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Right as I’m about to force myself away from them, the announcer calls her name for another round of karaoke. She beams as she jumps up from her seat and the patrons seated around the bar actually cheer when they see her jog onto the stage.
When the music starts, I immediately recognize the song. “Criminal” by Fiona Apple. Not exactly the same tempo as Abba.
I feel my spine stiffen as I watch her clutch the microphone stand with both hands and hug it close to her body. Oh, fuck. I can already tell by the way she’s swaying to the beat that this is going to be difficult to watch. Not because it’s cringey or because her singing is just as bad as it was before, but because my eyes won’t be the only ones devouring my too-sexy-for-her-own-good stepsister.
I don’t look away for even a second as she sings—still badly—while swaying her hips and practically grinding against the microphone stand. The crowd is eating it up, whooping and whistling, and it only encourages her to do it more.
“Is she always like this?” Reese asks from behind me. When I turn toward him, he’s smiling up at the stage, and it’s like ice to my bloodstream.
“Always,” I reply grimly.
He laughs. “She’s quite a girl. I bet there’s never a dull moment.”
I’m watching her as she crawls onto the nearest table with the microphone in her hand, dancing on her knees and making the crowd go crazy. A couple of older ladies jokingly throw dollar bills at her, and she’s laughing her way through the song.
Her singing might be god-awful, but her stage presence is perfection. Those stage lights love her, and she has a natural ability to control a crowd like nothing I’ve ever seen. So a career in music might not be right for her, but Mia belongs on stage.
“Never…” I reply, but when I glance back at Reese, he’s staring down at his phone again.
Fuck this guy. Turning back toward Mia, I watch her finish the song. And when the crowd cheers for her, I cup my hands over my mouth and whoop the loudest. She glances up at me and her eyes twinkle with excitement as our gazes meet.
It’s at this moment that I decide to stop going back and forth with what my body wants. It clearly wants to fuck her. And I guess if that’s what my body wants—and clearly what hers wants too—far be it for me to argue with that kind of persuasion. This new chemistry between us is just physical anyway, so we might as well get it out of our systems. She said she’s been in a dry spell too, so it’s likely just pent-up sexual aggression and a healthy dose of resentment that’s been building for years, but whatever it is, I bet it will make for some out-of-this-world sex.
When she comes back to the table, I stand up to greet her. That douchebag, Reese, isn’t paying attention anyway. So I grab Mia by the waist and pull her toward me. Her eyes widen as I do.
“That was incredible,” I mumble quietly.
“Thank you,” she replies with uncertainty. She must be confused as to why I’m not making fun of her poor singing skills and holding her a little too closely in public.
So I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Leave with me right now.”
Her eyes widen even more at my dark admission, searching my eyes as if she’s trying to confirm what I’m implying. “For what?”
“You know what,” I reply in a deep whisper.
“Can’t you see I’m on a date?”
“No, you’re not. I brought you here.”
“Well, I likehim,” she whispers, and I stare at her in confusion. Ouch.
“No, you don’t. You think that guy could possibly give you what I can?”
She flinches and tries to pull away, but I don’t let her get far. “I already told you, we’re not having this conversation. You’ve teased me enough. I’m done.”
“Mia, stop fucking around,” I mutter, feeling suddenly impatient.
“I think I like seeing you so jealous,” she replies with a wicked grin.
This time, she successfully pulls away, moving back to the table to sit next to Reese.
“We need shots,” I mutter as I flag down the waitress, ordering a pitcher of beer and a round of Fireballs, which Reese actually takes this time.
The rest of the night feels like a blur. She sings a couple more songs. I’m her loudest and most obnoxious supporter whilefucking Reesecontinues to pay minimal attention, only giving her his time when she’s back at the table.. At one point, I turn around to find him with his arm around her, whispering something in her ear that has her smiling.
Suddenly I know what a territorial dog feels like when someone encroaches on their property, touching what is theirs. I have to bite back the urge to snarl as I glare at them. But what right do I have to say anything? Mia is not mine; I have no intention of making her or anyone mine. So why should I steal her chance at happiness for my own stubborn pride?
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I mumble, although neither of them hear me. I resign myself to leaving while I’m at the urinal, ready to put away my selfishness, regardless of how drunk I am and how badly I want to stay.
