Chapter 7
Olivia
Karaoke.
Karaoke.
Did they just say karaoke?
Yep, they definitely said it.
My worst nightmare is now sitting in front of me.
Singing in public. Absolutely not. I have always been a shy girl.
I love music; give me the house to myself and I can guarantee you that I have music playing loud.
Probably a little too loud. And I’m singing, also probably a little too loud.
But I'm by no means a singer, I'm not good at it, and to stand up in front of a large number of strangers and sing is an absolute hard no for me.
But it's okay I don’t have to sing, right? I can sit quietly at the bar with my drink and listen to everyone else sing. My internal monologue is going a mile a minute and I'm trying to avoid the panic from showing on my face. I was already nervous about tonight before karaoke was even considered.
“And for you?” the bartender asks, snapping me out of my head. He looks vaguely familiar and I definitely know him from somewhere, but can’t place him.
“Oh um, just a gin and tonic please,” I stammer.
“Just a gin and tonic? You don’t want anything off the specialty menu?” Noah asks, surprised.
“I didn’t know there was a specialty menu.”
“You really don’t come home much do you?” “Can you give us a specialty menu and a few minutes please?” Noah asks to the bartender.
“Not really, at least not in the last year”
“Ollie, Carter worked out a deal with Mark and Melinda, they source all their cranberries for their cocktails from you and make everything in house.”
That is a huge deal for the farm, Mark and Melinda own not only Fishy’s but the bed and breakfast that hosts basically every tourist we get on this side of the lake.
The number of people our Cranberry Farm reaches with this deal alone is insane.
It makes me proud to be a Bennett and of Carter, who has more formally taken over the farm, for getting a deal this big.
“You didn’t know?”
I shake my head no. “Carter and I are more of the fight first and speak later type of siblings.”
“I remember that. Ya’ll used to fight like your lives depended on it and then Cole and I had to pick up the pieces.”
The warm, homey feeling creeps back into my abdomen as mentions of our lives in the past, bringing me back to a time where he was my home. I love remembering back to those days, where the world didn’t feel so heavy and it was just me and the boys conquering everything.
“Ready?” the bartender asks, coming back to us again.
“Yeah, can I have the Fishy’s Fog? Please.”
“And a float for you?” he asks Noah.
“Yessir” he says with a smile. I give him a pointed look in response.
“There is only one place to drink here” he says with a shrug.
He’s not wrong. Fisher Creek is an incredibly small town, with basically one stoplight to get you through the center of town, but it is weird to imagine him here regularly.
“We have to sing tonight,” Noah says to me as he comes from behind me to take the seat beside me.
“Absolutely not! I don't do karaoke,” I respond.
“You used to love singing, you’d scream-sing as loud as possible in my car.”
He isn’t wrong. I’m comfortable with Noah, and we used to drive down this exact road to the lake with the windows down and the music fifteen octaves too high singing. I typically had my hair down and at least one arm out the window, dancing in the car seat as we drove.
“Yeah, in my house. I’ll need about eight more of these to get up there,” I say as the bartender passes us our drinks. “You go. You always sang just as loud as I did.”
I should have known right then that this is going to be the biggest mistake of the night. The corner of his mouth rises into this competitive smirk as if he just won the lottery as he saunters off to the DJ stand. He signs himself up, and I swear he is laughing to himself as he walks back.
Noah is tall and strikingly handsome. The army really did a number on him, in the best way.
Then again, what else is there to do in the desert?
I’ve kept in touch with Bec over the last few years, even when Noah and I weren’t speaking.
She’s my sister and it's not her fault that everything fell apart. I know he was overseas for the majority of the last ten years traveling all across the world with the U.S. Army. I know he was also stationed in Iraq for a few years but don’t know much more than that.
His clearance keeps him from talking about work a lot of the time.
But looking at him walking back to our spot at the bar, it’s nearly impossible not to notice how big he is.
He has always been super tall, but was considered lanky before boot camp.
I guess, after boot camp is the last time I actually saw him in person, and he has bulked up a lot.
Before, you could see the starting definitions of his muscles in his arms but nothing like it's now. He’s wearing these dark blue jeans that fit his waist, backside, and thighs perfectly, and what’s probably a white t-shirt underneath a dark hunter green sweater, with brown cowboy boots tucked away under his jeans.
His jawline is perfectly chiseled and his hair a dark brown wavy mess that’s just long enough I could run my fingers through it, and that’s exactly what I want to do.
I always loved the idea of wrapping my fingers into the hair of my partner as we kiss up against the wall, but that’s never an option with Noah because he always kept his hair short.
This is certainly a pleasant surprise that I will be fantasizing over later after a few gins.
Noah is fortunate to have perfect teeth and never once needed braces, which, to this day, I’m still jealous of.
Even after two and a half awkward years of metal filling my mouth, my teeth are far from perfect.
“Don’t worry, I only signed myself up…for now,” he says, smirking at me as he finally reaches his barstool.
“You wouldn’t dare” I gasp.
He just shrugs his shoulders in reply. There is something almost electric about being near him again. It’s like we are two magnets with a constant pull near each other.
“Ollie, we should talk about…” he starts to say before I interrupt him.
“No, I don’t want to talk about it. We haven’t seen each other in ten years. Let’s just have fun tonight.”
