Page 79 of The Bridges I've Burned

Hendrix came in a moment later with the bass line, and it was perfection.

Until Zander did something so totally unexpected that I had to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor.

He started singing.

Because of course, he could sing.

The man sounded like liquid sex, and even though his attention was focused on the song, I couldn’t help but feel like every word was meant for me.

A voice like that should come with a warning label.

By the time he uttered the last lyric, I was completely spellbound.

“Okay, what else?” Hendrix’s exuberance cut through the haze, and it was then I realized they’d finished.

I double-blinked and tried to focus. “‘No Rain,’” I said almost immediately, needing something a little lighter.

“Blind Melon?” Hendrix chuckled.

“That album cover is legendary. Tell me you didn’t want to dress up like a bee for Halloween.”

“My sisters definitely did,” Hendrix confirmed.

“See!” I rest my case.

“I am not singing that one.” Zander groaned, but his face was full of amusement.

Hendrix made a dramatic hand gesture and slicked back his long hair. “Prepared to be amazed, darling.”

Zander set the beat and then executed the iconic intro flawlessly. I was instantly transported back to my brother’s childhood bedroom. I swallowed back a lump in my throat.

When it was time for the lyrics, I learned one thing very quickly.

While Hendrix had a sexy speaking voice, the guy definitely could not sing. He could play the shit out of the bass, but his vocals were absolute crap, and he knew it. In fact, he might have been a little proud of it.

He got to the chorus, and his voice cracked at the high note. I could see Zander trying to keep it together, but I couldn’t. My head fell back as laughter exploded from my lips, and Zander joined me.

“Okay, assholes. You sing along if you think you can do any better,” Hendrix said over us.

He got around to the chorus again, and as Zander’s eyes met mine, I let out a huff of resignation, and we both belted out the lyrics to the ’90s classic.

Despite Zander’s complaints about the song, he sounded surprisingly good.

Me, on the other hand?

“Dear God.” Hendrix feigned disgust. “Is there a cat being tortured nearby?”

I threw a pillow at his face. “Fuck off. You’re not any better.”

“What?” The song came to an end. “My mom told me I have the voice of an angel.”

It was the most fun I’d had in forever. By the time the pizza had arrived, they’d played a few more songs, I’d fallen more in love with Zander’s voice, and I’d laughed so hard that I was in danger of cracking a rib.

“You seem to know a lot of music,” Hendrix said as we gathered plates and napkins for our meal.

“I know a little.” I shrugged.

“She knows more than a little.” Zander started lining up the pizza boxes on the counter and opened them.

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