Page 28 of Tear Me to Pieces
“We need to stop.” I can’t believe those words are coming out of my mouth. I’m shocked I manage to spit them out, but I do. They don’t sound convincing, but they’re there.
A flash of hurt moves across Myra’s pretty face. “Oh.” One hand lifts to her mouth, wiping across her lips. “I thought?—”
“No.” I grab her hand, wrapping my fingers around her wrist as I pull it away before she can rid herself of any trace of me. “It’s not like that.”
Myra’s eyes come to my face. “Like what?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to stop. I said weneededto stop.” My whole life I’ve chased down what I wanted. Grabbed it with both hands, refusing to let go until I had no other option. But I won’t do that to Myra. She’s gone her whole life not having choices. I’ll be damned if I try to take one more decision out of her hands.
“I don’t understand.” She tries to step toward me again, but I spread the hand that was holding her wrist across her belly, ensuring at least some distance stays between us.
“You’ve been drinking, and you just came off stage. Your mind is being affected in more than one way. When something happens between us, I want you to be thinking clearly.”
Myra cocks her head. “When?”
I blink, unsure what she’s asking me. “What do you mean,when?”
Her eyes drift down my body, hooded with desire as she takes in the chest I left bare thinking it might catch her attention. “You saidwhensomething happens between us.” Her gaze slowly comes back to my face. “Notif.”
Well. Fuck.
I open my mouth to reply, but the next second, the curtains blocking us off from the rest of the bar begin to move. Dropping my hands, I take a step back, putting even more distance between Myra and me.
“Oh my gosh. That was amazing.” Lydia rushes into the small space, throwing her arms around her older sister’s neck. “You sounded freaking insane.” She leans back, smile faltering as she looks over Myra’s face. “What’s wrong? Did you not enjoy it?”
Myra’s eyes come to me, hanging for just a split second before going back to her sister. “I enjoyed it. I think I’m just overwhelmed.”
Lydia smooths back Myra’s blonde hair, arranging the loose curls around her shoulders. “I can imagine. It was probably a pretty surreal experience to be singing what you were singing, where you were singing it.”
Again, Myra’s eyes come my way. It’s only for a second, but if she keeps doing it, someone’s bound to notice.
When her focus returns to Lydia, she smiles softly. “A lot about tonight is kind of surreal.”
Lydia hooks one arm around Myra’s shoulders, leading her through the curtain. “Piper and I cheered so loud. Could you hear us?”
I don’t catch the rest of the conversation. It’s lost to the drone of the crowd as the women make their way down the handful of steps leading off the stage and get lost in the sea of people here to watch us play.
My eyes stay fused to her until she’s out of sight. I’m not ready for her to go yet. I don’t like the way we left things. I don’t want Myra thinking she did anything wrong. That I was rejecting her.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
“Did you have any idea she could sing like that?” Christian’s voice startles me. I’ve been so focused on Myra, I didn’t evennotice he’d come in with Lydia. Which is stupid, because, generally speaking, the man follows his wife wherever she goes. And I hate him a little for having that opportunity.
Forcing my attention away from the crowd, I turn to my friend. “No. Did you?”
Christian chuckles, shaking his head. “Lydia told me Myra sang in church all the time, but she didn’t come close to preparing me for what we saw tonight.” He braces his hands on his hips the way he does when he’s thinking something over. “The crowd fucking loved her.”
I nod. “They did.”
Myra’s voice is unreal. Powerful. Soulful. Just a little textured around the edges. Enough to give her a unique sound, but not so much her tone is raspy.
I could listen to her sing all day. Would do unholy things to find a way for her voice to be the one that sings my children to sleep.
Closing my eyes, I pull in a breath, scrubbing one hand over my face. I’m getting fucking ahead of myself. I always do. The worst part is, I like it. I like planning for what’s coming. Thinking about what I want to have.
And then finding a way to get there.
But I can’t do that this time. Not with Myra.
