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Chapter Twelve
Nash was really going to do it. He snatched her hand and led her unwillingly away from the booth. He was fulfilling his side of the bargain, so she really had no choice but to go up with him onto the stage. What had she gotten herself into?
“Do you hate singing?” he asked her on his way up to the microphone.
“No.”
“Do you hate singing in front of people?”
“Yes,” she answered just as automatically.
“Do you hate performing because you fear it, or do you hate it because you hate your audience?” The idea made her laugh, but he squeezed her hand as they went up the stairs to the stage. “It’s a serious question. Are you as critical of the people you’re sharing your voice with as you are with yourself?”
She sobered at that. What a fascinating idea. Was she? That would be horrible if so, but what was really in her heart? She supposed that shewascritical of herself, but of other people? Well, if she messed up, she certainly didn’t trust them to be kind. She shrugged. “I think… if I did well at performing then I wouldn’t care at all.”
He put his forehead against hers. “That’s a cop out.” He turned to the kid guarding the karaoke station near the stage. “‘Every Breath You Take.’ Let’s rock the ’80s out of this place.”
Grinning, the teenager put on the song. The familiar guitar plucking started.
Nash didn’t give himself time to worry about what he was doing—he just did whatever came to his mind. Was that the secret to his success? Or was it because absolutely nothing was riding on this?
The sultry music permeated the room, and he pulled out the cordless mic, guiding her to the stool to sit in front of him. “I need my muse,” he said.
“Sure, you do.” He’d make her suffer through this with him. He was right though. Maybe karaoke was just the thing that she needed to relax. Her gaze softened on him. She was touched that he’d go through so much trouble to help her out.
He started the stalker song. Surprisingly, his voice actually wasn’t that bad… well, why wouldn’t it be? His talking voice was always soothing. Hadn’t his smoky, mesmerizing tones put her immediately at ease the moment he’d suggested that they have some fun while she was standing on her brother’s driveway?
His fingers fiddled with hers during the chorus of the song. “Oh, can’t you see? You belong to me,” he sang.
That would sound creepy from anyone else, just like the original, she supposed. His charm wrapped around everything that he did like bacon.
Mmm, bacon. I wonder if the fries are as good as he says.
Nash met her eyes, and all thoughts of food fled her mind as she got lost in the tempest of his blue gaze. His forehead wrinkled with his expression as he sang about how he was watching her. He let the music take over since he didn’t need the lyrics to do exactly as they said.
“You just need to find the joy of performing,” he whispered to her as the swelling instrumental served as his background. “It’s kind of like roping a steer, it’s…” She knew nothing about that and he quickly changed his analogy. “I mean, it’s like dancing with a woman…” His lips tipped up. “… in your case, a man.” He tugged her off the stool and held her close. “You’ve got to let go and feel the music take over… feel the other person in your arms.”
He swayed. She leaned into him, getting lost in his rhythm.
He was taking her into a slow dance… in front of everyone! All four people out there. Goodness! Why was she so self-conscious? She reallydidhave a problem. She stumbled. His eyes found her. “I know why you’re so scared.”
“Why?”
“You’re judgy.”
That wasn’t the first time she’d been called that. She stiffened. “You’ve got me wrong.”
“Not so much of others,” he said, “of yourself. Stop judging yourself, your flow, your style, the music of your soul.” He swung her around, and she met his eyes. “Beautiful, everything about you is beautiful. Can’t you see that?” He dipped her. “Do you feel this?”
What? How much fun she had around Nash? She was beginning to love every moment with him.
“It’s joy,” he said. “You’re feeling the joy of living, of experience, of being present. No one can take that from you—no critic, no narrowing eyes, no murmuring mouths, not anybody.”
He closed his eyes and brought her close to sway to the music. The interesting thing about him was that he really had forgotten their audience completely. His every move was fluid and belonged entirely to him, just like a true rock star. In a way, his self-assured presence reminded her of her brother. They both had this gift, didn’t they?
His arms tightened over her. “Do you like this?”
She let out a laugh. She’d take any distraction from her troubles,butif she were being honest, it was more than that. He was making sense in a strange kind of way. For a moment, she’d blocked out the others in the room, and yet… even as she remembered those teenagers who worked here, she realized that they were excited to hear her, too.
