Page 23 of Missing Pieces (Men of Manhattan 3)

I grabbed his hand and we walked up to the stage together. I was surprised when he kept his fingers intertwined with mine until we got up on the stage. As soon as he dropped my hand to grab his

mic, my hand felt cold. I liked the feeling of his skin against mine. I stared at him as he cleared his throat. The music started blaring through the restaurant.

"Hey, I was doing just fine before I met you," he sang and pointed at me.

I laughed.

"I drink too much and that's an issue, but I'm okay." He winked at me.

Why the hell had he not wanted to do this? He was such a good singer. So much better than me.

His eyes stayed locked on mine. It was like he was singing directly to me.

He pulled the mic off the stand and walked over to me. "Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar." He lightly touched a strand of my hair.

I felt frozen in place. Was this really happening? It felt like he was serenading me.

"Bite that tattoo on your shoulder," he sang and lightly touched my shoulder.

Chills ran down my spine.

He pulled the mic away from his face and I realized that it was almost my turn to sing.

I wanted to sing to him too. I wanted him to know how attracted I was to him. I wanted him to want me back. "You look as good as the day I met you," I sang and touched his chest with my index finger.

The fire in his eyes made my throat feel dry.

"Stay, and play that Blink-182 song, that we beat to death in Tucson, okay." Looking at him made me nervous. But I needed to go for it. This seemed like the best possible moment. "So, baby, pull me closer in the backseat of your Rover." I grabbed the front of his t-shirt and pulled him closer to me, before turning around and pressing my ass against him.

"Fuck."

Oh my God, had he really just said that out loud? Or had I imagined it? Why had I drank so much? I tried to focus on the lyrics but all I wanted to do was dance with him. I wanted to feel his hands on my hips. I wanted him to literally pull me closer, just like the song said.

"Baby pull me closer," he sang and grabbed my hips, pulling me more firmly against him.

And I could feel him. He was hard. Really hard. God, he wanted me too. I grinded against him.

"Pull the sheets right off the corner," I sang as I dipped low against him.

His fingers definitely tightened on my waist.

"We ain't ever getting older!" I stood up straight and reached behind me, running my fingers down the back of his neck.

"We ain't ever getting older," he whispered in my ear.

I laughed and turned around, spreading my arms in the air. "We ain't ever getting older!" I sang at the top of my lungs and spun around in a circle. "No, we ain't ever getting older!"

The music stopped and we were both staring at each other on the stage.

People in the audience clapped and a few patrons whistled.

I laughed and grabbed Tyler's hand, pulling him off the stage. I dragged him to the side of the bar, away from the speakers, hooking my hands behind his neck.

"Let's get out of here." Yes, I had consumed a lot of alcohol. But that wasn't what was making me feel the way I was right now. I was intoxicated by him.

"I can't drive right now." He didn't try to pull away from me. He let me stay pressed against him.

"I know. Let's go to the hotel next door." I ran my thumb along the scruff on his jaw. "Maybe we could share a bed again?" I stared up at him. I had never been so forward in my life. Hopefully it was working.

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