Chapter 14 #2
Valen’s sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone, but looks up as soon as he hears the door open, then freezes.
I crumble under his scrutiny. “What?” I touch my face. “Do I have something—”
“No. You’re—” He clears his throat and tugs on his neck. “Nothing. Are you done in there?”
“Yup. It’s all yours.”
He grabs his bag and disappears without a backward glance.
The shower starts, and so do wicked images of him. What does he look like naked now?
Freaking hell. He’s naked. In the shower. Valen Stone is naked in my bathroom, and I can’t unsee all the dirty images my mind is now creating just for me.
I’m not this person.
I don’t perv out over people.
I don’t imagine them naked, in bed, or in me…
Gah. I need a distraction. Now.
There must be something here to keep my mind occupied. I search the small table, then the end table, and there on top are laminated menus, flyers for mini golf and…
My heart thumps wildly as I stare at the bathroom door. There’s no way he knew this, right?
I turn over the flyer for the Montvale Tavern that says, Karaoke Every Thursday Night! 9 p.m. to Midnight!
It’s as though someone handed him a road map to my bucket list and now it’s all falling into our path.
I check my phone. 7:30.
Karaoke in a dive bar is at the top of my list.
The threads of my sweater protest as I tug the ends more tightly around myself.
The bathroom door opens, and Valen emerges in jeans and a T-shirt. His damp hair falls onto his forehead, and I forget how to form words because apparently teenage love never goes away.
I’m blinking too quickly to be natural but can’t stop it either. Instead, I thrust the flyer in the air. “Did you do this?”
He scans it quickly with a small tremor at the corner of his lips. “Karaoke.”
“Karaoke,” I croak. “On Thursdays.”
He pins me in place with his gaze. “You want to go?”
“I—” Do I? Can I? “Not really? No. Maybe?”
“It’s on your bucket list.”
“A list I made when I didn’t know I’d have to face all of them within twelve hours.” I’m slightly hysterical, and my breathing is so fast my chest heaves.
“Five seconds, Honeybee.”
The nickname makes my breath catch. He’s been using it all day—slipping it in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. But it cuts me to the quick every time because he doesn’t remember. Not really. Not the important things.
“You can do anything for five seconds.”
My legs tremble at his words. They’re exactly what he used to say to me when I was being punished. He’d help me through it five seconds at a time.
He may not realize it, but my Valen still exists in that battered mind of his. He’s still the same boy I fell in love with—he just has more scars now.
It’s something else we have in common.
Valen raises a playful brow in challenge. It’s how he got me to climb our tree the very first time too. Another sign that his memories of us weren’t wiped away completely.
“I don’t know if I can stand up in front of a crowd on my own,” I admit, only to have my skin blaze with heat.
“Then I’ll do it with you.” He scowls as though he can’t believe he just said that.
“What if I’m terrible?”
“Then you’ll fit right in. No one is good at karaoke. That’s what makes it so fun.”
“What if—”
He crosses the room with determined strides and takes my face between his calloused palms. “Clover. What if you stop playing the what-if game? You’re already doing things you thought were impossible. You’re here, with me.” His thumb caresses my cheek, and I lean into it. “What’s one more?”
I’m going to kiss him. Right here. In this murder motel with the terrible lighting and fungus-growing carpet.
I lift onto my toes. His blue eyes glow dangerously as a low growl escapes the back of his throat.
So, so close. He leans down—I push forward.
We’re less than an inch apart. So close I smell the mint of his toothpaste and the woodsy scent of his cologne.
My eyes drift closed when I feel the ghost of his lips dragging across mine.
“Y’all hungry?” Chief pounds on the door, and I gasp for breath. “Diner’s got a special on burgers.”
Valen drops his hands, and I almost pitch forward.
Our moment is shattered, but the desire—that’s definitely not one-sided—hangs cloyingly thick in the room.
“Yeah,” I call out with a shaky voice. My gaze cuts boldly back to Valen. “Starving.”
We joined Chief for decent burgers at the diner, and it suppressed my anxiety for a solid hour. Now I’m running through all the best reasons to back out of karaoke—it’s late, I can’t sing, I don’t have proper attire, my burger may have given me food poisoning.
I stare at myself in the chipped motel mirror, scrutinizing everything. My outfit. My hair. My entire existence.
“You look perfect,” Valen says from the bed.
I jolt as if his words electrocuted me. I didn’t know he was watching me. “Perfect,” I snort. “Maybe for someone who’s 99.9% sure she’s going to throw up.” I should have just stayed in my loungewear.
