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Kelly had been feeling the same way all day. If Chris didn’t want anything more with her than friendship, she shouldn’t push him into it.
“You’re right. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
Rylie’s phone beeped, and she laughed at whatever popped up on her screen. “We might actually need to get the guys now. Dustin said they are both pretty hammered and doing...” She squinted at her screen. “Karate? That can’t be right. Why would they be doing karate at a bar?” Rylie looked up at Kelly with wide eyes. “You don’t think they got into a bar fight, do you?”
“And their fight style of choice was karate? I doubt it. Autocorrect probably just made a mistake and he didn’t notice.” Since Kelly had only had the one small glass, she was fine to drive Chris home. “Let’s go rescue our boys.”
They climbed into Rylie’s car and headed over to Shotguns. The short drive gave Kelly time to prepare herself for seeing Chris, inebriated and possibly mad at her, which would not be a great combination.
When they walked through the door a few minutes later, Kelly covered her mouth in surprise. On the stage with a microphone in his hand was Chris, singing a very bad rendition of “Friends in Low Places.”
Next to him was Dustin, who could at least decently carry a tune.
“I think that text message was supposed to say karaoke,” Kelly said, giggling.
/> Rylie squealed with laughter. “Oh my God. What are they doing?”
“I think they’re singing,” Kelly said.
“It’s awful! Make it stop!”
Chris and Dustin were oblivious to their tone deafness, dancing around the stage like they were Luke Bryan and Jason Aldean rocking the house. When Dustin did a hip thrust, Rylie and Kelly wrapped their arms around each other. They were so weak with mirth they could hardly stand.
The song ended, and the room erupted with applause. Apparently, the more you drink, the more tone deaf you become.
Or their dance moves had scored them extra points.
“Hey, hey, that’s my girl!” Dustin sang into the microphone. He put the mic on the stand and then came down the stairs to meet them at the edge of the crowd. Dustin wrapped Rylie up in a big hug and kissed her soundly on the mouth. “I missed you, sweetheart.”
“I’m sure you did.” She was smiling brightly, her face a mask of happiness only a woman in love could emanate. “You wanna explain what possessed you to get up on stage and shake your rear?”
Dustin waggled his eyebrows. “Chris dared me, and you know I never back down from a dare.”
Rylie’s cheeks turned crimson and Kelly didn’t even want to know what that was about. She was happy for them, though. Rylie had been through the ringer, and although the rest of her friends had thought Dustin was just a douchebag, he’d actually turned out to be a pretty decent guy.
And he obviously loved Rylie, so that was a plus in his pro column.
Chris approached slowly, accepting back slaps and handshakes. The way the crowd was acting, you’d think he’d just won a major award, instead of taking a Garth Brooks classic and butchering it.
Chris stopped in front of her, giving her a sloppy smile, and she almost wished he would pull her into his arms like Dustin had done to Rylie.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.
Well, at least he’s not pissed at me.
“Yeah, I heard you could use a ride home.”
“Why would you want to leave? We could do a duet together—”
“No!” Kelly and Marley said at the same time.
Chris turned to Dustin. “I don’t think they liked our performance.”
“And here I was going to suggest that we take this show on the road with merch,” Dustin said.
“Okay, there will be no D&C merchandise, no music tour, and no more singing…ever.” Rylie kissed Dustin and then patted his cheek. “Let’s get you home and into bed.”
“You take such good care of me.”
