fleece blanket in front of the fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa on a snowy day.
“You look surprised,” Micah said as he took out two mugs for coffee from the galley kitchen. I wasn’t a coffee addict like Anya, but I did need my twice daily caffeine boost.
“What happened to your Nordic sense of minimalism?” I demanded.
“I was only into minimalism because we had no money,” he said, chuckling.
“What about your room at the mansion?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It didn’t seem worth the effort to decorate one room when I had the entire place to hang out in. I only went to my bedroom to sleep.”
I continued to look around the living room, taking it all in. As comfy as the place made me feel, an itchy, uncomfortable sensation welled up in my chest. Did I not know Micah as well as I thought I did? What other unexpected aspects of his personality had I missed over the years?
“The place is cute,” I said.
Micah turned around from filling the mugs with coffee.
“Cute?” he repeated.
“Homey, then,” I rolled my eyes.
I wandered around the living room, inspecting all the little knick-knacks and tchotchkes I remembered from throughout the years. I hadn’t realized he’d kept them all. Some of them had fond memories attached to them. I picked up a small miniature of a bull that Finn had given him as a gag gift.
“Remember that week when you kept sayingtake the bull by the hornsover and over again?” I asked.
Micah chuckled. “I know, you all hate it when I use clichés.”
“Get a thesaurus, that’s all I’m saying,” I replied.
There was a pause.
“I heard you told Chris the same thing,” he said.
There was a tightness in Micah’s voice. I knew exactly what it was. The guy might try to play it cool all the time, but I’d learned to see right through him.
“Chris is just as bad at lyrics as you,” I replied easily as I examined his bookshelf. “I think he has potential, though.”
“You liked working with him, then?” Micah asked.
“I sure did,” I said. “He’s not a raging egomaniac who thinks everyone should go along with everything he says.”
“I’m not—” Micah began to protest.
“Don’t worry,” I cut in. “I learned to shut that down ages ago.” I threw him a cheeky grin over my shoulder. “Now you’re only a slight egomaniac.”
“Gee, thanks,” Micah mumbled.
It was just teasing, really. Micah was one of the few members of the band who didn’t have an overinflated sense of self. He was the steady one, the one with his head firmly on his shoulders. Maybe that was why we’d always got along so well. He was the counterpoint to my fanciful enthusiasm and chipper attitude.
“I’ve got a few things I want to work on.” I went to the sofa and sank down into the soft cushions, tucking my legs underneath me after pulling my notebook and pencil out of my bag. “You know that thing we were working on a while ago?” More than sixmonths ago, but I left it unsaid. “The one with the key change at the end and the sick bass line?”
