Page 58 of Hope & Harmony

Watching the movement of her lips as she sings. Watching the movement of her chest as she breathes.

And what a chest it is. Perfectly round breasts with just a touch of cleavage showing.

When she finishes, every person—everyperson—in the bar rises, claps, screams, and whistles.

A few of them even shout “brava!”

And damn…

I can’t fault them.

I’m next, so I head toward the stage. Blaire passes me without meeting my gaze.

“Nice job,” I say to her. “Have you ever considered singing in English? That way we’ll be able to tell when you mess up the words.”

She turns and glares at me over her creamy shoulder. “Bite me.”

I raise an eyebrow and give her a half smile. “Don’t tempt me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just get onstage, Gunnar. Get onstage and slash your larynx to ribbons. Bastardize music the way onlyyoucan.”

I exhale sharply. “I’m just glad that the guys who wrote my music haven’t been dead for two centuries.”

She scoffs. “Yes, and their names are still well-known now. No one will know your name a hundred years from now.”

I shrug. “Guess we’ll have to see. In the meantime, take a seat, Donna.”

She wrinkles her forehead. “It’s Blaire.”

“I was referring to your last name. First name Prima, of course.”

She rolls her eyes again, but I swear there’s a hint of a smile trying to force its way onto her mouth. “Aren’t you clever?”

I open my mouth, hoping a retort will come to me when I’m saved by Jamie’s booming voice over the mic.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen. Our next act is someone you’ve come to love, and he’s back again at the Haven and ready to rock the place. Please welcome Gunnar Healy!”

I get the applause. Love the applause. It tingles in my ears like a thousand stars bursting.

My guitar strapped to me, I walk onto the stage, under the lights, sweat already emerging on my brow.

I stroke a few chords, and then I rock.

CHAPTER 2

BLAIRE

God, that man makes me want to pull my own hair out. Then pullhisout.

And then grab him, paste our mouths together, and fall against a wall as I let him pound me.

I shake my head to get the fantasy out. Gunnar Healy is not good for me.

I’ve been serious about music since I was seven years old and heard opera for the first time. My grandmother took me to seeThe Marriage of Figaro. Grandpa was sick, so she had an extra ticket. I had no idea what opera was. All I knew was that I got to spend the day with Grandma, which would ultimately end with ice cream, so I was all in.

The seats at the theater matinée were luxurious, and Grandma got me a booster, but she told me I didn’t have to pay attention if I didn’t want to, that it was okay if I took a nap. We’d still get ice cream.

But I was mesmerized from the first note.

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