So stunning.
She finishes with flair, and the room cheers for her. When she stands up, I hold my breath as I watch her grab a guitar. She sits back down, her lips coming to the mic. “This is my last song for the night.” A few people complain, loudly, and she grins. “I know, but don’t worry, the bar has some great music to play for y’all. Anyway, I heard this song today, and with where I’m at right now, I feel it applies. So sit back and enjoy.”
Her fingers start to move over the guitar just as her voice fills the bar. A hush falls over the room as she sings. I love how her eyes close, how her lips stay on the mic as she sings. She plays the guitar way better than the piano. It’s almost like she’s just breathing instead of picking the right chords. I want to play with her. The song is dazzling, something about not wearing makeup on Thursdays. When she sings that she only wants to feel beautiful, my heart stops. Doesn’t she know she is absolutely exquisite?
Did I make her feel like she wasn’t beautiful? God, what is wrong with me?
Once she finishes, she stands up while everyone claps. She takes a bow and says, “Good night, everyone.”
She puts her guitar in its case, and I get up, ready to go to her. But then I pause. A really tall guy stops at the stage, and when she sees him, her face lights up. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he hugs her tightly to him. When he kisses her, on the mouth, my stomach drops.
What. The. Fuck.
She pulls back and gives him a disapproving look. He says something, and then they both just laugh. He takes her hand in his, kissing it before lacing his fingers with hers. She leans into him as they walk toward a booth. When they sit down, I realize I am glaring at them. I have never felt this kind of anger in my life. Even when I got suspended last year after the allegations, I wasn’t this mad. No, I feel as if I’m about to morph into the Hulk.
I’m pretty sure I know the guy. He’s huge, with long, dirty-blond hair and an ugly mug. He looks so familiar, but I can’t place him. He looks at her like she’s the only one in the room, and that pisses me off. That’s what I want to do. That’s what I am doing. Who the hell is this fucker? When he reaches over, cupping her face, she grins as she leans into his hand.
And then I’m moving.
I almost fall out of my chair, I get up so fast, and all I see is red. I feel like I’m stomping toward them, and if I am, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t know what she’s doing, but it isn’t right. As I come to their table, she turns and sees me. Her brows pull together as she moves back, crossing her arms over her chest. I stand there, staring at her as she does the same to me. You could cut the tension with a knife.
“Yes?” she asks, all sassy and fucking hot. Her chin is up at me defiantly, and her eyes are narrowed.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She scoffs. “That’s none of your business.”
“It is because you were with me just hours ago.”
She nods. “Yup, and you told me I was just a fuck. So it doesn’t matter what I am doing and with whom. So, bye.”
“Shelli, I didn’t say that—”
“Maybe not outright, but you meant it. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Fuck that,” I say, my eyes burning into hers. “I never meant that. I was overwhelmed. Let me talk to you.”
“No.”
“You’re serious? What the hell?”
“I was doing something nice for you, and yeah, maybe I stepped over the line. But even so, you don’t tell someone they’re just a fuck.”
“Shelli, I didn’t say that—”
“You implied it!”
I look to ugly-mug guy. “Does that make sense to you?”
He shrugs. “I don’t give a shit. I’m hoping she’s done with you so we can get together.”
“Really, Nico?” she sneers. “Shut up.”
“So what, you’re with him?” I jerk my thumb toward the guy.
She laughs. “None. Of. Your. Business.”
“It is my business—”
“It is not,” she says simply.
“Bro, believe me, we’re something, but she doesn’t want it.”
I ignore him. “Answer me. Are you with him?”
“Maybe,” she says, and I don’t miss the smug grin on the fucker’s face.
“I want to talk to you,” I insist, and I feel like I’m coming out of my skin.
With her eyes burning into mine, she says, “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Shelli—”
“I’m enjoying dinner with someone who wants to spend time with me, so please leave.”
She looks away, and I glare. “I do want to spend—”