Page 31 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
“Ainsley! What are you doing?”
I don’t turn back to answer Jonathan, or anyone else who might be calling for me. Instead, I walk right up to Miguel, our lovely karaoke host who’s now my new best friend, and request a song.
“For you, girl? Anything.”
“Thanks!” I say, grabbing the microphone from his table as I walk on stage. I haven’t heard this song in years. But for some reason it seems fitting right now.
And Miguel even turns the lights to red for added effect.
“This is dedicated to my boyfriend!” I point to Linc, who’s waving to the crowd like he’s the grand marshal of a parade. Just then the sultry music begins to play, and my cue is up.
All right, Jonathan, you think I’m the same? That this is fake? Watch this…
“Take a good look at it…”
I feel my face turning red, but apparently not as red as the stage lights last night. “I did not…”
“Oh, you did. Not going to lie, it was pretty hot.”
I let my head fall into my arms as Linc chuckles. “Here. Try and eat something. Let the grease soak up the booze.”
I look up to see the ham, egg, and cheese sandwich on a bagel that I requested when he said that he was ordering breakfast delivery, along with the large, crispy Coke I asked for. I’m usually not a huge caffeine person, but today, it’s warranted.
Also, as I sit here in Linc’s kitchen, at his island, wearing a T-shirt and shorts he gave to me so I’m not still in my dress fromlast night, I hereby do declare that I’m never, and I mean never, drinking again.
“I’m mortified,” I say.
“Don’t be. Dr. Dipshit stormed away in the middle of your song. Which was rude, if you ask me. I guess he was just jealous that you were singing to me and not him.”
The embarrassment I feel on my face isn’t going away with Linc’s teasing words. “I was singing to you?”
“Dedicated it to me and everything,” he says as he unwraps a monstrosity of a sandwich that I can’t even begin to imagine what’s on it. I didn’t know breakfast sandwiches even came in that size. “You pointed to me and swerved your hips. It was quite the show. Any farther and I would’ve had to tell the bar to avert their eyes.”
I slam my head down again, my arms catching it before I hit the breakfast counter. “How does this keep getting worse?”
“Don’t say that,” Linc says as I feel his hand on my forearm. “It wasn’t that bad. You were the bar’s favorite performer after that. Probably something to do with the surprising rasp you have in your voice.”
I pick my head up just enough to see if Linc’s messing with me. “A rasp? Who do I think I am?”
“A true karaoke pro,” Linc teases. “And I haven’t even told you about our duet to ‘Hey Mickey!’”
Now this makes me sit straight up. “We didwhat?”
I hate that song. Years of competition dance make you cringe anytime you hear a select few songs. That one is a top absolutely-not for me. How drunk was I?
Apparently the panic on my face is enough to make Linc break out in laughter. “Gotcha.”
Excuse me? “Gotcha? You mean?—”
He shakes his head. “We didn’t. But good to know you would’ve believed it.”
I sit up straight, needing Linc to rip off the rest of my humiliating Band-Aid. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
He shakes his head and sets down his sandwich. “Pretty soon after your red-light performance, you started to get sloppy. Which is what happens when you down probably four shots of Fireball straight from the bottle after quite a few drinks already. We knew it was time to go. And it was the right call, because you passed out in the ride share before we even got you here.”
Okay, that’s not too bad. “Thank you. So much.”
He waves me off like it wasn’t that big of a deal, even though it very much was. “You’re my lady…what kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”
