Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Callie
Liquid courage is a real thing. Seriously.
I like to sing in the shower as much as the next person. I’ve even come to this bar for karaoke night during previous conventions. With people I only see once every other year.
But tonight is different. Royal is here. I share a classroom wall with him. I see him in the hall. In the teacher’s lounge. At staff meetings. Five days a week.
And not only am I singing in front of him, I’m singing with him. A love ballad. A really difficult love ballad that I chose for us.
I don’t know if the vodka is giving me courage or brain damage at this point. I actually don’t care.
I need another drink.
I catch our waitress’s eye, and she signals that she’ll bring me another vodka soda right away. I can feel the burn of the last two buzzing in my veins, but I’m not ready to stop. I’ll just make sure to drink this one a bit more slowly than the last two.
Shannon and Barb get called up to the stage, and everyone at our table hoots and hollers for them as they pull microphones from their stands. They sing a popular pop song from a few years ago, and the bar goes wild despite their off-key singing. When they finish and come back to our table, everyone high-fives them as they blush and shake their heads.
I’m looking around for our waitress and that drink she promised me when I hear my name through the speakers. It’s time for me to sing with Daniel, the teacher who pulled my name in the random draw. I pick up my glass and rattle the ice, but there’s no booze left. I glance at Royal, who offers me his half-full bottle of beer.
“Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear. Beer before liquor, never been sicker,” I mumble under my breath.
I’m tempted, but I do have another vodka cocktail coming, and I don’t want to get sick later. I shake my head at Royal, and he shrugs before taking a sip from the bottle. I watch as his lips touch the opening, my stomach flip-flopping strangely.
“Callie, let’s go,” Daniel calls out on his way to the stage, and I snap out of the hypnosis I’d fallen under and slide off my stool.
Up on the small stage, the music begins, and Daniel comes in with his part. He’s mostly on-key, but his voice is just okay. It makes me feel a bit better. I was afraid he would be a strong singer, leaving me sounding like Scuttle from “The Little Mermaid.”
As Daniel nears the end of his verse and it’s time for me to come in with the chorus, I inhale deeply and bring the mic closer to my mouth. My face heats as I start to sing the words. Despite my earlier confidence when talking to Royal and the vodka burning through my system, I’m nervous. I’m staring at the monitor that displays the words even though I know them by heart. It’s a defense mechanism, a way of avoiding the reaction of the crowd.
A crowd that seems much quieter than before.
My eyes flick up from the screen without my permission, and it’s hard not to notice that most of the people present are watching me with somewhat stunned expressions. I find Royal still on his stool at our table, his eyes wide and his lips parted as he stares back at me. His expression shifts, morphing into a wide smile and warm eyes that leave me feeling more at ease.
When Daniel and I finish the song, we both laugh as the bar erupts in applause. He holds up a palm for a high-five, and I slap mine against it. He takes my microphone and places it back onto the stand for me as I gingerly step off the stage. I feel a bit lightheaded, and I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or the buzz of the crowd shouting compliments as I walk back to the table.
My drink is waiting for me when I get there, so I pick it up and take a sip as I slide onto my stool. Royal leans in closer, his cologne making me even dizzier than before.
“That was amazing,” he says, his voice just loud enough for me to hear.
I mumble a thanks and take another drink, and Royal’s hand snakes out to touch my wrist. I freeze, staring at the contact for a couple of beats before lifting my eyes to his.
“Seriously, Callie,” he says once our gazes lock, “you have a beautiful voice.”
“Thank you,” I say again, offering him a small, embarrassed smile.
He pulls his hand away, and I don’t know if I should be relieved or grieve the loss of his touch.
“I think I might be too intimidated to sing with you now,” he says while crossing his arms over his chest.
“Shut up,” I say with a laugh, relaxing a bit. “Nothing intimidates Royal Manning.”
I shove his shoulder with that last bit, and Royal grabs my fingers before I can pull back. Giving them a squeeze, he murmurs that he’s being serious, but I barely hear the words over the pounding of my pulse in my ears. We both sit there, frozen, Royal’s grip on my fingers making my heart race while he just stares into my eyes with some emotion that resembles…longing.
He releases me suddenly, clears his throat, and turns his attention to the guy who’s now singing up on the stage. I curl my still-burning fingers into a fist and push the hand under the table as I stare at the condensation rolling down the side of my glass.
