Chapter 5
GRANT
“I’m going out tonight. I think you should come.”
Adam adjusts the collar of his neon-pink polo shirt. He’s pulled his long hair up.
I laugh before catching his expression. “Wait. Are you serious? Uh, no. I’m beat.”
It’s another Friday night, the third week of August, and yet another weekend that has arrived in a haze of exhaustion. My rotation’s going well, though I’m still no closer to figuring out Kendall’s deal. I’m awed by her clear brilliance and set on edge by her dislike of me, all at the same time.
“You never go anywhere, though. I think you’ll enjoy yourself. You can have one drink, unwind a little. Meet some other friends of mine.”
“I have a conference tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.”
“I’m busy tomorrow too, obviously,” Adam says. “I’m only going to stay out for a couple of hours. I think it’s something we need to do sometimes, you know?”
I scratch my chin. I don’t get a lot of leisure time, that’s true, but maybe Adam has a point. I’ve been stressed, and I probably need a little time to disconnect from the realities of becoming a surgeon.
“You could meet someone,” Adam says. “Blow off some steam.”
Now that is really tempting. Despite my fatigue, I’m starting to feel the effects of my dry spell. It’s not just that I need sex, either, though that would be ideal. I think I might need to touch another human being in a setting that doesn’t involve surgical gloves and a scalpel.
“Fine,” I say. “I’m in.”
“Really?” Adam’s face transforms, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Awesome! We’re meeting for some apps first, then heading to a place down the street.” Adam is from Texas, and his drawl sounds a bit more pronounced when he’s excited.
“Yeah, you’re right. I need a little more fun in my life, I think. Where’s this place we’re going? After we eat, I mean?”
“It’s a karaoke bar. The best one, I’ve heard.”
I groan. “God, I hate karaoke.”
“Nah, it’s going to be a great time. You’ll see.”
And what the hell? I don’t get to do much for fun. Maybe I’ll even get lucky and meet someone.
Nikki’s Karaoke Bar of Louisville has the sort of dive bar quality common to the part of the city we live in: exposed brick, sticky tile floors, worn pool tables in the corner of the room, a pervasive stale beer smell, and a little raised platform stage backlit by neon lights, where a group of tipsy thirty-something women currently belts out “Baby Got Back,” of course.
I almost turn and walk out. This is so not my scene.
Adam urges me on in front of him. Adam’s friends are definitely more boisterous than me.
I’m out of place, as though Adam invited his one killjoy friend who blabbers on about gas prices and takes jokes too literally.
I paste on a smile. I can be fun, right?
Or has residency stolen my ability to do that?
I order myself a gin and tonic and take a seat near the back of the room with Adam and the others. If this doesn’t go well, I’ll have one drink and take a cab back home.
My eyes catch on a woman in a glittery dress by the bar. My gaze travels down.
And oh my fuck. She’s gorgeous. My lips freeze at the edge of my glass. The owner of said dress possesses a pair of gorgeous tan legs, thick, long brunette hair threaded with caramel, and a dip at the front of her outfit highlights some of the most luscious cleavage I’ve ever seen.
Bingo.
I have to talk to this woman. I barely glimpse a hint of her profile, but I stare, transfixed, as she turns my way a little more. I’ve never wanted to see someone’s face so badly.
Time swells, then collapses, as she faces me. An icy cold sensation sweeps over my skin.
My mouth drops open. Damn it. We’re in a large city with hundreds of bars, and the one person I don’t want to see is in this one.
Kendall. Of course it’s her. She’s dominated some of my recent thoughts, and though I’m serious about not hooking up with coworkers, she looks delicious enough to eat, even if she won’t deign to give me the time of day.
She’s dressed like she might be attending the Grammys in her sparkly blue dress, but it isn’t ridiculous on her. Her personality is big and loud.
I keep watching as she turns to her friend.
Kendall’s tall, and her blonde friend, an athletic-looking woman in a more subdued cotton sundress, is even taller than Kendall, around six feet, if I had to guess.
They navigate back to their own table, moving through the crowd like two towering, elegant queens, drawing other eyes as they go.
Adam nudges me. “Earth to Grant.” He follows my gaze to Kendall’s table, where she and her friend join another woman with short, blue-tipped hair. “Yeah, I noticed those three when we came in. Pretty girls.”
Pretty seems an understatement, especially for Kendall, but I nod. “The one in the blue dress is the nurse who hates my guts.” I down a swallow of my gin. “So, that’s fun.”
