Page 64 of Hope & Harmony

I come in a half-beat behind, but I make up the difference by singing the first line a bit faster than normal.

“‘In the moonlight we’ll dance, underneath a velvet sky…’”

I can’t remember the last time I sang in this style. I’m breaking every rule that Corbett Morgan spent the last six years pounding into my skull. No rounded vowels, no big space in the back of my mouth, no…

No anything except this love song to Gunnar Healy.

“‘When I’m in your arms, lover, I feel like I could fly!’”

On the word “fly,” I bring my chest voice into a high belt that resonates with power and passion.

I take a look into the audience. They’re eating this up.

I forgot what it’s like to sing in English. There are operas in English, of course. My go-to aria is called “Must the Winter Come So Soon.” But I mostly find myself singing in Italian and French. Beautiful languages, to be sure, but there’s something about singing in your audience’s tongue that bridges you together in a way that foreign languages can’t.

Heat swirls between Gunnar and me as we answer each other in song.

We alternate two more verses, and then we reach the chorus, where we sing at first in unison, then crescendo into a harmony that can only be described as ecstasy.

“‘With you, my lover, all time stands still. With every touch, my soul you fill. In our mellow vibe, we find our bliss, lost in a lifelong mellow kiss.’”

As I sing the lyrics, I can’t help but wonder what a kiss with Gunnar Healy would be like.

I have a feeling it would be anythingbutmellow.

And then, just as quickly as it started, the song is over… I drop my hand holding the microphone to my side and tilt my head back.

When the applause is so thunderous—more than I’ve ever heard—I lift my head, meet Gunnar’s gaze, and slowly…

Ever so slowly…

I move toward him as he moves toward me.

Until only an inch separates us, and his lips come down on mine.

CHAPTER 5

GUNNAR

Blaire’s lips are soft beneath my own, and I slide my tongue over them, coaxing her open.

When she parts those beautiful full lips, I glide my tongue between them, taking what I’ve dreamed of.

She tastes of peppermint, of beauty. Of perfection. Of the melody and harmony between us. If our voices together had a flavor, this would be it.

The song…

It’s a song I’ve heard a thousand times—a song I like a lot.

But singing it with Blaire gave it so much more meaning.

Not the words even. Not the notes. Not the beautiful melody, and not the vibrant harmony when our voices came together.

It was something different. Something amazing that I’ve never experienced. We opened up to each other, felt each other. For an instant, webecameeach other.

My thoughts are interrupted, though, when Blaire steps back, breaking the kiss.

The audience is still going crazy with applause, whistles, shouts.

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