Page 69 of Foster

In fact, I want to punch him.

But I hold my tongue because I don’t want to cause a scene. Mazzy’s back before me, going to tiptoes and pressing a quick kiss to my mouth. “See you later.”

I watch as she walks to the stage, talking easily with Leo. Yeah, don’t like that fucker.

Turning back to the bar to get my beer, I see King and Atlas leaning casually against it and smirking at me. When I reach them, Atlas grins. “That was some kiss you gave your nanny, dude.”

“Is that a perk of the job?” King asks.

“Shut the fuck up,” I reply, pushing past them to throw a twenty on the counter and take the beer the bartender left.

He looks at me. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks, Foster.”

“So, seriously,” King says with a backhanded slap to my arm. “What’s the deal? We all know you hired a hot nanny but none of us figured you hired her first and foremost because she was hot.”

Her looks had nothing to do with it, although admittedly, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. But I don’t feel like defending myself, especially when Mazzy is getting ready to sing. “It’s nothing, okay?”

Atlas cocks an eyebrow. “That didn’t look like nothing.”

“It’s not newsworthy,” I reply before taking a sip of my beer. Mazzy didn’t want the scrutiny so I try to quell it. “Two adults having a mutual good time. Not a big deal and it doesn’t interfere with her job.”

I downplay it because it’s the easiest way to get them to shut up. I don’t want them asking questions about the depth of my feelings for Mazzy. Not that I mind sharing with my mates, but I sure as shit don’t have things figured out completely and it’s complicated.

Plus… Mazzy is getting ready to sing and I want to be front and center for her.

I grab my beer and head back to the table. Mazzy and Leo are on their stools with guitars in hand, the noisy din of patrons filling the air. I want to tell them to all shut the fuck up and listen.

Leo adjusts his microphone slightly and by the time I’m taking my seat not ten feet from Mazzy, Leo is introducing himself.

King and Atlas join us as Mazzy leans forward, her eyes landing on me, and I get a smile that I know is just for me before she glances around at the crowd. Her voice is confident and strong. “Hello… I’m Mazzy Archer.” That husky tone washes over the room and when I look around, I see a lot of appreciative male stares. Hell, they’re coming from all the guys at my table. “Thank you for indulging us tonight. I promise we won’t make your ears bleed. While we have a planned set, we do take requests. Write them on a napkin and throw them in the guitar case and we’ll check them out. All green-colored bills are appreciated as well.” She leans over and pats Leo on the shoulder. “We got to keep this guy in ramen and cold beer.”

Some woman yells from the back. “I’ve got ramen and cold beer at my house.”

Leo looks for the source of the comment, grinning, and Mazzy laughs into the mic. “I bet you do. Okay, here we go folks. Hope you enjoy.”

Mazzy taps her hand on the front of her guitar, setting a beat, and they both start playing the familiar tune of “Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica.

“Dude,” Rafferty says appreciatively. “I love this song.”

And then to my utter shock, the circular stage starts a slow, clockwise rotation and I realize that everyone seated around the perimeter will get to see them perform.

“That’s fucking cool,” Camden mutters.

“Very cool,” I agree.

Leo takes the lead with his rough, gravelly voice, and Mazzy goes high register to harmonize. I don’t mind the rotating stage, finding every angle of Mazzy just as good as the prior. I get fucking goose bumps from their unique spin on the song, and the guys at the table all look stunned, as do many of the patrons.

When they finish, the entire place erupts in cheers and applause, more patrons who’d been standing in clusters moving closer to listen.

Mazzy goes solo on the next song, singing “Bad Guy” by Billie Eilish while Leo beats percussion on the front of his guitar. It’s a song I would’ve never thought could be slowed down and paired with an acoustic guitar to make a haunting ballad, yet she nails it. When she finishes, everyone stands up to applaud and she renders a bashful smile, murmuring “thank you” into the microphone.

The rest of the playlist hops genres and their covers are so artistically unique, it’s hard to pick favorites. Leo and Mazzy join together to harmonize “With or Without You” by U2, but the song that gets me the most… that tells me just how special Mazzy’s talent is, is when she sings Aerosmith’s “Dream On,” except she takes Steven Tyler’s gritty rock with high-pitched emotive screams and sings them with the clarity and sweetness of an angel on high. Leo adds an echo to some of the lines but it’s mostly Mazzy.

“Jesus,” North mutters when the last note fades and I’m surging out of my chair, clapping hard and filled with pride. He joins me, as do all my teammates, as do all the patrons in the bar who are as blown away by Mazzy’s performance as I am.

My girl blushes and ducks her head slightly. Leo grins, leaning sideways to whisper something to her and she nods at him with a laugh. He loops an arm around her neck, pulls her over to him, and kisses her forehead.

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