Me: Show you my nipples, or maybe just one.
Avery: Don’t you dare.
Me: Can’t stop me.
Avery: omg…
Laughing, I look up as she walks out, and her face is bright red, matching her lips. Not meeting my gaze, she picks up her guitar and the shop lights lower as a spotlight comes on only her. Tapping her foot onto something, she starts to play without looking up or even introducing herself. But I guess it doesn’t matter because when she starts singing, everyone is watching.
I made sure.
And hell, I’m so impressed. Her voice is so smoky but also so mesmerizing, and her fingers move naturally along the strings of her guitar, the melody matching her voice perfectly. I think I know the song; it’s some stuff that Claire likes by that ginger dude. But I’m thinking Avery could outsing that dude any day of the week. When she starts to bang on the guitar, for drums, I guess, I’m completely imprisoned by her. Then her voice is playing in the background and she is singing, and crap, I feel like I’m spinning, she is so fantastic. Looking at Markus in amazement, I find him rocking out, singing along with her, and I can’t help but smile.
“She’s crazy good, right?” I say and Markus nods in agreement, moving his fist with each note. He thinks he’s the best dancer since Michael Jackson. I try to tell him he isn’t, but he doesn’t listen. But then, I can’t blame him for getting down. I don’t dance, but she is making me want to.
When she finishes with flair, I stand up, clapping loudly and hollering.
Apparently I am the only one who got the memo to do that.
My clap turns to a slow clap as I lower myself into my chair. Markus is laughing his ass off, and when I look up to Avery, she’s grinning, her cheeks still bright red.
“All right, then. Pumped-up crowd tonight,” she says soulfully into the mic. “Well, for those who don’t know my name and are not trying to sleep with me, I’m Avery Rose and I’m here to entertain you. So let’s do this.”
Markus is still laughing, but I don’t care. She’s good! She taps her foot on the ground, and a beat drops and then she is doing this sick-ass cover of “Can’t Feel My Face.” She’s so animated, I mean, fully into the music, and it’s amazing to see. The things she does with the guitar and that thing she keeps hitting with her foot are the tools to her magic, and I’m lucky to be a witness to it.
When her gaze meets mine, singing the chorus, I feel like she is singing just to me. Soon, my mouth is curving in the most sinful way.
Because the lyrics are true.
I can’t go without.
Without her.
When she finishes, again with a flair of her own, I, along with the crowd, erupt. She grins as she reaches for a bottle of water, taking a long pull from it. Putting it down, she moves her fingers along the strings as she comes back to the mic.
“I’m new around these parts,” she says then. “I came all the way from New Jersey to be a part of one of the best music programs in the country, and I’m glad I did.” She pauses as some of the crowd cheers for her. Guess there are a lot of music department folks here, but I don’t notice because all I see is her. “Up north, there isn’t much country, but here, it’s everything. And I think I love it. So let’s change things up, shall we?” Someone in the crowd agrees, but I don’t look to see who it is. “This morning the guy in the front row who is hollering like a madman—” she pauses, sending me a grin, and I let out a whoop that has the crowd laughing “—anyway, he called me June Carter. And because of that, I am inspired to play this.”
Avery then pushes her guitar behind her, taking ahold of the mic. The guitar looks so huge against her back. Some would look dumb, but she looks right at home. And when she hits the thing on the floor and a beat drops, the crowd is silent. Especially when she starts to rap “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash.
No shit.
I’m floored.
I’ve never been so impressed in my life.
All because of this small, gorgeous girl.
Who will be mine.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
Why am I nervous?
I’m never nervous.
What the hell?
Why am I even asking myself that? I know why. It starts and ends with Jace Sinclair. He’s sitting in the front row like he belongs there, and he is cheering me on in the most obnoxious way.