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Chasing Love (Dark Love 1)

Page 118

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The party continues, and several times I catch Charlotte in a daze touching the phoenix. It isn’t until a short time later that Julian stands up and walks out. She follows him, but I’m not angry like last time. He looks pissed, and maybe a little defeated. He has ever since the comic-book story. He’d have to be the stupidest moron not to see something is going on between us. I mean, I fucked her in the bathroom. She smells like my cock. What more evidence does he need?

In the meantime, I have an idea. She won’t talk, and therefore will not listen, but music means more. I’ll find the courage to sing, despite the nerves of doing it in front of a crowd.

“Great, Lex,” Adriana squeals when I tell her. “What song?”

I don’t answer her. Instead, I get up and walk over to the stage and speak to the head of the band. I ask him if I can borrow their piano. Charlotte is seated at the table, her expression confused. I don’t know what happened outside, but it’s time.

I sit at the piano, taking in a deep breath. I position my fingers over the keys, the lights dim, and my heart is going a thousand miles a minute. The crowd cheers loudly, and somehow, somewhere, I find my voice.

The words flow freely as do my fingers along the keys. I know she has to have known this song, my eyes focus on her as I sing, and she sits there, still. I want her to know how I feel, how much pain I’m in, how much regret I have about leaving her, and that it’s always been and will always be her.

The crowd erupts into a roar followed by whistles. I stand and then walk down the stairs. I’m stopped by a few cougars on the way back to our table, something that Rocky can’t help but comment on.

“Excellent job, man,” he says, leaning in closer. “Did you see the MILF in the red dress? Holy mother of—”

Nikki slaps the back of his head, and I can’t help but laugh.

Charlotte is sitting quietly, her eyes never leaving mine like she’s about to say something. I wish I could read her mind. Fuck, am I finally getting through to her? She leans over and whispers something to Eric. He quickly gets up and walks over to the man organizing the music.

I watch her knock back a whole glass of sangria, and almost instantly, she looks calmer. Eric and Charlotte’s names are called, and they make their way to the stage. I can’t help but admire her stunning figure as she walks past me. Those emerald green pumps look amazing against her tanned legs. I grab her wrist as she walks past. “Good luck, Charlotte,” I offer.

Her gaze meets mine again like she’s searching for something, but I have no clue because she will not tell me. Eric ushers her along, and they walk onto the stage. Her body appearing more relaxed.

Yes, she’s fucking drunk.

I recognize the song almost immediately. Her voice is angelic, and she closes her eyes as she sings her part. I sit and stare, taking in every word as she begins to sing ‘Just Give Me A Reason.’

Eric sings the male part, but I begin to tune out, lost in a stream of emotions.

Is this how she feels?

That we are broken.

I push the thought away.

Of course, we can be fixed, it’s us, after all. This isn’t some high school fling. If I were the one who broke us by leaving, then what exactly does she need from me to fix us?

The crowd cheers and whistles as the song finishes. The words were plain and simple. We can learn to love again, and we aren’t broken.

At least I acknowledge the mistakes I made and keep making. At least I’m trying. She has to see that or else she wouldn’t have so openly sung this song.

Charlotte comes back to the table and plonks herself on her chair. Eric pours her some san

gria, why the fuck for I have no idea. She needs to stop drinking.

As she continues to gaze at me, I watch her, not knowing who will break eye contact first, it’s like we’re both trying to read each other’s mind. I’m the first one to look away only because a lady beside me asks for a light to which I politely indicate that I don’t smoke.

Music plays, and the crowd gets up to dance. The atmosphere is relaxed. Sangria is deadly—it creeps up on you when you least expect it. Adriana and Elijah are on the dance floor. Eric is teaching the tourists how to do the Macarena which, I have to admit, is worth watching. Nikki and Rocky disappear, but their belongings are still here. A quickie in the bathroom, no doubt.

“Leexxx,” Charlotte slurs her words as she comes and sits on my lap.

“Charlotte, you’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not. I’m just really, really, really, happy, you know?” She smiles as she takes another drink.

“Enough sangria for you.”

I pull the glass away, but she whines.



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