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A flip switches inside me from an old friend looking to catch up to what I can only suspect is some warped form of jealousy. I have no claim over her, but that doesn’t stop me from hurrying over, never taking my eyes off her as I approach. She’s even more beautiful than I remember. Her hair isn’t cut short but hangs just past her shoulder blades. She’s filled out nicely into soft curves that have my dick twitching with excitement.
The ratty tennis shoes and cut-off shorts I remember she practically lived in that last summer I lived with her family are nowhere to be found. Instead, she’s wearing a long dress, but the fabric is almost sheer over her shapely legs. And I’m not the only man in the vicinity to notice.
I lay my hand on her lower back, “Hey, stranger.” I say into her ear.
She turns around, and a huge smile spreads across her face.
“Alec!” Devrie says before launching herself into my arms. The floral scent of lilacs in her hair reminds me of the old lilac tree that grew behind her house.
I laugh and hold her tight as she giggles. Clearly, she’s already started in on the two-for-one margaritas from the stand nearby. The other guy—her admirer—doesn’t appear very happy that I’ve shown up, based on the scowl on his face. This only prompts me to hold her longer than necessary. I’m happy to let this guy think whatever he wants.
“I can’t believe you actually came.”
“Of course, I came.” I set her down and reluctantly let her go. “I told you I’d be here.”
A throat clears, and we both turn to the guy.
“I’m sorry, that’s so rude of me. Carl, this is an old family friend, Alec.” She points to me, then turns and introduces him as her co-worker.
Ouch. I almost feel bad for the guy not even to be friend-zoned by her. He will forever and always be her co-worker.
Carl shakes my hand, making sure to grasp it tight to attempt to show take back some of his perceived territory of the situation. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” I smile and squeeze back. His forced smile falters slightly from my grip.
“I’m going to go and get another beer. Devrie, can I get you another margarita?”
She smiles and says no before turning her full attention to me. I almost feel bad for the guy as he walks off in a huff—almost.
We sit down and start catching up. It’s amazing how even with all the years that have passed between us, it’s easier to talk to her than most of the people in my life.
Devrie tells me about some of her time in college and how it was hard for her to admit to her mom and Denny that she didn’t want to move back home after she graduated. She tells me a little about her roommate and how she’s trying to get Denny to assist Landry with her thesis project, but he claims that he’s too busy to help out.
“More like he’d rather spend his time off fishing,” I say.
Devrie grabs my arm. “That’s exactly what I said!”
There’s no denying the spark I feel when she touches me. But I can’t tell if she feels it too. The nagging guilt in the pit of my stomach is a constant reminder that I can’t let this go any further than checking up on her. I promised I’d look out for her, not make out with her. But her lips look so soft…
Eventually, more of her co-workers start gathering around the table with us, and people start putting their names on the list to sing. I’d already resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t be making a fool of myself on the stage tonight, but my possessiveness has other plans.
“I want to sing, but I need a duet partner,” she says to the table.
“I’ll sing with you,” I say before Carl can even swallow the swig of beer he just took and can volunteer.
Devrie’s bright eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t say anything. I think she thinks if she does, she might jinx it. But I can’t go back now, even if I want to run screaming in the other direction. Instead, I let her grab my hand and pull me to the DJ, where she picks a song for us to sing.
I groan under my breath when I hear her tell the DJ what song she wants. I’m a horrible singer and hate watching other bad singers think they’re rock stars. I can’t believe I put myself in this situation, but the pure joy on her slightly tipsy face makes it worth it.
We get up and sing the Sonny and Cher classic, “I Got You Babe.” The crowd goes wild for our terrible and off-cue rendition. We are so bad that the audience starts to rally for the two misfit singers making complete jackasses of themselves on the stage. I’m a little relieved that she isn’t the best singer either. I’d hate to be the albatross around her neck during this performance.
The song finally ends, and we walk off stage to cheers and laughter. Devrie runs back out for another bow. The cheers of the audience turn to laughter as I grab her around the waist and carry her off the stage as she waves to her adoring fans. I set her down at the bottom of the steps, and we both break out into laughter.
“You’re a horrible singer,” she pokes me in the chest.
“Oh, as if you were any better,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her close. “I think you invented new keys up there.”
Our laughter dies down when her gaze meets mine. It’s as if the rest of the world melts away around us, and it’s just the two of us standing there.