That was…weird.
“Okay, thank you, Mark. Let’s welcome to the stage––Callie and Royal!”
Oh, shit. I just sang, and I didn’t expect to be called back up so quickly. Royal slides off his stool with a smile and extends his arm toward the stage. Grabbing my drink, I drain it before wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. Royal laughs, and his smile somehow relaxes me and makes me more nervous simultaneously. How is that even possible?
Up on the stage, I watch Royal as the song opens with the soft strains of a guitar. He meets my gaze as he sings the first words, smirking a bit at the word “girl,” but that smirk doesn’t affect me like it usually would because damn .
Royal can sing. His deep baritone ripples over my skin, and I almost forget to come in on my part. Lifting the mic to my lips quickly, I sing, my eyes on Royal. He doesn’t look away from me the entire time. He smiles and sings into his microphone on the chorus, harmonizing beautifully with my part.
I’m stunned.
And a little turned on.
This is wrong. On so many levels.
I tear my eyes away from Royal to look out at the crowd, and every eye in the place is on us. No one is talking. No one is moving. It’s very…disconcerting.
I somehow manage to keep singing, and when the song winds down, the bar erupts. Claps, shouts, whistles. The roar is deafening. Royal laughs and throws an arm around my shoulders before lifting the other hand holding the microphone into the air in a wave. His scent envelopes me, making me dizzy, and I quickly pull away, hand him my mic, and hop off the stage on unsteady feet.
When I reach the table, I grab my bag and spin back around, only to bump into a brick wall. I stumble back a step, and strong hands grab my shoulders to steady me as I look up to see Royal peering down at me with a concerned expression.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone laced with worry.
“I don’t feel so good,” I mumble, the words slurring a bit. “I’m going back to the room. I’ll see you later.”
“Callie, wait. I’ll walk you back. Just let me pay our tab.”
“No, you stay. You still have another song to sing. I’ll be okay on my own.”
I try to pull away, but his grip only tightens as he says, “Wait for me.”
His voice is deep and commanding, and I find myself frozen to the spot when he releases me. I can’t move as his voice reverberates in my head before shooting straight to my core. I watch as he stops to speak to Adam and jerks a thumb in my direction. Adam glances at my face, then looks back at Royal and nods before clapping him on the back.
Straightening, Royal spares me a single glance to see if I’m still obeying his command, then heads for the bar. I see him speak to the bartender, who nods before heading toward the register. He comes back with a receipt for Royal to sign before handing over the credit card Royal left with him to run a tab. I look down at my feet.
Royal paid for my drinks. All of them. Does that make this a date?
“No. Stop it, Callie. You’re being ridiculous,” I murmur under my breath.
“What was that?”
I rear back to find Royal in front of me once more, having appeared there as if by magic. I swallow thickly, then shake my head.
“Nothing. Just talking to myself,” I slur, and he nods once before pressing his hand to the small of my back and guiding me toward the exit.
I’d normally pull away from his touch, but right now, when my steps are unsteady and my head is spinning, I decide allowing it is the smarter move. Out on the sidewalk, that light touch apparently isn’t enough to steady me, and I stumble. Royal’s arm immediately curves around my waist, pulling and wedging me into his side. I allow him to hold me like that the rest of the way to the hotel, because as overwhelming as his touch is, falling on my face in front of him would be so much worse.
Maybe I should’ve listened to him when he told me to slow down on the vodka. I’d never admit that to him , though.
I don’t pull away until we’re ensconced in the elevator and on our way up to our floor. I end up slumping back against the mirrored wall. Closing my eyes, I take a couple of deep breaths. When I blink them back open, Royal is watching me with sparkling eyes.
“Am I entertaining you?” I say with no small amount of snark, and he laughs.
“Very much so,” he says, grinning.
I push off the wall too hard and too fast, stumbling over my clunky sandals. Pitching forward, I slam into Royal’s chest even harder than I did at the bar. His arms wrap around me, catching me before I bounce off him and tumble to the floor. I look up, and we stare into each other’s eyes for a few long beats before he slowly dips his head. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and my breath catches in my throat.
Just before his lips brush over mine, the elevator dings and the doors swish open. We break apart like a couple of teenagers getting walked in on by their parents, and I scurry off the elevator like my life depends upon it.
Fuck . What almost just happened? Did Royal almost kiss me? Or did I imagine the whole thing?