Chapter 3 #2
I sucked in a breath, then smiled widely and faced forward, buzzing from the inside.
This was the way two people who had been eyeing each other for months should take the next step.
We were together but surrounded by people.
We got to enjoy a fun experience together, but with enough space that my enthusiasm for just about everything I liked wouldn’t overwhelm Theo. The night couldn’t get more perfect.
And yet, once again, I’d underestimated things.
Hannah’s set was fantastic. She had a folky, almost witchy vibe that would have made Stevie Nicks proud.
The next up were Kyle and Andrea, a couple friends of our family who did jazz-sounding versions of heavy metal songs.
Everyone always loved them, even if no one really understood whether they did what they did seriously or to make fun of one genre or the other.
After them, Chase’s friend Darrell got up and played the old upright piano that lived in the corner while singing.
“Darrell always plays the classics,” I told Theo, leaning into him once more, as Darrell began a sweeping piano version of “Unforgettable”.
“He’s really good,” Theo whispered back.
The two of us had shifted enough during the previous songs that our hands, which we both had resting on our thighs, were so close that just a little flicker of a pinky and I would be able to hold his hand. It would have been too much too soon, but boy was I tempted.
“Who wants to come up and sing the next one with me?” Darrell asked, like he usually did at that point in his set.
“Which song are you singing?” Hannah called out, pretty much on cue. The two of them had developed a sort of an act as a way to drag some poor, unsuspecting soul up onto the stage to sing their hearts out when they wouldn’t have otherwise.
“Let’s do one for the ages, ‘Oh, Danny Boy’,” Darrell called out.
A couple people called out their enthusiasm.
“My Gran used to make me sing that all the time,” Theo laughed beside me.
“Really?” I perked up at once, glancing between Darrell and Theo.
Darrell noticed me at once. “You got a singer for me, Diccon?”
“Don’t you dare,” Theo hissed beside me. His eyes lit up with expectation, though.
I couldn’t resist. “Theo knows that song.”
“Then come on up, Theo, and stretch those vocal cords,” Darrell called back.
Theo hunched down, and for a few seconds, I worried that drawing attention to him was a terrible idea. I didn’t want to force him into anything, particularly given how shy he was, and I actually did want him to keep speaking to me.
But Theo turned out to be a good sport about the whole thing. With a little more encouragement from the audience, he stood, cheeks flooding with red, shuffled past me, which gave me an up-close view of his backside for two seconds, then walked up to the tiny dais that served as a stage.
“I’m assuming with hair and eyes like yours, you know this one,” Darrell said with a wink.
“I know it,” Theo said, then took a deep breath as Darrell danced his fingers across the keys to play the opening notes.
I was in no way prepared for the sounds that came out of Theo’s throat.
From the very first line of, “Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling”, it was pure magic.
The audience, which had been encouraging before, fell into a hush as Theo sang every note of the song with skill and devotion.
I’d never really appreciated how emotional the song was, but coming from Theo, I really felt all the longing and the loss.
By the time he was done, my throat was tight and my heart beat so hard I could hear it in my ears.
As the last note faded and Darrell played a piano flourish, the crowd burst into applause.
Immediately, Theo came out of the musical trance he’d been in and blushed up a storm as he bowed and nodded to the room.
He was quick to get off the stage and to make his way back to me. Since I was on my feet along with most of the rest of the room, and since the man deserved praise for a job well done, I drew him into a quick hug.
“That was great,” I said, thumping him on the back so he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable with my outpouring of affection. “I had no idea you could sing like that.”
“I’m second-generation Irish,” he said as we sat, definitely touching this time. “Singing is in my DNA.”
I was so deeply impressed that I didn’t even make a joke about potatoes. I just wanted to spend as much time as I possibly could with the amazing man next to me.
“That was really something else,” Gilbert said as he took the stage again to keep the show going. “Man, you’re welcome to come back and sing here whenever you want.”
“I’ll even play for you,” Darrell said as he left the piano.
“I’ll bring my violin next time,” Cathy, who had stood to take the stage with her guitar said.
“Thanks, I’ll think about it,” Theo said, raising a hand.
I could tell he was glad when everyone’s attention left him.
He didn’t stop smiling, though. He sat a little straighter for the rest of the evening and enjoyed the rest of the performers with a more relaxed energy.
I was so happy I’d invited him to the café that night that I couldn’t stop smiling myself.
“Aren’t you glad you broke your routine for this?” I said much later that night, after all the acts had performed and people had started to leave for home.
Theo, who had stayed behind to help me fold and stack the chairs so we could put tables back in the performance space, laughed. “Yes, you’ve got me. I am glad I came tonight.”
“And nothing bad happened,” I reminded him.
“Well, nothing bad yet,” he qualified his statement.
He was adorable, and he had no idea. “I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” I said as we met up in the back corner of the room, where the chairs lived when they weren’t in use.
“Aaw, my very own protector,” Theo said with a grin.
“I mean, someone has to keep you safe from blueberry coffee and office sprinkler systems,” I teased him.
“Even if I actually like the taste?” he asked, more at ease than I’d ever seen him. “Of the coffee, not the sprinklers. Eew.”
I couldn’t resist. The night had gone so well, and I was feeling deeply positive about everything. “Personally, I think there’s something wrong with your tongue. Maybe I should check just to be sure.”
It was pretty lame as far as lines went, but Theo didn’t back away from me or put me off as I stepped closer to him, rested a hand on the side of his face, and slanted my mouth over his.
It was an impulsive kiss. I hadn’t meant to take things beyond teasing, but my power to resist Theo’s charm had been shrinking with each second we spent together.
His mouth was amazing, too. I took him by surprise, so he was stiff for a moment, but with a long exhale, he loosened up, rested a hand on my waist, and kissed me back.
He kissed me back.
It was sweet and sultry and perfect. Neither of us were overeager or sloppy.
We were both just hungry and bold enough to go after what we wanted.
I slipped my tongue against the seam of his lips, then delved inside when he opened his mouth.
It was so good that I closed my eyes and savored the intimacy between us, hoping in my heart it would go farther.
And then it ended. Fast. Just like that.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Theo said, jerking away. His eyes held stark fear, like he thought he’d stepped way over some sort of boundary he assumed I had. “I’m really sorry.”
“No, it’s fine,” I managed to get out through my confusion.
“I shouldn’t have—I need to go.”
Without hesitation, he turned and walked away, nearly ramming into a few chairs that still needed to be collected. He kept going, out of the performance space and into the front of the café. He passed Sam coming into the back room, but he kept going until he bolted out the door.
Sam glanced to me as he kept going toward the piano. “What was that all about?” he asked.
My lips still tingled from our kiss and my heart was a long way from slowing down.
“I don’t know,” I said. I really didn’t know.