Page 37 of Trouble
I handed the microphone to the next performer and went back to our table. It seemed Ianthe had asked the guys to join us and I found myself squeezed into the booth, between two preppy guys.
“You were amazing,” the one next to me whispered into my ear. “I’m Jason, by the way.”
Ianthe placed another tequila in front of me. “Figure you’ll be needing this, Lyla.”
“Thanks, Jason, that’s really sweet.”
He placed a hand on my thigh. “You live in Cali Cross, Lyla?”
His touch burned, and not in a pleasant way. Not in the way it did when Maddox touched me. I stared at his hand.
“Um, yes. You?”
Jason asked me a few more questions. What did I do for work? Did I come to CC’s a lot? Had I been to the Country Club recently? The polite conversation wasn’t doing it for me. I could feel an intense green gaze boring through the back of my head. I desperately tried to signal to Ianthe I wanted to leave, but she was involved in a deep discussion with one of Jason’s friends. One that appeared to require him touching her cheek every couple of seconds. I don’t know how she didn’t swat him away.
The current karaoke singer had finished, and I heard the opening chords of one of the songs from Grease. I groaned, wondering who on earth had chosen it.
Then I heard his voice.
He couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.
Singing was not his gift.
I whipped my head around to see Maddox standing front and center of the stage, singing along with John Travolta. Dressed in black jeans and black t-shirt, he almost looked the part too. Was he really telling me I was the one he wanted? To compound the embarrassment, Wes and Andre joined him on stage, singing the Olivia Newton-John parts.
Andre was supporting him? Did it mean what I thought it did?
I was going to cry.
That big, dumb idiot was going to make me cry.
Tears clouded my vision as I watched them. It was truly terrible, but the sentiment was awesome. Even the stupid dance routine they were attempting.
“You okay?” Ianthe had muscled her way to my side of the booth and elbowed Jason out of the picture. “Why don’t you go and sing with him?”
Wes and Andre gestured to me to do the same. Suddenly overcome with shyness, I shuffled towards the stage and joined Maddox. Someone shoved a microphone into my hand, and I started to sing, my voice cracking with emotion.
Thankfully, there wasn’t much of the song left and when we finished singing, the entire bar erupted.
We held hands and bowed and curtsied before awkwardly walking off the stage, neither of us quite knowing what to do next. Neither of us said anything as someone else started singing, rather murdering, a Taylor Swift number.
“So am I?” I asked after what seemed like an eternity.
Maddox frowned. “Are you what?”
I cocked my head, not quite believing he didn’t get the reference. “The one that you want?”
Andre appeared with a beer for Maddox and another tequila for me. I swiped it from his hand and downed it in one. Could Maddox make this any harder?
“After everything we’ve been through the past couple of days, you’d better be,” said Andre.
I looked between the two of them. There was none of the animosity which had bubbled over yesterday. None of the anger from Andre. Just the same, strong and steady Maddox-and-Dre friendship there had always been. I bit my lip. Was Andre saying what I thought he was?
I glanced over at Maddox, who stepped closer to me.
“Be with me, Lyla. Only me. Let’s give this a chance. What do you say?” He pressed his forehead to mine, aware we had somewhat of an audience.
I brought my hand to his cheek and traced the line of his jaw. “Yes. So much yes.”
