Page 29 of You & I, Rewritten

After catching the eye of the handsome but grungy bartender, she leans forward, lingering slightly as she whispers our order of whatever concoction she thinks will be strong enough to get any of us on stage. Within minutes, the bartender has prepared two small serving trays of drinks for us—one of mixed drinks, one of shots.Both are equally mysterious.I settle our tab and we each take a tray as we carefully head through the throngs of people to where Dean and Graham are waiting for us.

“Alright, boys—” Klair says as we place the trays of liquid courage in front of our handsome dates. She grabs a shot, and we all follow her lead, raising our glasses together ceremoniously.

“Cheers…I praythisgoes down better than what’s about to happen next,” she says before downing the shot and slamming it back down onto the table. Raising my own glass to my lips, I give her an inquisitive look which she dismisses with a shrug of her shoulders. She’s up to something. Per usual.

“Let’s give a warm welcome to our next performers…” The DJ’s voice booms throughout the crowd as I struggle to swallow whatever the hell was just in my glass. “It appears that we’ve got a dynamic duo up next…put your hands together for Dean Adams and Teddy Graham!” A boisterous round of applause erupts around us. If only I had my camera present to capture the range of emotions making their way acrossTeddy Graham’sface because it is priceless.

Extreme confusion followed by immediate disdain to the idea. So much so that I can feel the tension radiating off his body as we all slowly turn our heads toward Klair who’s now innocently sipping on her cocktail and doing a very poor job averting her gaze.

“I mean, it would be rude of usnotto do this, right?” Dean asks in Graham’s direction. He’s clearly unbothered by most things in life and I get the sense he’d doanythingif it would make Klair smile.

“You can’t be serious.” Graham’s tone is laced with anxiety but there is a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Dean extends a fist to Graham. “Come on, dude…we’re in this together. I’ve got the perfect song!”

Oh. My. Gosh.Is this happening? I shoot Graham a sympathetic glance, desperately hoping he knows he doesn’t have to do anything he isn’t comfortable with—even though I’m secretly shaking with excitement at the idea of Graham awkwardly rocking out on stage.

Graham leans in, his lips nearly brushing mine and everything else fades away. Between the burn of the liquor and the infectious energy of everyone around us, my head begins to spin at his sudden closeness.

“Youwillbe making this up to me,” he says against my lips, pulling away when he knows I clearly want more and firmly bumping Dean’s fist with his own. “Let’s get this over with.”

Leaving the safety of our table, Dean and Graham make their way to the stage after sloppily downing their drinks, each with shoulders slightly hunched as they make their way through the rambunctious crowd. A group of girls, adorned with bachelorette party swag, shriek in perfectly horrible harmony as the two of them step onto stage. They huddle around the DJ booth, clearly discussing their song choice, and I watch as Graham shoots daggers at Dean when they head to the waiting mics.

“Are we sure about this?” I ask Klair as the cheers of the waiting crowd noticeably increases, the whole situation causesmyanxiety to skyrocket and I’m not even the one performing.

“Ohabsolutely,” she says, raising her phone and pressing record as the music starts. The iconic intro of “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard blasts through the speakers while Dean belts along enthusiastically like a seasoned front man, forcing everyone’s attention to center stage. Graham is standing there with his mouth agape in either awe or disgust at his partner’s full-throttled dedication. The crowd goes wild as the guitar solo of the all-too familiar eighties classic rips through the speakers and the bass ricochets across every inch of the packed room.

There. Is. No. Way. They. Are. Singing.This.Song.

Dean pulls his mic from its stand, stepping directly in front of the gaggle of bachelorettes and moves his body in a way that is simultaneously awkward yet weirdly…arousing?

Klair and I look at each other, each of us completely and utterly stunned by this unexpected turn of events and begin screaming our heads off as we rush the stage.

She hands me her phone that’s still recording and cups her hands around her mouth as we get closer. “Wooohooo…Take it off, baby!” Dean must have heard her as he breaks into the widest grin between verses and sidesteps in our direction.

Despite the audible swoons of an endless sea of women, Klair is obviously the only one he’s serenading tonight. Dean gyrates his hips in time to the beat, only breaking eye contact with Klair to turn back to cue Graham who’s standing there looking like a very sexy deer in headlights.

Graham closes his eyes as he places both hands on his mic. I can see his impressive chest expand as he takes in a large gulp of air.

He half-sings, half-talks the lyrics about taking and shaking a bottle and I cannot contain the smile that erupts across my face. He’s swaying his hips from side-to-side in a way that indicates he’s finally loosening up and when he reopens his eyes, he flashes me the most dazzling and devilish toothy grins I’ve ever seen.

In perfect sync to the blaring music, he grabs his mic from its stand and storms the front of the stage. Dropping to his knees, Graham slides the remaining distance, skidding to a stop directly in front of where we are standing.

I will happily oblige as he croons about pouring some sugar on him as he’s thrusting and grinding his hips in my direction. When Dean joins back in, the two of them put on the show of a lifetime causing Klair and I to cheer even louder. I know I’m not going to have a voice tomorrow, but I don’t even care. This is truly the most wildly unexpected yet jaw-dropping moment of my life and looking at the faces of Dean and Graham, who are clearly loving every second of their moment in the spotlight, I know tonight will be unforgettable.

Graham sings seductively about being hot and sticky and oh-so-sweet and in a shock to everyone in attendance, including me, he fists the hem of his shirt, ripping it open and exposing the most delicious set of abs as he rolls his body in such a way that makes my mouth literally water. The crowd loses their minds, erupting in a mixture of applause and collectiveoh-my-god’s.

My all-business and structured man is giving every rock star a run for their money and looking like a freaking model while doing it and I’ve never been more attracted to him. His hair is slightly disheveled and beads of sweat are beginning to form along his tanned skin. So when I run my hands along his exposed chest and stomach like the good groupie I am, I can’t help but bask in Graham and Dean’s moment of greatness.

As the crowd showers the two of them with even more applause, painfully loud squeals and even the sprays of their drinks, this version of Graham—this carefree and untethered and achingly beautiful version of him—is one that will live rent-free in my mind for the rest of all time.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

“Wait…youinvited Lana? To your parents’ house?” I thought I had mentioned that to Klair earlier.Guess not.

She’s looking over at me from the passenger seat as we head to my parents’ house, taking a break from choosing the next 90s boy band one-hit-wonder for us to belt out.

“It’s really not that big of a deal!”I’m trying to not make it a big deal. I can feel Klair’s gears turning so I add, “Honestly? During our last meeting, I just got the vibe that she didn’t have a local support system right now and with all of the work she’s been doing on the book, I figured she could use a little…distraction?” Besides, knowing her track record, she might not even show.

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