He grabs my jacket from me to place at the back of the bar while I go up to the stage. I notice some stirring among the patrons, some of our regulars and a smile lights up my lips.
Singing doesn’t feel like work to me. It was different. Intimate in a way nothing else in my life ever managed to be.
When I sing, people listen. I watch as men loosen their shoulders after a hard day. Women smile softly into their drinks. Everyone grows quiet like my voice is a magnetic force wrapping around them and keeping the world and their problems at bay for a while.
I love seeing the effect my voice has on people.
The spotlight warms my skin as I sway gently to the music. My fingers curl around the microphone while my voice drifts through the lounge, smooth as silk. The room blurs together and just like the people listening, a magnetic force wraps around me as well.
It’s only at times like this that I ever come close to understanding myself. Feeling like myself. The music pours out of me like second nature. Just as it always has. I open my mouth and sing a soft ballad, straight from the heart. And just like that life has meaning.
I’m only up there singing for about three minutes when the air shifts almost imperceptibly. I’m not really sure how I feel it.
My eyes drift lazily across the lounge as I sing, taking in familiar faces until the front door opens. And then a man walks in and for the first time ever, the lyrics of the song I’m singing get caught in my throat.
It’s only a second. An impossible second where my eyes widen and I forget where I am. I forget the music, forget the people listening. My eyes narrow onto him and him alone.
And he stares right back at me. I can’t tell the color of his eyes from such a distance but I have a feeling they’re dark. A strange chill crawls down my spine.
One I can’t explain.
My mind whirs as I try to understand why a person I can only aptly refer to as the prince of darkness, just walked into the lounge I work at, at the exact same time I’d been baring my soul in a song.
CHAPTER THREE
LILIANA
Somehow, I manage to break the connection. I break eye contact and look away.
Although my pulse stumbles violently beneath my skin, I manage to find the words of the song again. My voice doesn’t waver as I sing, though chaos and confusion unfurl slowly inside my chest.
He’s tall. Broad shoulders stretching against a white button-up with the sleeves rolled carelessly to his forearms, exposing skin inked heavily with tattoos that disappear beneath the fabric. He’s wearing no jacket despite the cold outside and then there’s his face.
He has the type of face women fall hopelessly in love with and sing breakup songs about. The type of face to break hearts and maybe arms while he’s at it.
There’s no missing the darkness swirling in his expression. I might be too far away to see but I imagine it parallels the lack of color in his eyes as well. I notice sharp cheekbones though. Sharp cheekbones and an aura that screams danger in every way possible.
Eventually I look away from him, trying to maintain all my concentration. But my eyes betray me again.
He’s not looking at me anymore. My gaze follows him as he moves through the lounge. Every slow, deliberate step. I can tell his presence has an effect on everyone and not just me. Quiet tension trails behind him like smoke. Men glance up warily before quickly looking away. Women stare for too long but when his gaze lands on them, they balk as well.
Bryan straightens subtly from behind the bar as he approaches. When he reaches there, he slides onto one of the stools, fingers resting lazily against the polished wood. And then suddenly like he can feel my eyes on him, he turns around on the stool.
His dark gaze lifts back to the stage, back to me. His expression utterly unreadable.
My heartbeat turns uneven beneath my ribs. I resolve to look away this time. To finish my song. I close my eyes and let the music take control and then I let go, trying to ignore the tension within my skin and the strange effect this man has on me.
Suddenly my music isn’t a magnetic force encircling me and keeping the world at bay. He’s the magnetic force. And for some reason, I’m impossibly drawn to him.
Unfortunately I can’t stay up on the stage forever. The song comes to an end and I know I have to stand up. He’s still looking at me. I can feel his eyes tracking me. My limbs feel like jelly but I manage to suck in a breath while reminding myself that he’s only a man.
Albeit an imposing one.
I can do this. I walk down the stage and head over to the bar. His eyes are fixed on me as I approach. It sends an electric thrill through me, being the subject of such rapt attention.
A part of me considers ignoring him and just walking behind the bar. But I’m too curious, and I want to know why he keeps staring.
He’s even more impossibly good-looking up close.
