Page 41 of Her Filthy Mistake

“Uncle Jace, you should sing.” Zorya jogs up to us with sand kicking up behind her.

One corner of her mouth arches upward. “But I happen to be one of the staff at my father’s record label, tagged with finding new talent, so it would seem silly to pass up a free opportunity.”

“You’re something else.” I rake my hand through my hair as my fingers itch to grab the guitar the musician holds in his hands. The crowd claps as they finish their number, and then, there’s silence.

“Well?” Zoe grins and motions her head toward the small area set up for the performers.

“Fine,” I sigh, but inside, the butterflies flip in excitement. I haven’t sung in front of a crowd in years.

“Yes.” Her eyes dance as she claps and runs over to the man in charge of the entertainment for the evening, begging him to let me use one of their instruments.

As she speaks, more of the crowd on the beach turns to look in our direction as some of them lean together and whisper. Sweat pops on my skin. Am I ready for this?

“I’m proud of you.” Carly pats my forearm. “This trip is as much about you as it is about us.”

My chin shoots up as I study my sister-in-law. Seriously? How much of this is orchestrated? I frown as Zoe jogs up to me, sticking out the acoustic guitar. “It’s yours to play.”

“What?”

“It’s their gift to you.” She points to the band, who’s settled into seats in preparation for listening. This is crazy.

I grasp the warm neck of the guitar, and my entire body relaxes. The weight of it feels like a missing piece of my soul. I sling the brown leather strap over my head and strum the strings. The strings are tight, and the sounds that are produced are in tune. It’s a solid instrument.

Everyone settles into the sand, chairs, or onto the haphazardly arranged wooden logs. Can I do this without using? I swallow as one of the guests sucks down a swirling straw that’s tucked into her mixed drink while another man tips his bottle of beer to his lips.

The old pull isn’t there. I don’t feel any differently than I did an hour ago. No. That’s not entirely true. I feel complete. Stronger. I feel like I’m where I belong. With Zoe. Her green eyes never leave me as she watches my every move like she’s going to swoop in and rescue me if I need it.

My heart skips a beat. I’m falling into the abyss. But it’s one I don’t want to climb out of. I want her in my corner, cheering me on. And as a reward, I want to worship her for letting me be a part of her life.

Lord, I’m a sap. I chuckle to myself and strum the guitar. It’s a good thing I’m a singer/songwriter because there’s nothing better than a lovestruck fool for writing songs, besides a heartbroken mess. Don’t think about that. We’re going to make this work.

The first words pass by my lips, and everyone drops to silence as I sing a song that I wrote in high school about wanting to find the perfect woman and living on top of the world–invincible because of her love. It was one of my favorite songs, but the rest of the band hated it. They thought it was too sappy, too cheesy, and didn’t match our vibe.

In the shadows, a couple moves closer to our group. It’s the woman and her husband that I met the first night on the island.

That song leads to another I wrote after meeting Zoe and wishing I could have something I couldn’t. Several ladies in the crowd clutch their chests and audibly sigh. But Zoe doesn’t move. She listens to every word with her head turned and her eyes watching the sky. I cringe. I’m already auditioning. Shit. I lick my lips during an instrumental section as my heart thunders in my ears.

If she thinks I’m good, can she convince Fletcher to give me a shot? Finding a new band wouldn’t be impossible. It’s not easy to find compatible people, but there are always bands searching for a lead vocalist.

Just sing. Don’t get into your head. Remember that this is your passion.

At the end of the song, I raise one hand. “I’m going to sing something that I wrote that’s never been heard. It’s rough, but I think it could be a hit.”

The words I wrote about Zoe earlier today spill from my lips and her head spins until our eyes are locked together. She bites her bottom lip and shivers as if she senses I wrote it about her. After we were together.

The second I’m done, the crowd jumps up, and Lisa, the obsessed stalker, launches herself into my arms. “That was amazing. You are amazing.” She kisses the edge of my lips as I jerk my head away from her. But that doesn’t stop her as she tosses her arms around me while throwing her tits into my face.

When her lips land on my ear, she whispers, “Room 310. Midnight. My husband wants to watch.”

“I’ll have to pass.” I push her back as cameras flash around us. Jesus. This, I don’t miss. If I get back into the game, security is a must. I’m not going down the groupie rabbit hole again.

The woman winks and stares at me hungrily. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She trails her fingertip down my chest, and barely stopping at my shorts. “I could be your number one fan if you let me. I saw how much you wanted me that day at the beach when you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

Zoe’s eyes harden as she turns on her heel.

Lady, you tripped me to get me to fall into you. Her husband is no help. He watches her like he loves the game as much as she does.

“Thanks.” I nod and disengage from her. “I appreciate your support, but I’m not looking for anything extra. I wasn’t that day, and I’m not tonight.”

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