The beat drops, and Luke grins. “I hopped off the plane at L.A.X….”
The entire bar explodes into laughter as Luke and his team fully commit to “Party in the USA,” complete with a dance move that vaguely resembles twerking but should be illegal.
Addison has tears in her eyes from laughing so hard. She sways to the song but pulls her phone out and starts recording.
“What’s that for?” I ask, leaning in toward her.
“For posterity,” she says, still laughing. “And evidence for his wife.”
Luke’s performance is hysterical, but I can’t stop smiling watching her. She’s so full of pure, unfiltered joy.
After that, it’s an endless cycle of players jumping on stage to perform. The rookies all get up and do some One Direction song.
After that, Carlos grabs the mic and performs a wildly off-key rendition of “Livin’ la Vida Loca,” complete with pelvic thrusts and a stage dive that has me yelling at him not to hurt himself for the season.
Then Sebastian, with his never-ending flair for drama, walks slowly to the stage like he’s entering a title fight.
He closes his eyes, clutches the microphone to his chest like it’s a long-lost lover, and belts out “My Heart Will Go On” like he’s on stage in Vegas.
Brennan is practically wheezing laughing, especially as Sebastian goes full Titanic mode and recreates the flying scene with Carlos in his arms. Harry stands to the side of the stage playing an imaginary penny whistle.
Addison doubles over, laughing. “This is amazing,” she gasps. She pulls out her phone again and flicks the flashlight on, creating the effect of a lighter, and sways back and forth. The team follows, and Carlos pretends to sob while Sebastian drops to his knees on the bridge.
And I’m just watching her. The way she laughs, the way she clutches my arm like she might fall over from giggling too much.
As the song wanes, Sebastian dramatically lets Carlos’ hand go. “I’ll never let go, Carlos. I’ll never let go,” he whispers into the microphone.
“Addison!” Luke yells, still crying from laughter. “Your turn!”
She’s laughing, but shaking her head and frantically waving her arms no. Her face turns red but the lads aren’t backing down. They start chanting her name, and she turns to me like she wants my help.
I hit her with the same move she used on me earlier—my best puppy dog eyes. I tilt my head a little, just for an added flair. “Please?” I say softly. “For me?”
Her eyes narrow, like she knows exactly what I’m doing. “Touché, Captain.” She sighs, muttering something, and heads toward the stage. The lads cheer as she takes the microphone.
“Alright, alright,” she says, turning toward us. “Thanks for the peer pressure, guys. Appreciate it.” She pauses for a moment, like she’s thinking about her song choice. “Well, I’ve been having a very nice time here in London, so let’s go with a British singer, shall we?"
Her eyes flick to mine and hold. My chest tightens before she even opens her mouth.
But then the opening chords of “Make You Feel My Love” flow through the speakers and she starts singing.
And it isn’t like someone goofy or drunk performing for a laugh. Addison sings like she’s offering a piece of herself with every note. Her voice is full, rich, and makes me ache in every corner of my body I’ve ignored.
Everyone quiets when all the lads realize Addison can actually sing—like something real cutting through the noise of the bar. She sings with her eyes closed, one hand held against her stomach like it’s keeping her steady, like she feels every word of the song deep in her bones.
But when she hits the chorus, her gaze lifts, and her eyes find mine.
And I’m gone.
Fuckinggone.
25
first touch
LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO BY HOZIER
The night’s winding down. Most of the team is figuring out Ubers and slipping out the back door, their voices hoarse from laughing.
