Chapter 18
Performing has become a chore. I want to feel something again.
Gabe
Louie’s tonight, karaoke starts at 9.
You know I hate karaoke.
Gabe
Which makes zero sense. You literally want to make a living from being on stage. How is this different??
In so many ways…
Gabe
COME ON. If you don’t go it’ll be me, my sister, and her friends. Don’t make me sing solo.
Fine, I’m in.
Gabe
Really?? I had at least five song lyrics ready to be used to sway you. Can I use one??
No.
Gabe
Oh say can you see!
Gabe…
Gabe
By the dawn’s early light…
Is that… The Star Spangled Banner…?
Gabe
What so proudly we hailed…
Never mind, I’m not coming.
Gabe
I’m joking! Please come!
Anders???
I hate karaoke. I have this deep seated desire to be good at everything I do. I love being on stage because I have practiced, rehearsed, and perfected what I will be performing, and I know I’ll be good at it. Karaoke? Everyone expects me to be good because I have a decent voice, but I don’t like having songs sprung on me with the expectation that I’ll blow everyone out of the water. That, and drunk people can be surprisingly hard to please.
It does not help that I’m completely in my head about seeing Bex again. To say that I was shocked about her suggestion of friends with benefits would be the understatement of the century. In a million years, I never thought I’d hear those words come out of her mouth.
The more I think about it, though, the more it makes sense.
She’s scared.
And fuck, so am I.
It scares me how much I want Bex.
How much I desire her physically, yes, but also just how much I enjoy being in her presence. Earning her smiles, laughs, and now her moans and gasps.
I was pretty fucking angry at her suggestion. To be honest, it made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of all of her. But at this point, beggars can’t be choosers, so I’ll have to show her what being with me for real would look like. She can call it friends with benefits all she wants, but I know how great we can be together and now I’m going to fight for it.
Which might be hard to do when her brother is sitting across the table from me.
“So, I thought you said your sister and her friends were coming?”
Gabe looks up from his phone. “They are.”
“And since when do you need a buffer while hanging out with those three?”
He looks back down at his phone, brow furrowing. “I don’t need a buffer. I just miss you, man.”
Yeah, I don’t buy that.
“Okay, well I was going to sign you and Luci up for a song. You cool with that?”
That gets his attention.
“What? Why? I mean I can… but maybe I shouldn’t. Do you think I should? Should I sing with her?”
“Right. So glad you didn’t need a buffer tonight. Want to talk more about that?” Maybe if he does, he won’t notice if I’m spending some extra time with Bex tonight.
Gabe glances to the side, massaging the back of his neck.
“I don’t fucking know, maybe there’s—” He stops short and I follow his gaze to the door.
“Wow,” we both say at the exact same time before slowly turning our heads toward each other, expressions mirrored as we narrow our eyes in perfect synchronization.
Before either of us has a chance to say anything, Bex, Luci, and Riz arrive at the table.
“What’s with the weird faces?” Riz asks as she slides into the booth after Luci, leaving the spot beside me open for Bex.
I can see on Gabe’s face that he’s fighting the urge to turn toward Luci, but his eyes remain narrowed on me. “No weird faces.”
Bex is still standing by the table looking back and forth between us. With a shake of her head she says, “Whatever, I’ll go get us drinks. Anyone want anything?”
“I’ll come with you!” Was that too eager? “Gabe, another beer?”
He nods before looking toward Luci and Riz. “Two margaritas?”
“Yes, please!” Luci responds, but I’m too busy navigating Bex away from the table, toward the bar.
Once we get out of direct eyeshot, I place my hand on her lower back, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “Hi.”
I can only see her profile, but the grin spreading across her face is undeniable. She tucks a curl behind her ear and turns her face toward me. “Hi.”
The bar is super crowded tonight, allowing me to pull Bex in front of me, boxing her in with my arms. I’m close enough that I feel her sharp intake of breath. “Gabe might see,” she whispers.
I look back over my shoulder and, just as I suspected, Gabe is completely locked in to whatever Luci is saying. I lean down close to her ear again, so my lips graze the shell. “I think we’ll be okay.” And just because I can, I give her ear the tiniest nibble, eliciting an unmistakable shiver.
