Page 155 of The Bridges I've Burned

The next act went up, a guy intent on belting out “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Haven’t we all had enough trauma?

“He hasn’t?—”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. He hasn’t texted you either. But has it ever occurred to you that maybe he’s just as scared as you are?”

I scoffed as the bartender came our way. “Scared of what? He’s not the one who has to watch grown-ass women throw panties at his feet.”

Okay, I hadn’t actually seen that, but it didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

The bartender took our drink orders—or mine. Marin stuck with a Coke, avoiding the virgin drinks tonight. She’d gotten a few judgy looks on her honeymoon and decided that was enough of that.

People needed to mind their own damn business.

“I’m just saying,” she went on, very much not minding her own business, “perhaps you’re both being a little stubborn.”

She gave a pointed look at the leather jacket I wore, and smiled.

I let out a huff as the man onstage finally finished.

“You already said that. And I’m not stubborn,” I argued. “He’s the one who left. He’s the one who asked me to go with him and then bailed without a single word.”

“And you’re the one who is too scared to demand an explanation.”

I opened my mouth to rebuke her, but instead, I just whined like a child. “Why are we even here? You’re not even paying attention and?—”

My mouth fell open as he took the stage.

“What the fuck?”

“That’s why we’re here,” Marin said smugly.

The crowd roared, recognizing their local boy immediately. He took a minute, positioning a single stool in the middle of the stage, and then took a seat. He had a guitar strapped across his broad shoulders.

So fucking sexy.

Shut up. We’re mad at him.

“Hey, everyone,” he said, making the crowd go even crazier.

It was like an encore of the charity concert, except we were in karaoke hell and he was playing the role of Asher Knight.

He was so much hotter than Asher Knight.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming and crashing your evening.” Every single phone was out and recording. “But you see, I met this girl at one of these karaoke nights. Not just any girl. The girl.”

My heart fluttered rapidly in my chest as his eyes met mine.

“And I’ve been trying to find a way to tell her exactly how I feel, and since she has a thing for my mouth—shit, sorry, I mean, my voice.”

The crowd erupted in laughter, and I just shook my head as a cocky grin crept across his lips.

“I figured this might be the best way to do it.”

People were starting to figure out who he was looking at, and several phones were now pointed at me as I watched him. I tried not to be nervous, but as he strummed the first note, everything and everyone else seemed to just melt away.

Tears stung the back of my eyes as he sang a slow, haunting version of “Take on Me” by A-Ha. By the last note, I probably looked like a damn raccoon from the layer of mascara that had run down my face, but I didn’t care.

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