Page 15 of Practice Makes Perfect

My eyes widen and I nonchalantly nod my head in Carter’s direction, but Jake just shakes his head at me. “Fine. We can stay,” I announce. Reaching over to Carter, I clasp his shoulder. “No one else needs to feel pressured to sing, though.”

Carter gives me a funny look. “Okay, but I’m kind of excited to do it. I brought Jake and Maya once a while back, and it’s been a long time.”

“Not long enough,” Jake mutters. Before I can ask him about it, our conversation is interrupted as our waitress comes back and takes our order. In the meantime, a particularly nasally-voiced individual has started singing Miley Cyrus’s, “Party in the USA.” To their credit, the crowd claps and cheers at the end despite our collective ears having bled for the last three minutes straight.

As I flip through the song catalog, my eyes light up when I find one of my favorite tunes to sing. Scribbling down my choice, I pass it up to the deejay and look over to see Carter writing down his choice as well. “What are you singing?”

Carter holds the paper to his chest. “That’s a secret.” He smiles and winks before he walks the paper up to the deejay himself.

While my mind reels as it tries to process the sexy wink I just got, I dumbly turn to the rest of the table. From the looks on their faces, Maya and Jake are still struggling to pick a song. “What are you two going to sing?”

Maya shrugs and Jake looks pained for a moment before a smug smile takes over his face. “Actually, I think we’ll sit this one out and leave it to the professional.” Maya starts to talk, but he quiets her with a quick kiss on her lips. “No, let her find out the hard way.”

“Find out what?” I ask. Before anyone can elaborate, I’m being called to the front for my song. Doing a little shimmy in my chair, I stand and turn to the front, smacking directly into a hard wall of man. From the mossy, wooden smell flowing over me, I can tell it’s Carter, and I would love nothing more than to bask in the scent as well as the warmth radiating from his body.

My eyes find his and see that he’s smiling sweetly down at me. “Good luck, Elskling.” He spins me to the front and gives me a gentle shove to the stage. I’m glad of his help because my mind is still stuck on whatever he just called me. I wish I knew what the word was so I could look it up later, but I was too caught up in my fantasies to really be paying attention.

Shaking off my Carter-induced haze, I grab the microphone from the deejay and head onto the stage while the opening notes of Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots are Made for Walking,” starts to play. The fact that I am wearing strappy heels and not boots isn’t lost on me, but the red shoes paired so much better with my flowy blue skirt and black shirt that I don’t even care about authenticity at the moment.

As the beat plays, my body starts to move and I sing the opening lines of the song as I saunter back and forth across the stage. Every now and then I’ll stop and do a shimmy, earning a few cat calls from the crowd and I point out into the audience and wiggle my hips. My voice isn’t as great as some other practiced singers, but what I lack in vocal talent I make up for in showmanship. After another minute, the song ends and as the crowd applauds, I pass the mic back, hop down from the stage, and walk victoriously with my head held high back to my table.

Carter claps as I take a seat and slug some water. “Very impressive,” he tells me. His eyes are lit up and he does look genuinely impressed, and I find myself sitting a little taller and preening under the attention. It’s different from when other guys would be impressed with me because I know Carter better now and can tell he’s not as easily awed, and because of who he is, his opinion carries much more weight than any of the other guys I’ve been with. You’re not with Carter. The reminder from my brain is unwelcome and dampens my mood slightly.

When the deejay calls Carter’s name, I once again feel as though I need to give him an out, especially since he’ll have to follow my performance. “You really don’t have to sing if you don’t want to.”

Jake snorts and shakes his head at me with a cheeky expression on his face. My brow furrows at him, but Carter touching my shoulder pulls my attention away from my slightly annoying friend. “I think I’ll be all right, but thanks for your concern.”

Nodding, I watch as he walks up to the stage. After he grabs the mic, he faces the crowd and a few of them cheer before he’s even done anything. “What’s that about?” I ask Maya.

“You’ll see,” she says with a smile. Her attention goes back to her brother as does mine, the opening notes of Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game starting to play.

“Why would he pick such a difficult song?” I ask myself more than the others. The answer comes as Carter starts to sing, his honeyed voice carrying over the crowd as he hits every note perfectly. “Holy shit.” Turning back to look at Maya and Jake, I wince as I see Maya shrug and Jake with an extremely self-satisfied look on his face as he crosses his arms and watches my face grow redder.

Feeling slightly ridiculous for thinking that I was some pro and that Carter wouldn’t be able to hold his own, I turn back and watch as he takes command of the stage. His voice easily moves from low and husky to higher and crisp whenever the song calls for it. Every note resonates within me, and as I watch him sing with such power and confidence, my panties practically soak through and I start to squirm in my seat. It doesn’t help that he’s picked one of the sexiest songs of all time. Each word he sings about falling in love brushes over me like the light whisper of fingertips on skin, causing me to shiver as goosebumps break out all over my body. If he was ever worried about his dates, all he needed to do was forget the small talk and belt out a few notes because I’m ready to jump him right now and the song is only halfway finished.

Once Carter’s performance is over, the crowd erupts into raucous applause. He smiles shyly and takes a small bow before handing the mic back to the deejay and coming to the table. When he sits down, he smiles at the plate of food that appeared in his spot while he was on stage being a rock star, exuding sex all over the stage. “Awesome,” he says as he picks up his cheeseburger. “I really worked up an appetite.”

“Same,” I mutter. The appetite I have is not for the pub fare in front of me but for the man on my right. Trying not to drool on myself as I stare at him, my eyes linger on the mouth that just sang so beautifully. “Where the hell did you learn to sing like that?”

Carter’s shoulder bounces as he chews his food. “I did choir in high school,” he explains.

Maya rolls her eyes and leans in. “He’s being modest,” she says with an indulgent glare aimed at her brother. “He’s always been a good singer, and the choir won the state competition his junior and senior year with him getting a ribbon for best solo performance. He could have been in All State Choir if he wanted to.”

Carter smiles at his sister before turning to me. “It’s not that big a deal.”

Tell that to the panties that just melted off my body. Leaning in so our dinner companions don’t hear, I whisper over to him. “Well, I definitely think we should showcase your skills a little more when we set up your app profile.”

Carter shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to come off as a braggart.”

I snort. “Says the man that just performed like he was born on a stage.” He shrugs and I let it drop for now. “Fine, but you should definitely keep that song in your back pocket so you can serenade someone sometime. That is a sure fire way to get the girl.”

Carter’s eyes bore into mine. It feels like he’s seeing something deep down inside me that I myself haven’t even found yet. He smiles sweetly at me, and my heart squeezes because it almost hurts to look at something so incredibly beautiful. “I’ll remember that.”

We go back to eating and talking a little more about what my next party planning gig could be if I decide to go that route, Jake’s latest client, and Maya wanting to go full time with her crochet business, but my heart isn’t quite in the conversation. It’s stuck on the man next to me and wondering what it is he saw that had him smiling like that.

Chapter Eleven

Carter

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