My body got knocked about as the screaming crowd bombarded us with hugs, but my eyes stayed locked on my sexy new admirer. At this point, I wasn’t quite sure I could walk away from him unscathed.
In my preoccupied state, I’d almost missed Jace’s announcement. “You guys didn’t know your gorgeous new bartender could sing, did you? Would you like to hear her do another?”
The crowd roared to a deafening decibel, banging on any flat surface they could find while cat-calling and whistling through their fingers.
“Uh-uh.” I waved my hands back and forth, shaking my head. “No way.”
Jace grabbed me by the belt and tugged back forcefully as I tried to make my getaway. “Come on, guys, we aren’t letting her get away that easy, are we?”
I thought they couldn’t get any louder, but they did. Rick was laughing hysterically behind the bar, starting a hateful chant, “Eva, Eva, Eva.” Within seconds, the entire place was shouting my name.
Note to self—make him pay for that.
I looked at Jace and mouthed, “I’m gonna kill you.”
Jace smiled and kissed the air in my direction.
With only a few seconds to make a song choice, the perfect one popped into my head. Turning to the band to ask if they knew it, I was pleased when the beginning notes to Demi Lovato’s Heart Attack sprung from the P.A.
Would Blake know I was singing it to him? Would he understand what was happening to me? That he wasn’t just anybody?
Yes, he would.
As soon as the opening lyrics passed my lips, claiming my defenses were up and I didn’t want to fall in love, Blake pushed off the wall and stood at attention. He’d gotten the message all right, loud and clear. I continued to sing, knowing full well he’d get the meaning and know he made me actually want to be with him, but that I was too nervous to go through with it. So many emotions changed those beautiful features as I witnessed his internal roller coaster.
Our gazes locked and, at the start of the first chorus, he prowled toward me like a hungry lion claiming his territory. His focus trained on me as he meandered through the crowd, authoritative and powerful, his eye on the prize.
I kept singing my heart out to him, arms banging on my chest and being thrown about. I hit the last high part, right before the ending chorus. By that point I was so lost in pouring out my soul, the crowded bar might as well have been empty.
By the last chorus, Blake was standing directly in front of me, fists clenched at his sides. His eyes were wild as he worked his jaw. The last note echoed off the walls, and I stared at him, my chest heaving with the exertion of that song.
His quizzical eyes desperately searched mine for an answer as I stepped around the mic stand. “Angel?”
“Yes?” My scratchy throat made my voice sound hoarse.
“Just so we’re clear, you were singing that to me, right?” He was so close, but made sure not to touch me. He looked hopeful and scared at the same time.
My chest constricted. I murmured, “Yes.” I couldn’t look away. He needed to know.
Blake took a sharp intake of breath and straightened his body. Squaring his jaw, his eyes turned determined yet silently pleading. “Be with me.” It wasn’t a question.
I stood silent for a moment, trying to work through this internal tug-of-war. Not only was all of this happening so fast, and so foreign to me, but I couldn’t let him get too close, no matter how badly I wanted to. “I can’t.”
“Why not? If you feel the same way, I need to know why not.” His pointed glare commanded an explanation.
“I just can’t, I—” I closed my eyes.
“Don’t do this.” I couldn’t tell if it was a plea or a threat. Or both.
I didn’t respond.
“Angel?”
Was I really going to do this to him? My first shot at something real?
Yes, I was.
Eyes still downcast, I delivered my famous line, “I have a boyfriend.” Then I forced myself to look up. Though I’d recited it countless times, this was the first time I felt the lonely, empty desperateness it encompassed.
Blake flinched, disappointment flickering across his face before his jaw clamped shut. I watched a wall go up as his eyes iced over. He gave me a few more seconds to change my mind, staring at me mercilessly. When I didn’t respond, he hardened his resolve further. “Fine. Have it your way then.” He turned on his heel and walked out without even a backward glance.
A hairline fracture made its way down the center of my heart.
My soul ran after him, kicking and screaming, and then turned back to glower at me. I instantly turned arctic. I couldn’t feel my limbs and nothing was responding. Though I could feel each knock of my pulse at each pressure point, I felt dead inside.
How did we get here? I wanted to run after him and stop him. Take it all back and tell him I was sorry . . .
But I couldn’t.