Wrecked Book 2 by Rachel Hanna Page A

’ s assessment of him hadn ’ t really done him justice. Coming from his sister, they were pretty good, but I could see instantly why all of Kass ’ s female friends said he was attractive. He was tall and fit, not muscular like a body builder or anything, but clearly someone who enjoyed doing things rather than sitting on the sidelines as a spectator. His brown hair hung over his forehead, nearly into his eyes, but it was a short cut, stylish, but not high maintenance.
    We were too far from the stage for me to see his features as clearly as I might have liked. Like his eyes. I would have liked to have gotten a better idea of what his eyes were. As it stood, I couldn ’ t even tell their color.
    He was setting up for his number, fiddling with the mic and then the guitar he brought with him on stage. After a bit, two other guys joined him. One went to the drum set that was already there, ready and waiting, while the other carried what looked like a different type of guitar.
    Leaning over to Kass, I whispered, “ He ’ s pretty cute. No Brad Pitt or anything, but cute. ”
    She laughed at me, answering, “ I ’ ll take it. And I hope you know, I ’ m totally going to tell him you think he ’ s not as hot as Brad Pitt. ”
    I shoved her arm playfully, smiling. “ Whatever. I ’ ll tell him you said to take him down a peg or two. ”
    She shrugged, uncaring. “ Not the worst thing I ’ ve ever said about him. ” She thought about it. “ Or to him for that matter. ”
    I rolled my eyes.
    Our banter died down as they quit testing and got the audience ’ s attention. Kass ’ s brother tapped the mike, and said, “ We ’ re here tonight, because no matter how many bars we ’ ve played at, Bella Luna ’ s still our favorite. ” The crowd clapped, some people giving small cheers and whoops of agreement. After a moment, he winked and added, “ It ’ s definitely the food. ” They laughed with him and I realized he was a bit of a regular.
    Leaning over, I asked Kass, “ How often does he play here? ”
    She shrugged. “ They used to play here all the time. But they started to get a bit of a following, so they went on tour for a while. Nothing major. Just opening for a few bands, playing at this bar and that. Never made much money off of it, but they ’ ve got some loyal fans out there. ”
    I was impressed. I had figured that they were going to be little more than a garage band playing at a bar because that ’ s the only place that would let them.
    After a moment, Kass ’ s brother and his band — I didn ’ t catch their name — began to play. As I listened, I decided that I could understand why they had developed a following. And why it wasn ’ t that big.
    They were pretty good, their lyrics a little dry, but catchy. The sound was decent, not bad to listen to, though something I thought that easily got lost in the background. It was like listening to a song by a famous band, but one of the songs that just never really got popular.
    Good, but not all that memorable.
    They played several songs, the crowd enjoying all of them, though I had a feeling that was more about their loyalty to a local group than anything else.
    Kass and I ordered some drinks as we listened, Kass ’ s alcoholic, mine decidedly not. We chatted a little between songs and sometimes during, laughing and just having a good time. It had been so long since I ’ d just enjoyed myself like this that I ’ d nearly forgotten what it felt like.
    After several songs, the band thanked the crowd for being awesome and then bowed out. When they left, the speakers began pumping generic music through the speakers, low key and professional. After a few minutes, I spotted Kass ’ s brother saying something to his bandmates near the door. They ducked out, but he remained, scanning the crowd. It didn ’ t take long for him to spot our table.
    Grinning, he came over to us. “ Hey there, little sister! ” he greeted, opening his arms wide for a