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“Seriously, Al? This is where you want to go?” Devyn asked in bewilderment. “This place is a dive.”
“It’s not even a dive,” Kiera said. “It’s a pit.” To emphasize her point, she shuffled from foot to foot. The gross sucking noise of the bottoms of her shoes sticking to whatever was on the ground sent a shiver down all our spines. But I was determined.
“Look, I know this place isn’t much, but they have a live band and five dollar wells for the ladies. I don’t know about you, but I’m broke as shit.”
The check I’d written for my rent earlier that week had eaten most of the lousy paycheck I received for waiting tables part time while I tried to make a living as a dancer. Nashville wasn’t exactly the hub for that kind of thing, but it cost money to get to LA, and it was taking a lifetime for me to save enough for the trip.
My friends let out defeated sighs but followed after me as I pulled the door open and stepped inside. The place was dim, and not in an intentional way, but in a bulbs-burned-out-and-we-didn’t-bother-replacing-them way.
If the floor outside was sticky, it was nothing compared to inside. Each step felt like my foot was being suction-cupped to the floor. We headed for the bar, and I tried not to let the grizzled, beer-bellied bartender freak me out as I placed my drink order. The booze they offered was rot-gut, but it was cheap and it would get the job done.
I sucked back a sip of my vodka tonic, trying my hardest to play it cool and not wince at the terrible taste of the bottom-shelf vodka as I twisted on a torn vinyl stool to face the tiny excuse of a stage.
I’d go just about anywhere for good music, and I’d heard the singer in this band was something else. As soon as he stepped onto that stage, I knew why.
Everything from his thick midnight hair to his chiseled jaw and prominent cheekbones held me captive. Those eyes, the deep green reminding me of a forest floor, scanned the room as he smiled, straight white teeth accentuated by a sexy-as-hell dimple in his right cheek.
He was tall, so damn tall, his figure imposing on that tiny stage. There was a magnetism to him that made the other members of the band fade into the background. The way his biceps strained the fabric of his faded tee as he held the acoustic guitar in front of him made my mouth water. Those long, nimble fingers plucking at the strings, making the cords in his forearms tense and strain, had me imagining what else those hands would be good at.
But then his mouth opened and he started to sing, and my god, it took my breath away. The sound that man produced was out of this world. If he’d been nearly impossible not to watch before, the moment he started singing guaranteed I’d spend the rest of my night under his spell.
As one song bled into another, it was just him and me. I was so mesmerized I forgot everything around me. Where I was, who I was with. My friends had dissolved into vapor. They could have left, abandoning me in this hole in the wall all on my own and I wouldn’t have given a damn.
When those deep green eyes landed on me, I could have sworn he felt the same way I felt. I had to tell myself I was imagining things. He probably didn’t even notice me. Only, when their first set ended and they went on a break, he hopped off the stage and started right in my direction.
He stopped at the stool beside me, that dimple of his pressing deep as he grinned. His voice was just as sexy as it had been coming through the microphone as he said, “Hey. I’m Roan.”
I took his offered hand, sparks of electricity shooting throughout my entire body at that one simple touch. It was as if I’d reached out and grabbed hold of a fallen powerline.
“Alma,” I returned, feeling my cheeks heat as the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on scanned every inch of my face. I’d always been an outgoing person, but something about Roan made me feel downright shy. And I kind of liked it.
“Alma,” he said softly, like he was testing my name out on his tongue, and damn if that wasn’t sexy too. God, everything about this guy was ticking off every one of my boxes. “Pretty name. Can I buy you a drink, Alma?”
“Sure?”
He signaled the bartender, ordering me a refill and himself a beer. Once we had our drinks in hand, he swiveled on his stool to face me full on, bracing one forearm on the bar and the other on the back of my seat. I felt completely surrounded, but instead of it freaking me out, it made me feel safe, secure. “So, Alma.”ManI loved the way he said my name. “What brings a gorgeous woman like you to a shitty bar like this?”
The heat under my skin grew more intense, and I knew without having to look that I was probably blushing from the roots of my hair all the way down to the tips of my toes.
My mouth curved up in a smile so large I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep it in check. “I heard the band that played here was really good. Wanted to see for myself.”
That dimple dug in even deeper, and the smile he gave me just then caused a burst of flutters to come to life deep in my belly. “And? What did you think? We live up to the hype?”
“The singer did, at least,” I answered honestly. The truth was, he didn’t just outshine the rest of the guys with his commanding presence, but with his talent too. The way he sang, the passion that dripped from his honeyed-whiskey voice and oozed from his pores, was leaps and bounds better than the people playing with him.
If I’d offended him, he didn’t show it. In fact, he seemed pleased by my answer, making those flutters that much stronger.
“So, this singer... did he impress you enough that you’d be willing to give him your number if he asked?”
A giggle worked its way up my throat. “I think I might let him talk me into it. That is, if he’s as charming in person as he is up on that stage.”
Roan leaned in even closer. “Oh, he can be, Freckles.” He reached up to drag the tip of his finger down the bridge of my nose. “If there’s something worth laying the charm on for, he absolutely can be. And something tells me you’re more than worth it.”
* * *
I shook myself out of the memory, forcing my mind to return to the present. I blinked, looking around the living room at my friends, my family. They were all hanging on every word I’d just spoken, silently waiting for more.
“It was like a wildfire from there, the way our relationship took off. We couldn’t get enough of each other. Within weeks, he was living in my apartment, and even then, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I don’t know how to explain it,” I confessed quietly. “It was like this bone-deep obsession, like we were in each other’s blood. We sharedeverything. It was just the two of us against the world. We fought like any young couple struggling to get by, but even when we fought, I wouldn’t have given up on him for anything. He was going to be a famous musician, and I was going to be the most popular dancer in the city.
