Page 86 of Sing Sweet Nightingale

“I’ll give you anything you ask of me, Nightingale.”

A blush pinkens her cheeks, and she ducks her head self-consciously. So, unlike her outgoing personality. For someone who’s been in the spotlight a good portion of her life, it’s interesting to see her shying away when it’s just the two of us.

“Well, are you going to eat it and tell me how it tastes?” I ask when she sits staring at the container of food without opening it. “How will I know it’s any good if you don’t tell me?”

Her posture eases, and she opens the lid, picking out a roll and popping the entire thing in her mouth. Her eyes close, and she moans around the food in satisfaction.

“Good?”

With her mouthful, she can only nod vigorously and doesn’t pause to speak once she finishes chewing before shoving another roll in her mouth.

Note to self; buy Lottie as much sushi as she wants.

Chapter 27 – Hunter

When Lottie finished most of her sushi, sharing some with me because she’s that thoughtful, we went over to pick out our popcorn before the movie started. She couldn’t just decide on one, so we have three bowls laid out on the blanket at our side: one with M&M’s, marshmallows, and chocolate syrup, one with nacho cheese, and another just plain buttered popcorn.

Right now, on the screen, which sits slightly askew on the ground, Dorothy has just found Munchkin Land, and Lottie sings along under her breath with the songs. Even muffled her singing draws me in, and I find myself watching her more than the screen.

She’s tucked under my arm, and I was right about her getting cold when the sun fully set and had to pull the extra blanket my sister was smart enough to leave for us over our laps. The position is the most comfortable I’ve ever been in. I rarely attend the movie under the stars night, but with Lottie at my side, I’ll attend every single one.

Becca walks by and waves but doesn’t stop until Lottie calls out to her.

“Hey Becca, could you take a picture of us please?”

Becca, ever willing to help, especially when it comes to anyone’s dating life, eagerly agrees.

“Of course.” She skips over and takes the camera from Lottie’s outstretched hand.

Scooting back against my side and pressing close, Lottie positions herself just right for her photo. I watch her until Becca draws my attention, counting to three before taking the photo. I manage to look at the camera and smile when she clicks the button and the light flashes.

“That is going to be such a cute photo. You two look so good together.” Turning her attention towards me, Becca eyes me warmly. “It’s nice to see you out and about more Hunter, outside of your mayorly duties. You should do it more often.”

Her eyes shift briefly to Lottie, who is too busy watching the photo develop to notice.

“I think I will,” I agree.

Silently adding a promise to myself that’ll only happen as long as Lottie is around.

“Have a good night. I’ll see y’all at Dottie’s.”

“Night, Becca. Thank you.”

Lottie waves to Becca as she returns to her blanket with her mate, a male nymph she’s been mated to for at least a century but still acts like newly mated young. Making out in public and being all gushy. It’s cute, envious even. That envy slowly evaporates when Lottie melts into my side.That could be mine, too.

I look down at the Polaroid in Lottie’s hand, which is still developing, but I can see the image slowly appearing. The clearest part is our smiling faces, with the dark background keeping all the focus on us. Becca is right; we do look good together.

The last thing I want to do is ruin a good mood, but there are a few things I want to know about Lottie and why she’s here. She mentioned rather animatedly that her mother was extremelycontrolling of her life, but why abscond to a hidden town in the woods and evade all contact with anyone?

“Lottie, can I ask you a question?”

Her dark blue eyes turn upward to catch mine, and she remains relaxed and at ease.

“Sure.”

“Why did you leave LA? I know you said your mom controlled a lot of your life, and you wanted to get away from her, but why leave completely? Why hide out here and cut all communication with anyone? Don’t you miss singing and your life there?”

Her gaze slides away from mine, focusing on the almost fully developed photo in her hands. She seems to draw strength from it somehow. On a deep exhale, she begins her story.

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