Fucking Laney. She signed me up to sing with Lawson. And to sing a George Michael, song, no less. “Freedom” is actually not the worst song choice in the world, but still. I don’t sing—can’t sing to save my life—so this is the equivalent of torture for me even as I make it through the first few lines of the song.
Just when I’m ready to hand the microphone over to Dean, the karaoke DJ, and pay to get out of this, Noelle joins us up on stage with an additional microphone. Stepping between me and Laws, she starts right in, singing on cue perfectly and … saving my ass from any more embarrassment. She moves around us as we all sing—with me singing softer to let her take the attention away from my off-tune singing—and I’m reminded again of how incredible she is. The way she’s smiling makes her unbelievably gorgeous, and the fact that her messy bun is messier from what we did earlier just does something to me.
Watching her as we—thank fuck—finish up the song, I’m reminded of the fact that she’s not only incredible in so many ways—beautiful, smart, witty, funny as hell and sexy—but she’s also so different from me. She deserves the real deal—the husband, the house with the white picket fence and the two perfect children. She deserves it all.
And, for the first time ever, I realize I’m gutted by the fact that I can never be the guy to give a woman all of that.
*
“Come home with me?” I whisper to Noelle as everyone’s saying their goodbyes at the end of the night. And a successful night it was—over a thousand dollars raised.
Her reaction isn’t at all what I’m expecting and I notice the indecisiveness in her eyes. Before she can form a response, Laney swings an arm around her shoulders, tugging her close, saying something to her. The picture they make, the two of them smiling at one another, gives me pause. Makes my mind veer off into dangerous territory, into the land of If things were different… And that never does me any good.
As Noelle and my sister, now with her cell phone in hand, have their heads together as they peer at something on the screen, I step closer. “Break it up, you two troublemakers.”
Laney glances up briefly before returning her attention to whatever she’s showing Noelle on her cell phone. “I just sent this one over to you. That’s a good one.” Something flickers across Noelle’s face but it’s gone before I can decipher it, in its place a smile I’m familiar with.
Zach walks up to where the three of us are standing, sliding his hand to Laney’s back. “Hey, gorgeous. You ready to head home?” His gray eyes look down at her with ardent affection and seeing my sister return it puts me more at ease than I can explain. It also makes me feel something I haven’t felt ever before.
Envy. Which is pretty damn crazy considering they’re in love and married and I’m never going to experience either one of those things.
“Ready,” Laney answers before stepping forward, wrapping me in a tight hug before pressing a quick kiss to my cheek, and whispers, “You deserve it, too, you know.” When she pulls away, at my questioning look she just winks and mouths, “Love you.” I mouth it back with a small smile, watching her walk off with Zach.
“Tonight was fun,” Noelle hesitates before offering an overly bright smile. “Well, I’m going to head on home. Bye.”
I’m still standing there, in a What the hell just happened? daze, before I manage to get my ass in gear and have the sense to go after her. Weaving my way through the attached rooms of the multi-room bar, I finally reach the door to the exit. Stepping out, I’m instantly hit with a wave of heat and humidity that encompasses Florida in mid-June. Finally spotting her walking along the sidewalk, I break into a light jog to catch up with her.
“Davis,” I call out, “you shouldn’t be walking alone this time of night.”
She doesn’t turn, even as I sidle up beside her, matching her pace. “Kavanaugh, it’s downtown Fernandina Beach. My pepper spray is in my hand and ready, just in case. I’ve got this covered.” Glancing down, I see that she does indeed have pepper spray at the ready. Still, I’m not a fan of her walking alone.
“Where’d you park?”
“Over on Alachua Street.”
It’s quiet and peaceful as we walk, now that we’re a distance away from the other neighboring bars and all the noise that goes along with it. Approaching her vehicle, I realize she hasn’t looked at me since we left the bar.
“You okay?”
“Yes.” She opens her car door, and I lay my hand on the top.
“What was my sister showing you on her phone?”
Finally, she meets my gaze. “She took some photos throughout the night and I was in a few of them. Said she’d send me the rest.”
“Oh?” As if on cue, I hear her phone beep in her small wrist purse. “Can I take a look?”