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Good grief.
“Don’t look at me like that,” says Cas. “The answer is yes. You’re an exceptionally good singer and you should be kicking the ass of every drunk in this room right now.”
“Dude, you are taking this way too seriously.”
“And you’re deflecting,” he says, surveying the room lazily before looking back at me.
I’m not especially phobic or anxious or whatever, but the thought of getting up there and performing in front of all these people has me feeling like I need to make a break for the bathroom, stat. Stage fright is a thing.
Cas scans the room, though nobody’s come in or left since the last time he checked out his prospects.
“You here to meet somebody?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Cas rolls his eyes. “Never hurts to look,” he says. “Not that you’d know anything about that.”
“Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
The next singer picks up the mic before we get any more mature. Casimir Lohr has been my best friend since middle school. Apparently, some things never change, including our sense of humor.
Several singers and a couple more drinks later, Cas bumps me with his elbow.
“Maybe you just need to work up to it,” he says, jerking his chin at the stage.
“That’s not a bad idea,” I say, my cheeks heating. It’s embarrassing, but putting myself out there is just… hard to imagine.
Besides going out for the diving team in high school, I’ve never tried out for anything at all. Decent grades came easy enough. Girls, too, though I didn’t have all that much experience to go on.
“You’re blushing,” says Cas, elbowing me again and bringing me back to the present.
“Hot in here,” I say. He snorts.
“So, baby steps,” says Cas. “If karaoke is something to work up to, what are you going to do in the meantime? I have suggestions.”
“I bet you do,” I say, laughing.
“Like that girl over there,” he says, ignoring my laughter. He tips his head toward the bar. A cute blonde is sitting there, looking right at me. She smiles when our eyes meet.
“Baby steps,” I say, looking back down at my drink. Cas sighs.
“You can’t hide forever, Raleigh.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“The hell you’re not,” he says. “What about a guy instead?”
I promptly inhale half my beer.
“Excuse me?” I say, still coughing. Cas shrugs.
“You’re not interested in taking a chance on that girl, despite the fact that she’s been checking you out since she got here half an hour ago. So I’m asking, would you rather find a guy to talk to?”
“I’m straight,” I say, confused as to how we got here, conversationally speaking.
“You say that like it’s a permanent thing,” Cas mutters. Before I can process that nugget, he keeps going. “I’m just saying, you need to put yourself out there. You’re a good-looking guy, there’s literally no reason you shouldn’t be getting some as often as you want it.”
“Aw, you think I’m cute, Cas?” I say, leaning into his shoulder and batting my eyes up at him. “I think you’re cute, too.”
