Author: Helena Newbury
Publisher: Foster & Black New Adult
Publication Date: September 21, 2013
People think that actors must be cruel- they are effectively the cool kids, after all, so it follows that they'd bully the geeks- the musicians. But they don't look down on us so much as wrinkle their perfect foreheads and wonder why we can't just be calm and confident and outgoing like them - as if it was that easy. I got a few pitying expressions and two of them walked over to help.
At that moment, someone opened the door from the outside and I went stumbling backwards- right off the edge of the top step. Dragged down by the cello's weight, I fell with a surprisingly loud scream, my head heading for the sidewalk-
I snapped to a halt, the cello case pressing hard into my back. I was lying in mid air, face up, feet skittering at the top step. Almost of all my weight was held by one shoulder strap, stretched out in front of me and anchored by....
I followed the strap with my eyes. A fist, grabbing the nylon. A strong wrist, skim almost as pale as mine. A cracked leather jacket. I got all the way to the shoulder and his tight powerful frame before it clicked.
I looked up into his face. Blue- gray eyes, like a lazy summer's day that's darkening into a storm. Hair cut short and messy, glossy black against his pale skin. And the lips- those soft, full lips that had been the downfall of so many Fenbrook girls in dowtown rock clubs or at drug-fuled parties. Even now, they were twisting into a smirk.
"I seem to have you helpless," he told me, and his broad Belfast accent made it sound at once both innocent and absolutely filthy. The actors who'd been coming to help reached the doorway and stopped there, smiling.
"Would you like me to you down on your back?" he asked, at least partially for their benefit. "Or should I pull you up against me?"
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