Page 18 of One More Song

And I wonder for a moment if the spark really matters. I’ve read that some of the best relationships start out as just friends. Maybe things could blossom between us. And maybe I’m just kidding myself.

When Granger turns and starts talking with Millie’s husband Keith, Millie pulls me close and whispers, “So? What do you think?”

“He’s really nice.”

She groans. “He’s more than nice, Em, he’s made for you.”

“Maybe,” I say, not wanting to deflate her hope so soon.

I glance over my shoulder and Granger smiles, but there are no butterflies, no knee-weakening moments. But it’s still nice to be out, even if my best friend’s idea of fun is dragging me to a dive bar to sing karaoke. What’s the worst thing that can happen?

“You know what you need,” Millie says.

“Pleeeasedon’t say tequila shots.”

She laughs. “You know me too well.” Her arm slings over my shoulder. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have fun tonight if we have to drink an entire bottle of Patron to make sure of it.”

I groan. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

She laughs, and her enthusiasm is infectious. That is until I see the black Cadillac, one that looks suspiciously close to my ex-husband’s, parked in front of the bar with the blinkingKaraokesign in the window.

This would totally be somewhere that Mitch would hang out, trying to re-live his glory days on stage.

I say a silent prayer as Granger opens the door for us,Please, please, please don’t be here.

When I scan the mostly empty bar, I let out a sigh of relief when there’s no sign of him.Thank God.The last thing I need is my ex-husband judging me.

I smile, realizing it was a dumb thing to be scared about anyway. He’s at his place with our little girl. No need to worry about running into my past tonight.

But then my eye catches on a man at a back table. My body immediately flushes, and my skin pricks.

Ash.

Turns out it’s not my past I need to worry about. Because right now, my present is staring right at me.

Those butterflies that I’d been hoping for earlier start fluttering like crazy.

“You coming or what?” Millie asks, reaching for my hand. My eyes are locked with Ash’s though. He sees me and I see him and the loud, dark bar spins. I follow Millie, but my heart seems to rush from my body and leap into his lap.

I don’t want this. A man with a rough voice and broad shoulders and eyes that don’t just see.They sear.

And it hurts, to be seen.

I blink, force my feet toward the bar. Refusing to look back. The shots are poured, and I take one, then another and Millie claps and the alcohol burns as it goes down. The lime is sharp, and the salt is strong, and I ask for another and Millie laughs saying I need to sing before I get a third and I disagree, but she is my friend for a reason. She knows how to make me do things I wouldn’t do otherwise.

“Come on,” she begs, dragging me toward the DJ. “Are you worried about embarrassing yourself in front of Granger?”

I frown. Almost asking who Granger is because ever since I stepped into this bar, I only see one man. The one I shouldn’t be thinking about. The man who has tormented my sleep for three nights straight. I hear him late, well past the time everyone else is asleep, in the kitchen, drinking his warm milk which is so damn tender it nearly makes me melt.

But I won’t.Melt,I mean.

I’ve done that before, let the sweet things a man does erase all the bad things I know he is capable of.

I won’t be played a fool for a second time. But God, the temptation is hard to resist.

“What song are we singing?” I ask, knowing I can’t back down. If I do, if I let my fear get the best of me, then it will mean this man I don’t even know will have won. What he is winning I don’t quite know, but it would feel like I am giving up a piece of myself.

And I won’t do that. Never again.

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