AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“As you know, ladies and gents, this is a live music event. We have something very special for you this evening. A love song to fit the mood – a perfect Valentine’s ballad – performed by an up-and-coming artist. Please welcome to the stage, Lola Fitzgerald.”
“Go,” Liam says, smoothing his hands down to my hips and squeezing me tantalizingly. “Before I change my mind and fuck you right here instead.”
A shiver runs through me, lust as hot as lava. I’m actually tempted to take him up on his offer, just mount him right here and start grinding against him like I did earlier today.
He smirks, reading me like he always can, and then grabs me by the hips and turns me bodily toward the walkway.
“Go, Lola,” he growls. “If there’s one thing I’m always going to do, is push you to follow your dreams. You can do this. You’re so goddamn talented. It’s time for the world to see it.”
I nod, trying to bolster myself. My legs feel impossibly shaky as I walk out from the darkened walkway to the impossible brightness of the stage. The lights shine starkly on me, harsh whiteness making my eyes ache.
I wince into the spotlight as I walk across the stage, my heels seeming to make all the noise in the world.
Click-click-click.
I head toward the microphone stand.
Hidden is packed tonight. Red streamers unfurl from the ceiling and big love-red Valentine’s balloons jostle for space between them. Cupid fountains are dotted around the venue, firing jets of red water from the ends of their arrows. I can’t help but glow inside when I think about how Liam and I arranged all of this together.
More than half the people here are wearing Valentine’s-red clothes.
“Hello,” I say, cringing when my voice bounces and echoes all around me.
Kayley might say I’m talented. Liam might say it, too.
But these people don’t care about that.
They’ve stopped their dancing and they’re waiting to be entertained, or moved, or inspired.
Or something.
“My name is Lola Fitzgerald,” I murmur, scanning the crowd for Liam.
My eyes pass over countless faces. I see scorn in all their eyes, in the twisted smiles on their lips. Even if I know, intellectually, that I’m probably just projecting, that doesn’t change the racing panic that surges through me.
“I’m going to be singing ‘Stolen by Your Love’ this evening. I’m sure many of you will be able to relate. Okay …”
I clear my throat, the sound absurdly loud in the microphone. I feel like my heart could climb up my throat and come tumbling out of my mouth.
My fingers begin to pluck the strings as though on autopilot, the strategically-placed mic carrying the sound all around the club. The music sounds smooth and practiced, and I’m gratified when I notice a few people start to bob their heads.
I spot Liam just before the first verse starts, standing at the bar with his eyes fixated on me. A subtle smirk plays at his lips, pride flitting across his eyes.
I can do this.
I think I can really do this.
Oh my God, I’m going to do this.
I open my mouth to begin the first verse, letting my voice carry, riding the song as much as the song rides me. At first, it’s terrifying and I’m sure my voice is going to falter. But somehow I get through the first verse without stuttering or forgetting the words.
People are dancing now.
They’re actually dancing, swaying from side to side.
“And he took all the blame,” I sing, raising my voice, but not too much. I want to save the punky screaming for the end. “He drove me insane. But again and again, he pretends that he can be tamed.”
I stare into Liam’s eyes as I sing, everything becoming blurry as tears rise in my eyes.
I’ll never be able to fully tame Liam. He’ll always be a little wild, a little savage.
But I wouldn’t want him any other way.
I want a man who can protect me from the Quinn Lineman’s of the world.
“I cried and I raged,” I sing, voice warbling, but not in a bad way.
Somebody takes out their cellphone and turns on the flashlight, holding it up the same way people do at concerts. I almost gasp and mess up the words when more and more people follow suit, the crowd becoming a sea of glistening flashlights and phone screens.
“And he broke off my chains and I soak all the pain in hope and champagne,” I rage. I rock and I roll. I don’t give a damn.
The second verse flows easier and people start bobbing their heads and pumping their hips. I feel as if some force has taken me over, an entity that doesn’t have to be afraid or anxious all the time.
I start bobbing my head. My hair flies around my face. I strum the guitar harder, more aggressively.
