Chapter 12 #3
She loosens up more as she sings, pulling the microphone out of the stand, moving toward the rapt audience closest to the stage. Each one, men and women alike, lean forward whenever she comes close like she’s a magnet drawing them in.
“Goddamn,” one of them says, and I’m right there with him.
The song hits an instrumental break, and Addy hollers, “Get up here and dance with us.”
Harrison jumps over the front of the stage faster than I thought humanly possible.
I’m halfway to standing when Gabriel spins his guitar around his back, taking Thea’s hand and spinning her before pulling her back to his front.
His arm wraps around her waist and he whispers something in her ear that has her laughing.
Gabriel’s a good kid. A good cousin. Someone I can count on, despite his heckling.
Still, I have to fight down the urge to punch him.
I can see it. I’d rip him off that stage and take my rightful place behind her, slip my arms around her waist and tug her back against me while I glare at the audience, clearly communicating who she belongs to.
The vision’s so vivid I can feel the sliver of skin between her shirt and jeans under my fingertips.
Shit.
Someone claps me on the shoulder, and I look behind me to find the twins. I have too much family here.
“You screwed up there, cuz,” Johnny says with a faux-sympathetic wince. Tommy stands next to him with a shit-eating grin.
“Yeah, I know,” I say glumly. And, terrifyingly, none of it is an act.
The song winds down, thank god, ending back where it started with both sisters behind their microphones.
The bar goes wild, stomping and clapping.
A few people let out earsplitting whistles as others scream like they’re at a Kacey Musgraves concert.
Harrison grabs Addy and dips her, planting a huge kiss right there on the stage.
I watch Gabriel like a hawk, waiting to see what he’ll try, but he and Thea just laugh like old friends.
Harrison rushes the others off the stage and goes back up to the microphone.
While Addy takes her seat, Thea eyes the two seats available.
She catches my gaze, something warring behind her eyes before she lowers herself into Harrison’s original seat on the other side of Addy.
Right. Distance. She reminded me of that right before she went up on that stage and reorganized me at a cellular level.
“Oof, that’s gotta hurt. Poor Owen,” Tommy says behind me, not trying to keep his voice down, and the group of my cousins around him start whispering like old women gossiping at bingo night. At least it helps make my case that I’m still in love with her and can’t be set up with other people.
I grind my teeth together and focus back on the stage where Harrison stands behind the microphone again.
“Okay, patrons of Proof Yourself. They gave y’all the performance of a lifetime, so I hope you’ll be patient with me while I give my bride-to-be one more gift. It won’t be anything like that, but hopefully it will be just ridiculous enough to entertain.”
He takes a deep breath and steps back to the microphone, singing without backup.
The notes are all wrong, so messed up that I don’t recognize the song, but as the lyrics register, I realize it’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.
” Which, ironically, is how I feel about Thea right now.
Addy reaches for Thea, crushing her hand in a death grip as she looks at her with wide eyes.
Harrison finishes the first few lines, the entire bar shocked into silence by his complete lack of musical ability, then he pulls a whistle from beneath his shirt.
Two shrill, staccato tweets later, and music starts playing out in the crowd.
A trombone? A trumpet? I spin around to see a bunch of high school kids littered through the crowd playing their instruments.
Not sure how Harrison convinced the owner to let in underage kids, but Addy’s screaming and crying while Harrison starts singing—if we can call it that—again.
“I can’t believe you set this up!” Addy calls up to him as he finishes, wiping away the tears and turning to Thea for a quick makeup check before running up the steps to throw herself at him.
“What the hell was that?” Tommy asks behind us, voicing the question I’m sure most of the bar is thinking.
“That was a recreation of a scene from Addy’s favorite movie of all time,” Thea answers, blinking back tears. “And while Harrison doesn’t have the same singing ability as Heath Ledger, it was probably the best gift she’s ever received. He really knows her, doesn’t he?”
The question is directed at me. I nod, my eyes locked on her. “He does. And he loves her.”
“It’s just so fast,” she says.
“I know. I was nervous, too.”
“We can’t mess this up,” she whispers as she watches the happy couple on stage.
“We won’t.”
There’s so much trust in her eyes, and I know I have to follow through with that promise. Regardless of my reaction to her, of this instinct to be closer to her, I’ll see this through. For her.