AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Everyone, get excited!” The MC magically appears on the stage, striding toward us. “Our special guest performer is about to take the stage, and you donotwant to miss this!”
I glance over at the MC, scowling at him for interrupting my moment.Themoment I’ve been anticipating since we started planning this party.
“We’ll talk later.” Ian lets go of my hands and heads for the stairs. “It can wait, Scarlett.”
No, it can’t, I want to tell him, but I say nothing. I just watch him go, my chest aching as I stare at his retreating back. I realize quickly that many of the guests are watching me, curiosity in their gazes, and I wonder if my feelings are written all over my face. If I’m that obvious.
Probably, yet the very man I want to notice my feelings is completely oblivious.
Rachel, though? She’s giving me two thumbs up and an enthusiastic grin. I can only smile helplessly at her, my heart threatening to beat itself out of my chest at having so many people watching me.
“You want to stay onstage and meet your first crush face-to-face?” the MC asks me, waggling his brows in an exaggerated manner.
I quickly shake my head, and without answering him, I dart toward the stairs, earning some good-natured laughter. I pick up my skirts and take the steps carefully, stopping short when Rachel rushes toward me, pulling me into a hug and delivering a smacking kiss to my cheek before she pulls away.
“You look absolutely gorgeous. That dress is to die for,” she gushes, her smile wide. “Oh my God, it’s been too long since we’ve gotten together! What, since the weekend we graduated? I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too,” I tell her, meaning every word. She’s good for my ego. For hyping me up, which I totally need tonight.
“Who’s the guest performer, huh? Please tell me your dad reunited One Direction.” Rachel laughs. “Your dad always makes grand plans. That man can make anything happen.”
“It’s not 1D.” I lean in close, my mouth at her ear. “It’s Tate Ramsey.”
“What? Get out,” she breathes, pulling away to stare at me with wide eyes. “Welovedhim back in the day.”
“I know, but isn’t that kind of cringey now? He’s some old, washed-up has-been,” I remind her.
“Old? What is he, twenty-one, twenty-two? I haven’t looked him up in ages, but I’m pretty sure he’s still clean and sober. Which means he’s in his absolute prime.” Her smile turns faintly naughty. “I wouldn’t mind a go at him.”
“Rachel.” I give her a gentle shove, making her laugh. “Stop.”
“I’m serious! Tate was gorgeous. The tousled hair. The soulful gaze. The mischievous smile...”
“All right, Scarlett, are you ready for your special birthday gift?” the MC suddenly asks.
I glance up to find his gaze is just for me.
Rachel elbows me in the ribs, making me jolt. “Answer him,” she whisper-hisses.
“Yes,” I yell at him dutifully.
“Fantastic! All right, here tonight for a special performance is... Mr. Tate Ramsey, the former lead singer of Five Car Pileup!”
The crowd goes absolutely wild, their screams filling the air, which is shocking. Women young and old start hopping up and down, their enthusiastic response genuine when Tate Ramsey himself strides out onto the stage accompanied by one of the band’s most popular songs playing over the speakers. I watch as party guests—mostly women—swarm closer to the stage, their bodies starting to move in tandem when the music starts.
It’s a familiar refrain. A song I immediately recognize and absolutely loved when I was thirteen and in the eighth grade. When I had braces on my crooked teeth and my arms and legs felt too long for my body. I was so awkward it was painful.
My gaze snags on Tate as he walks to the edge of the stage and stops directly in the middle. Rachel wasn’t wrong when she said he was in his prime. He looks even better than he did when he was younger.
And he was so cute back then. The handsome face and bright eyes. Lean body and a sexy smirk always on his face.
The smirk has turned into a genuine smile as he greets the crowd, his deep voice filling the room when he says hello. The women around me seem to swoon all at once, their bodies swaying toward the stage. Toward him.
That smile is still plastered on Tate Ramsey’s face, showcasing the straight white teeth, the dimple denting his left cheek. His hazel eyes sparkle as they sweep over the audience, and I watch as he takes a deep breath, his gaze finding mine, lingering on me as he starts to sing.
The first thing I notice is that his voice is deeper than it used to be. He definitely sounds more mature. And I can’t help but think, as he sings the song that launched Five Car Pileup’s career, that it feels like he’s singing it only to me.
Which should make me uncomfortable, right? Women are shrieking all around me, singing along with the lyrics, with him. Yet he still doesn’t look away from me. He croons into the microphone, his long fingers curled around the handle, flicking his head so the dark-brown hair flopping over his forehead shifts out of his eyes.