“Glad to see you two together again,” booms Louie’s voice over the cacophony of bar noise. I feel Bex freeze, so I rub her shoulders reassuringly.
“Hey, Louie! Can we get another beer for Gabe, three margaritas, and a coke for me?”
“Sure thing, boss. Give me just a second.” With a wink toward Bex, he says, “Told you he’s a good one.”
While Louie busies himself making drinks, Bex turns toward me. “Not drinking tonight?”
Again, I’m surprised by how she doesn’t know that I’m sober. I know that’s not a conversation I want to have here, though, so I just reply with, “Not tonight.”
She shrugs, not bothered by this information, which is nice. Some people are very insistent that I drink if they’re drinking which leads to the awkward bomb drop when I tell them I don’t drink alcohol anymore.
With Bex facing me now, I get a chance to admire the low cut corset type top she has on, with just the barest peak of stomach showing, before my eyes glide down to the painted on jeans she’s wearing.
“Tonight’s going to be hard.”
Quizzically, she looks at me. “Why?”
“Well, we have this whole look but don’t touch thing going on, which means tonight is going to be hard because I’m going to be hard.”
Bashfully she breaks eye contact and murmurs, “You can touch.”
“Oh, can I?” I bring the tips of my fingers up to the waistband of her jeans. Immediately, goosebumps rise across her stomach.
She watches for a second before grabbing my wrist. “Just… be careful.” Her eyes dart over my shoulder and I know she means don’t let Gabe catch us.
Removing her hand from my wrist, I dip my fingers lower into her waistband, grabbing onto the string of her panties and pulling slightly. She inhales sharply through her nose before letting her eyes close and her head fall back, revealing the long column of her neck. A neck I’d love to mark. I twist the flimsy string once before pulling my fingers out of her jeans. The message is clear: I’m planning on toeing the line tonight and she’s going to love every minute of it.
I was right.
Tonight has been hard. The sexiest mix of teasing and torture. Bex is more than willing to play along in our game of discreet touches. She’s always ready to rise to the challenge with me. The problem is, I’ve been sporting a semi—okay, more than a semi—all night. And it’s definitely not going away anytime soon seeing as the girls are hopping up on stage for their karaoke number.
The opening chords for “Love is a Battlefield” by Pat Benatar start blasting through the speakers and an honest to God snort comes out of me. Bex grabs her mic and winks at me before all three of them start shrieking the lyrics out at the top of their lungs. It definitely doesn’t sound good, but it does have a lot of heart, and I can tell Bex is having the time of her life with her best friends.
I love seeing her like this. Letting her guard down. Dancing in a way that should be illegal. And I know she’s just trying to get me to snap. She has only had one drink tonight so she’s definitely not doing that little hip shake thing because she’s drunk. My fingers ache to grab her by the belt loops and haul her perfect ass out of here.
I cover my smile with my hands as the song comes to an end and the girls continue to giggle, making their way back to the table. When they get there, Bex plants her hands on the edge, pushing her perfect tits up in that fucking top. “Alright, now it’s your turn. What are you going to sing, killer?”
“Really with that nickname?” I ask with a groan. She just nods, hiding her own smile with a tantalizing lip bite. “I’m not singing tonight, Baby Bardot.”
We’re locked in a staring contest when Gabe chimes in, “Oh yes, you are!”
Both of our heads snap to him, but my facial expression is more what the fuck, while Bex’s is filled with glee bordering on maniacal.
“You know what? Fine. I’ll sing. At least I know it’ll sound better than whatever you guys just screeched out.”
But Bex doesn’t seem the least bit offended by that comment. “Have fun up there, Olsson,” she says with a cheeky smirk.
Scowling, I turn to Gabe. “What are we singing?”
“You’ll see.”
Well, fuck.
We hop up on stage and he hands me a mic. “I’m Elton, you’re Kiki.” I barely have time to process what that means before “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” starts to play.
Actually, this is the perfect song. And I sing it while staring at Bex the entire fucking time, taking immense pride in watching her squirm under my attention.
After the song is over, I jump off the stage and beeline it toward Bex. Bending over, I whisper in her ear, “Bathroom. Now. I’ll knock six times and you’ll open the door. Be waiting for me like a good girl. Nod twice if you understand me.” She nods twice and I head to the bar for another coke. When I look back at the table, she’s gone.