His face drops as he looks down to me, and I already know he’s unsure of how to respond.
He’s just going to apologize for Oklahoma, and the rain, and everything about that trip.
I may still be hurt from that weekend but it’s not going to stop me from having a great night, at the bar when I would otherwise be sitting at home staring at the ceiling.
We continue chatting, people-watching, and listening to the people sing karaoke until we hear,
“All right, everyone, get ready for Fisher Creek’s very own Noah!”
I cringe hearing this. The DJ knows Noah.
He’s done this before. I don’t know why I’m surprised.
Noah has never cared what anyone thinks about him and has always loved being the life of the party.
Noah gets up to head over to the microphone, and I grab my cell phone to record and ask the bartender for another round.
The music starts, and Noah starts singing, and I’m instantly reminded that Noah, like his mom, can sing.
And they’re good. I feel the redness in my cheeks start to fade as a giant smile crosses my face.
I find myself quietly singing along to the song hiding behind the camera, swaying to the music when I start to feel eyes on me.
Not just one set of eyes, but many. I stop swaying, stop singing, and start to look around.
The entire bar has now turned and is watching me, my face starts to heat rapidly and my eyes are getting big.
The secondhand embarrassment from before begins raging through my veins again and the rumbles and tumbles in my stomach start turning.
Why are people looking at me?
“He’s singing to her…” I hear the man three barstools down say to his wife. Her face becomes soft, and welcoming as if this is the cutest event she has ever seen. And then I hear it…
My eyes start to well up with tears. I fight back the emotions.
He is singing the Backstreet Boys.
This is not happening. Not here. Not now.
I don’t hear the rest of the song. I don’t hear anything until the song ends and the whole crowd erupts into clapping and hollering. The Backstreet Boys, I’ve always had a soft spot for their music but it’s definitely more about the lyrics.
I fully expect to be transported into that moment years ago standing outside his hotel in the rain. The day we lost it all. I expect to be overwhelmed with emotions both good and bad. But it’s an overwhelming warm feeling like I’ve come home.
I take my phone out to text Mason and Caroline before Noah makes it back to me.
Me: Guys…Noah just sang a karaoke song to me…at a bar in front of everyone.
Mason: LOL! PLEASE FORGIVE HIM.
Caroline: OMG!!! THAT IS ADORABLE. Get in his bed. Or I will.
I quickly put my phone away as Noah approaches and I feel the fight of emotions in my brain take place.
I struggle to decipher between being angry, after all these years, the first thing he does is sing me a song, and embarrassment, because I absolutely detest being the center of attention and now the entire bar is watching me and my reaction, and giddiness, because there is always some part of me that will be attracted to Noah, that will love him despite wanting to hate him, wanting to be angry about that day ten years ago but there is just something inside me that can’t.
Clearly, the giddiness is winning with the sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to wrap my arms around his neck and hug him.
Which is absolutely terrifying, but, honestly, fuck it.
I’m only home for a few days and let’s be real, he will probably be heading back to whatever country he is in now for the next ten years.
What will one night of fun hurt? Nothing.
I’ll go back to my normal life tomorrow and this will all just be a memory.
Seeing as the giddy, happy, missing Noah side of my brain won, I jump off my barstool and directly into his arms, with our first true touch of the night.
He smells like cedar and sandalwood. My favorite scent, how did I not notice it earlier?
I feel the surprise in his entire body as it tenses but it only lasts a split second before I also feel one of his hands on the small of my back and the other with a firm grip under my leg hoisting me into the air before he spins in a circle.
I squeal and bury my face into his shoulder gripping tighter as a deep laugh escapes my body.
“God, I have missed that laugh,” he says as he puts me down.
I try to remember the last time I laughed so deeply and genuinely. I know my life has changed drastically, I laugh with Mason and Caroline all the time. But this laugh is different, it comes from my toes and leaves me wanting more.
“I have missed you,” I whisper, afraid to let him know, but curious if he missed me
too.
“Ollie….” he starts, and I start to panic as my shoulders drop toward my feet. “I have missed you every day since”
“Stop. Nope. I’ve missed you but we’re not talking about that day. Not now. Not here,” I cut him off before he can finish that sentence. That day is too painful and I’ve already vowed tonight to be fun.
“Ollie, we have to talk about it,” he says quietly.
“Probably. But not now, not in public,” I say, willing my voice not to break.
“Okay,” he agrees, wrapping me back into his arms. “Okay.”
We order more drinks, continue talking and listening to the people around us, and the music, and just take in our surroundings.
The silence between us doesn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable.
He leaves his hand on the small of my back while we sit there.
It feels natural and as if we’re falling back into our old ways.
After having a few “Fog’s” as the locals call it, I’m feeling giddy and happy in his arms. I listen to Noah sing two more songs, the smile growing bigger with each song.
Mark and Melinda, the owners, have popped out from the back a few times, trying to convince me to sing.
Melinda even offers to sing a duet with me.
“Nope. Sorry, guys, not tonight,” I say, taking a giant sip of my drink, coughing slightly because it’s definitely more gin than juice. I know at this point there is no way either of us are going to be able to drive back to his house, let alone, me driving back to the farm tonight.
My heart rate skyrockets and panic starts to sink in. I know I can’t drive home, but what am I going to do? Stay with Noah? At his house? No.