Page 19 of The Comeback

“Ok. Get on with it. Start singing.” He claps his hands together and the sound rings out in the vast space.

“Just like that? Just sing, monkey, sing?”

“Hey, I’m doing this for you. I’m willing to suffer through the nails-on-chalkboard sound of your voice. Don’t let my sacrifice go to waste.” The gleam lighting up his eyes is all tease.

“You are such an ass.”

“That’s why you love me,” he says in a singsong. The words hit me like a blow to the chest. He used to say that all the time, always after he’d done something to upset me like shoving a worm down my shirt or cheating at Monopoly.

I ignore the comment. “Are you going to sing with me?”

“Umm, were you looking for some permanent damage to your eardrums? Is that how you’re planning on getting out of this exhibition?” He does have a terrible ear for music.

“C’mon. Just the first verse, then I’ll do it on my own. It’ll be weird just belting out a tune all by my lonesome.” My coaxing doesn’t seem to work, so I add in something I know he can’t resist. “Or are you chicken?”

He turns around, skating backward in front of me with ease. “I’m not a child anymore. You don’t expect me to rise to that bait, do you?” A wave of indecision crosses his face. “Fine. First verse. What are we singing?”

I tap a finger on my lips. What did we used to listen to? Maroon 5. Sebastian used to love them. His Dad took us to a concert in our senior year of high school before everything fell apart. I had to listen to him singing along in my ear all night while Tris and I rolled our eyes at him.

“One More Night.”

He winces. “What if I don’t know the words?” He spins in a quick circle before resuming his backwards glide. Show off.

I lift an eyebrow at him. Not even going to grace that one with a response. I don’t know if he still listens to them or if he’s into rap or hip hop or whatever hockey players listen to, but there’s no way he doesn’t still remember that song.

“Fine.” He lets out a huge sigh and rubs his hands down the front of his black team logo workout pants.

His perfect white teeth shine under the arena lights when he smiles. He’s acquired some new teeth over the years. I’m sure his dentist has a boat with his name on it. I kind of miss the crooked canine that used to jut out a little on the right side, but that’s one of the hazards of hockey life.

Then he opens his mouth and lets loose, belting out the first few lines.

I slap my hands over my ears. “Oh god, no. What have I unleashed?” I shake my head with a laugh. “Ok, enough. I surrender.”

The tuneless words coming from his mouth morph in my head, reforming into the actual melody, and I let the words escape. At first, they come out in a self-conscious whisper but grow in strength as I sing. I’m pretty distracted by the whole not falling over thing as I keep pumping my legs.

Sebastian’s mouth falls open, and his eyes are full of wonder. I don’t know what he’s staring at. It’s not like he’s never heard me sing before. I let the words flow and adapt the tune to something a little softer, adding my own spin on it.

The arena is brimming with my voice as we keep skating around in circles. He’s right about the concentrating thing. I’m focusing so hard on staying upright I haven’t had time for nerves to take over.

“Beautiful,” he says.

Heat rises to my cheeks when I come out of my music trance to see him staring at me as if he’d like nothing better than to eat me alive. His words register and the blush deepens. “Thanks. That really worked. I got so lost in the music and the rhythm of skating I wouldn’t have noticed if the entire hockey team walked in.” A sliver of concern slices through me and I swing my head back and forth. “They didn’t, did they?”

“No, Abby. It’s just you and me, and I wasn’t talking about your singing, although that was incredible.”

My skates threaten to give out on me again and his hands dart out to steady me at the elbows. Did he just say that I’m beautiful? Why? Why would he say that?

Chapter 14

Sebastian

Shit,she’sgotthatwild animal trapped in a cage look on her face. Maybe I should have kept that thought to myself. Way to go. Scare her off before you even have a chance with her. I couldn’t help it, though. She looks amazing. Her eyes are shining with her passion for music and her cheeks are flushed a rosy shade of pink from the cold air and exertion. Those full lips of hers are begging to be kissed. Don’t go there. This is Abby, not some bunny looking for a good time.

“Hey, look at me.” I reach my hand out to cup her chilled cheek. “You are, but why don’t you give me a few more songs?”

The flight risk look seeps out of her eyes and she nods. My fingers are reluctant to leave her soft skin, but I reel it in.

When she launches into a second song, I push off and skate away from her at speed. I need to put a little distance between us. I’ve never lacked self-control, but being near her is chipping away at it. She’s fucking gorgeous when she’s in her element. That bell-like voice is so sweet and powerful at the same time. It draws me to her.

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