“Ah. Yikes.” Adam grimaces. “Hopefully she doesn’t think you followed her here. It’s going to be awkward if she thinks you’re stalking her.”
“I wasn’t even thinking that, but thanks.”
“You aren’t going to say hi?”
“Nah. Maybe she won’t see me.” My eyes are still fixed on Kendall.
“Good call. Don’t say anything, just sit in the shadows and stare at her.”
I swing my face toward Adam. “And what would you have me do? She won’t want to talk to me. She hates my guts.”
I return my attention to the stage, where the first notes of “Girl on Fire” play. To my shock, Kendall takes the stage. She clutches the microphone with an easy confidence, smiling at her friends and the rest of the crowd. She still hasn’t seen me, apparently.
She doesn’t look nervous at all. She winks at someone in the crowd, shimmying her hips a little, and blood rushes from my head in a dizzying wave. My God.
She can’t stand me. Frankly, I don’t like her either. But I’ve never found someone so attractive in my whole life.
Her mouth opens, and my jaw drops. She has rich, sultry vocals, a beautiful alto if I remember choir sections correctly, and I straighten in my seat.
“Jesus,” Adam says. “She can sing.”
“Yeah.” I’m unable to look away. She sways with the beat and closes her eyes when her voice crescendos. Is this girl good at everything?
Something about her singing scratches at my subconscious. Where have I heard it before? Is she some secret starlet or something? Has she been on the radio? No, that’s stupid. Still, I cock my head, trying to place the sound.
She belts out the whole song, then takes a bow at the end of her performance, giggling in front of the drunken crowd, who all cheer for her.
Her friends high-five her when she returns to their table.
Her smile widens. How can she do that? How can she be so awful to me when she’s so joyous with everyone else?
Her hatred is a blemish on my otherwise mundane life.
No one has disliked me this way for a long time.
I lean toward Adam, whose friends look like they might be gearing up for some performance of their own. “I think I’m going to go,” I say.
Adam starts to protest, but I hold up my hand. “I know, I’m boring,” I say.
The truth is, I can hardly stand to watch Kendall anymore. I say goodbye to Adam and his friends, then I move toward the exit. I spare one last glance at Kendall, though, and unfortunately, she looks toward me at the same moment. Her eyes widen.
“Dammit,” I mutter.
We both freeze, and then I sigh and move toward her. I at least have to say hello. I squeeze by a few tables. Someone sloshes beer on me, and I curse.
Kendall, for her part, purses her lips before stretching them into a forced smile. It looks painful. Good grief, what is her fucking problem?
“Sorry,” I say, unsure what I might be apologizing for. I continue as she lifts her eyebrows. “My roommate dragged me here.” I gesture behind me.
She nods, then perhaps realizing she should be polite, points to her friends in turn. “That’s Joan,” she says, indicating the tall blonde, “and that’s Gwen. Girls, this is Grant.” She emphasizes my name with enough malevolence that my own eyes widen.
Gwen, the woman with the blue in her hair, glares. The venom in her gaze could burn me.
All right. I’ve had it now. When she said it was personal, I chalked up her distaste for me to something offhand I said or did the first time we met, but whatever it was, it must have been absolutely awful.
Her friends look like they hate me too. To be the object of such unmitigated ire bewilders me.
What the fuck have I done? And why won’t she tell me?
Has she lied to her friends about me? Created some weird fantasy where I’ve wronged her?
“Nice to meet you.” I offer my own tight smile. I look at Kendall again. “You have a beautiful voice.”
Her smile falters. “Thank you.”
“Okay.” I incline my head toward the door. “I was just heading out.”
I turn and walk away, my steps gaining speed as I near the exit. I’m done talking to that awful woman. I mean, sure, she’s beautiful and talented and smart. It’s too bad she’s unreasonable.
Someone tugs on my arm. I turn around, expecting Adam, but my mouth drops open at the sight of Kendall standing before me. She speaks to me over the low warble of a man singing “Wonderwall.”
“I know this doesn’t make any sense to you,” she says. “Me being such a bitch.”
My heart moves in my chest, a thumping rhythm that announces my discomfort. “I don’t understand why you hate me, no.”
She chews on her lip. My eyes fall there, to where she’s painted on some bright pink lipstick. For a quick flash, I imagine smudging it with my own mouth. I shake my head.
“You also don’t mince words,” I say. “At least from what I’ve seen. And you still won’t tell me what I’ve done.”
“Maybe you should think a little harder.” She fiddles with the hem of her dress, and my gaze flicks down.