“Perfectly terrified is a good look on you, Honeybee.”
My shoulders slump as I exit the bathroom and stand with fidgeting limbs at the foot of the bed. Valen, on the other hand, is perfectly relaxed, with his ankles crossed and one arm propped beneath his head.
“Clover.” A shiver works down my spine at his tone. “No one will force you to do anything you’re not ready for. Not even that pushy old guy next door.”
“I know.” I puff out my cheeks and exhale. “But I want to.” Mostly.
A small dimple peeks through on the side of his cheek. “That’s the spirit. You should really tone down the confidence though. We wouldn’t want anyone thinking the great Clover Danes has an ego the size of Texas.”
“Shut up,” I chuckle before tossing a pillow at his face.
He catches it easily and appears to glide toward me. He has the grace of a panther that I’ll never possess.
“Hey.” His voice is soft now. Serious. And a breath away from my lips. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
An unladylike snort escapes, blasting his chin with hot air. “I’m literally shaking.”
He really needs to stop using cologne. It gives him an unfair advantage.
“Maybe.” He touches my chin, the barest grazing of skin that tilts my face toward his. “But it’s still true.”
So close. We are so close. His eyes are an impossible shade of light blue that looks silver in certain lights. I would count the different refractions of it if I had time. If my brain were working properly.
“Valen—”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“We doin’ this or what? I’m not getting any younger, ya know?” Chief’s voice is gruff through the door, and Valen drops his hand from my face. Again.
“We’re coming!” I yell, too loudly. So loudly that Valen flinches back a step and I smack a hand over my mouth in shock while I mourn the loss of his proximity.
“Ready?” he asks. But I see it in his eyes. That hunger. That pining. That passion that’s woven itself through our DNA.
“Yes, I’m so ready,” I say. And I’m only lying about the karaoke this time.
The Montvale Tavern doesn’t smell too differently than the murder motel. It has a heavy scent of beer and questionable life choices.
Dark wood, half-working neon signs, pool tables in the corner with broken cues lining the wall—it’s everything I hoped a dive bar would be. And in the center of it all is a karaoke setup that appears to have survived several decades and possibly a barroom brawl…or twelve.
Currently, a very drunk man is murdering what might be country or an old-school rap song. It’s hard to tell through the yeehaw-ing and grunts.
We spot an open booth in the back while Chief orders a bucket of beer because that’s how they roll around here.
“This is a terrible idea,” I mutter.
“The fun ones usually are,” Valen says, taking my hand in his to help me into the booth.
“I can’t sing.”
He chuckles, then nods toward the stage. “Neither can that guy. You’ll fit right in.”
“Not comforting.” I cross my arms over my chest. It’s a defensive move, but I need the protection from what’s to come.
Why did I ever agree to this in the first place? My only explanation is that Valen blinds me with his…aura.
He tosses a three-ring binder onto the table. “Pick a song, Clover.”
Where the heck did he even get this thing?
I flip through the pages, but there are too many options, and my spiral starts spinning—what if I’m terrible? What if everyone stares? What if—
“Breathe,” Valen says quietly into my ear. His hand finds its home on my thigh, and I instantly lean into him.
I embrace the warmth of his hand on my jeans. Enjoy the gentle weight when he presses his fingers into my thigh one at a time. Slowly, my body regulates without having to count.
“Okay.” I point to a random song. “This one.”
“Good choice,” Valen says without ever breaking eye contact.
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“Doesn’t matter. You picked it, therefore it’s perfect.”
That tightness in my chest undoes a single knot.
He stands before I can change my mind and submits my song. He and Chief return at the same time.
I’ve only taken a few sips of my Yuengling when my name is called, and I drop the beer all over the table.
“Clover,” the KJ calls. “You’re up.”
The room tilts as Valen moves quickly to mop up my mess with a handful of napkins, and my legs turn to Jell-O as I stand.
“Want me to come with you?” Valen asks, the heat of his words warming the side of my face.
How does he move so quickly?
I shake my head, pull my cardigan tighter, then tug it closed one more time for protection. Do I want him to come with me? Yes. Do I need to face some battles alone? Also yes.
Even if I hate it.
“You’re sure?”
I smile, but I can feel it sit awkwardly on my face. I probably resemble the Joker right now. “I’m sorta sure.”
He squeezes my elbow. “I’ll be right here,” he promises. “If you need me.”
I walk to the stage with my pulse rushing through my ears.