AllFreeNovel
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Another round of applause, and an older man stands. He’s in jeans and a gray hoodie sweatshirt repping the local 4-H group. After moseying up to the stage, he climbs the steps and raises the microphone to mouth level.
“Howdy. What’s up?” Frank waves at the bar, and a group of ladies in the corner whoops and hollers for him. He’s clearly a regular.
The familiar tune rings out from the speakers on either side of the stage, and Frank breaks out into song. He’s a decent singer—on key, and he even has a few dance moves. The crowd gets into it, clapping along and stomping their feet, and when the song ends, everyone cheers.
“Great job, Frank. Way to kick us off right. Up next is Sylvie.”
One of the women from the moms’ night out sashays up, loosening her hair as she climbs the steps. A curtain of jet-black hair falls around her shoulders, and she flips it once before lifting the mic from the stand.
Another karaoke regular.
“Sylvie’s back, and she’s performing Aretha Franklin’s ‘A Natural Woman.’”
Sylvie’s friends clap and cheer, the spotlight beaming down on her as she starts to sing. She has a great voice, hitting all the right notes, and I’m relieved I didn’t sign up. No way do I want to follow her performance.
As I sip my tequila, King’s hand rests on my upper thigh. His thumb rubs up and down over the denim, shooting pulses of excitement through me. I glance over at him, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the fine lines around his eyes and mouth. My heart squeezes when his gaze slides to mine, his lips curving up in a slight smile.
A smile meant just for me.
I’ve lived almost half my life waiting for this. Wanting this.
Wanting him.
Even more, wanting us.
His hand inches higher up my leg, and I’m on fire for this man, my core aching. I peek at my watch, wondering if it’s too early to cut out. I desperately want to be alone with King.
“Next up to the stage is Juliet!”
I freeze, the heat in my body turning icy real quick.
“What?” My eyes widen as I stare at King, a smirk on his stupid handsome face. “You didn’t!”
“I did.” He tips his beer back, taking a long, slow sip.
“No. I’m not going.”
“C’mon, Juliet!” Delaney grabs my hand. “It’ll be fun. King told us you love to sing.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head no, resist the strong urge to cover my face with my hands.
“You totally can! We’ll go with you.” Delaney drags me out of my seat, along with an equally protesting Bree.
“Delaney, I cannot sing. Not like these other people.”
“Pshaw. I’m sure you’re amazing.” She pushes us both toward the stage. My legs are like lead pipes buried in concrete—the only way she gets me up there is sheer brute force.
Delaney’s stronger than she looks.
Now the three of us stand in the hot beam of the spotlight. Tequila’s churning in my gut, and I push down a wave of nauseous panic.
“Ladies, are we still good with ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun’?” The DJ directs his question to Delaney, the unofficial leader, I guess.
Delaney nods, but I grip her elbow and lean in toward her, away from the microphone.
“Delaney—mind if we switch songs? That one’s harder than you think.”
She raises her brow. “Sure. What are you thinking?”
