Read One Kiss: An Apocalyptic Urban Fantasy (Transmissions from The International Council for the Exploration of the Universe., #1) for Free Online Page B

blocking him from my memory.
    Both of the boys stood as I came out. "You look nice," Michael said with a smile.
    "Thanks," I said. He was obviously trying to make me feel good, and I appreciated his effort.
    "Yes, beautiful," Emmanuel said, his voice quiet. I looked over at him and he held my gaze. Something about the way his eyes lingered on me made my throat constrict.
    "Where we headed?" I asked, crossing to the kitchen and filling a glass with water.
    Michael followed me. "There's a parade a friend of mine is in. Should be fun. Want a beer?"
    I gulped down the water and left the empty glass by the sink. "Why not?" I said, turning to Michael with a smile.
    ****
    B y the time we'd biked over to where the parade was supposed to begin I'd finished off a beer and eaten nothing, but I felt good. Michael was charming; he told funny stories about gigs gone wrong and told me my bike was cool. It was an antique Megan had bought me for my birthday the year before; it was bright red with a basket on the front and a big leather seat. I loved it, and the compliment made me feel good.
    As we locked up our bikes I looked over at the small group gathering for the parade. "Not a big showing," I said, eyeing the smattering of people outside of the bar. It was mostly men, what Megan called "green meanies". Green because they were so dirty that their skin and clothing seemed to take on a brown-green tinge. Mean because they got in your face if you didn't give them money when they begged on the street. Megan and I worked the streets when we first arrived—playing and singing, though. I've never worked so hard as that first year in Crescent City. It pissed Megan off when the "green meanies" begged for money without offering anything back.
    "Don't worry, more will join us on the route," Michael said. "Those losers stuck with day jobs don't get off for awhile." He came up next to me and offered another beer. I took it and popped the can open. Michael threw his arm across my shoulders. I could smell him, a mix of body odor from our ride and beer from his breath. His touch warmed my back and I felt hungry again.
    "Hey, Michael?" Emmanuel said from over by his bike. "Can you help me with the lock? It's stuck again."
    Michael sighed, and smiled, giving my shoulder a squeeze before releasing me to go and help Emmanuel. I took a long slug off the beer and tried to shake the emptiness that touching always seemed to engender in my breast.
    "Come on," Michael said once Emmanuel's lock was secured. "We have time for a shot before the parade begins." He led the way to the bar, a single-story building with a door that swung both ways, and tinted windows filled with neon signs for beer brands.
    "Are you hungry?" Emmanuel asked me as we walked into the dark space that smelled of stale cigarettes and spilled beer.
    "Yes," I said, my mouth watering as I looked at him. His shoulders were the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.
    "How about a slice? I'll go grab you one. There is a pretty good place down the block," Emmanuel offered as we reached the bar.
    "Pizza?" Michael said. "The breakfast of champions. I'll take a slice too. Thanks man."
    Emmanuel smiled down at me. "My pleasure," he said.
    "I can come with you," I offered.
    He shook his head. "I'll be right back."
    Michael ordered three shots and another round of beer. "But mine's still full," I said.
    "Finish it up then," Michael countered. He leaned against the bar, his T-shirt rising up showing off his obliques, the muscles defined, skin smooth. My stomach stirred, the hunger rising into a nausea. He pushed the shot in front of me. “A toast" he said, holding up his own shot. "To our band."
    I picked up the glass and clicked it against his. "Yes," I said. "To the band."
    He downed the drink in one go. I tried to follow suit but could only swallow half. My eyes burned and I coughed. "You're alright," he said, waving the bartender over for another round.
    By the time Emmanuel returned with our pizza slices I was