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“The student became the master.”
Her eyes following Jason’s performance across the stage. “He wasn’t lying about the karaoke. Is he…really going to take off his shirt?”
“Yeah. He’s a performer.”
God, she looks beautiful. The deep green of her dress brings out the color of her eyes. She pulled her dark hair back in a messy braid, like it was something she whipped together while running out the door. Something about the rawness of her look right now strikes a chord in me.
Maria comes over, and the two women greet each other. “Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year! Where is Diego?”
“With his aunt. What can I get you?”
“A pinot noir, please.”
“Put it on my tab,” I tell Maria.
“Thanks.” Kenzi’s gaze turns back to Jason. He’s in the grand finale, and he’s got half the bar on their feet, singing along with him. His charisma is infectious. Despite herself, a smile reaches her eyes. “God, he’s something, isn’t he?”
“He is that.” I side-eye her. “Are you going to sing one?”
She raises her eyebrows at me. “Me? No way. I still have the worst stage fright.”
“Do you still write?”
At that question, she looks at me blankly. “What?”
“Your music.”
She blinks and then says, “No one’s asked me about that in a while. Uh…no. Not really. I guess other things just…took precedence.”
“You should get back into it,” I say, and she scoffs, so I press, “It was really good.”
“For a teenager.”
“For anyone.”
There’s that smile, a little of Kenzi’s old mischief trickling back in. “Hey,” she says, “thank you for my present.”
“Good, huh?”
She smiles. A secret smile that makes my blood rush.
“Very,” she says.
“Good. Now I know what to get for White Elephant next year.”
She laughs at that. All at once, it hits me in the chest—Jason wasn’t the only one waiting on pins and needles for her to show up. I’m glad she’s here.
“Kenzi!” Jason finishes his set and practically barrels through the crowd to get to her. Her back goes stiff when he approaches, and he comes to a halt in front of her, hair slightly mussed from his performance, big, dopey grin on his mouth. He took off his shirt during the performance, and now it hangs in his hand. His muscles practically glisten with the light sweat. “Fuck, you look good,” he says, which is when I realize I wish I’d told her that.
“Thanks,” she says. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. I can tell she’s trying to look anywhere but his bare chest.
“Is Otto here?”
“He had a long day. Went to bed early.”
“What’s the saying? When the mice are asleep or something?” He waves over Maria. “Let me get you a drink.”
