Page 28 of Echoes of a Muted Song

“I know,” I replied, snuggling against him. “Butthey can keep me from sharing it, and that’s as much a part of the joy as being able to sing.”

Chapter 16

(Draven)

“When are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Johnny asked, his fingers laced with mine as we walked down the street flanked by Sully and Christine.

Christine had been named as one of Johnny’s two guards, while the pair that would be guarding me were currently wrapping up the assignments they were on. Since they were unavailable, Sully was guarding me himself tonight. Both guards had already been appraised of the itinerary for the evening, so they had a chance to scope the place out and work with the club’s management to figure out the best place to seat us. It took a load off my shoulders, to no longer have to worry about those things when planning an evening out. I got to focus on Johnny, who was the only one who didn’t know what the evening’s plans were.

I said nothing in response to his question,just enjoyed the feel of his hand in mine and his exuberant impatience as we approached the middle of the block and the brightly lit awning that readHere There Be Jokes.

Johnny’s gasp was followed by a soft squeal before he turned and crushed the breath from my lungs with a bone crushing hug.

“C-can’t,” I choked out, wheezing as he stole what little oxygen I had left when he kissed me.

When he turned and pulled out his phone to take a picture of the comedy club, I gasped and sucked in a lungful of air I nearly choked on. If that’s how he responded to surprises then I might need to invest in a suit of armor to survive all the ones I had in store for him. Small but mighty, damn. I rubbed my chest and chuckled as I watched him stretch his arm out as far as he could while angling the phone first one way, then the other, until I took pity on him and plucked the phone from his fingers.

“Thanks,” he replied, before grinning and waving for the camera while I took a few pictures of him.

We took a selfie together, too, his arm around my waist, mine over his shoulder, then Sully took one of us in front of the club before we went in with Christine in the lead and him bringing up the rear. With quiet efficiency, she spoke with the host, who nodded and led us to a corner booth, softly lit, but mostly tucked away in shadows. Horseshoe shaped, with black plush leatherbench seats, it offered an excellent vantage point to see the stage, while allowing Christine and Sully to sit on either side of us, keeping me and Johnny buffered between them in the middle of the seat.

Johnny’s eyes were wide as he tried to take in everything, his mouth half-hanging open, so much so that I pressed a finger beneath his chin to gently close it while murmuring in his ear. “I seriously doubt flies taste good, especially this time of year.”

It took him a moment to get it, his body twitching as he cocked his head and scowled before his face split into grin as he began to giggle.

“I’m more interested in tasting a Tequila Sunrise.”

“And you can keep that all to yourself,” I murmured as I tangled my fingers in his hair and tugged him into a kiss.

I was never going to get tired of hearing him moan when I pulled his hair or feeling him melt against me when I cupped the back of his neck and gave a gentle squeeze. He loved when I ran my fingers along the muscles on the sides of his neck, digging in enough any tension there soon eased. Tonight, it was good not to feel stiffness beneath my fingers.

“Why?” he asked as we stared into one another’s eyes like a pair of lovestruck teenagers. “Are you afraid it’ll make your clothes fall off?”

“I wish,” I replied as I pulled my device from my pocket and slid it on the table. It would be easier to communicate through it, especially once the first comedian took to the stage. “It makes me a mean bastard, so I avoid it.”

The way he went from flirty-teasing to serious and nodding made me feel like shit for wrecking the mood. Until he took my hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

“Good to know.”

When I opened my mouth to apologize for bringing down the mood before the show had even started, he pressed a finger to my lips.

“Seriously,” he said. “I don’t want to grab you something from a bar thinking you’ll like it only to find out too late that it was the wrong thing to give you. So, thank you for giving such an honest warning and not trying to sugar coat what it does to you.”

I kissed his finger and nodded, appreciating not only the understanding but the encouragement to talk about the unsavory parts of myself that I usually tried to keep hidden. He was right, it was good that he knew I shouldn’t drink tequila, especially when my band brothers had found out the hard way, after a night of mixing and pounding Sangritas. I’d thought we were drinking Bloody Marys. Later, I learned that I had to be careful with those too and be certain that mine were made with vodka rather than tequila, which was apparently an optionfor a Bloody Mary, too. Who knew? None of us had back then. We’d just fucked around with the drinks we’d learned about from television shows and movies, wanting to be as cool and sophisticated as Bond while we nearly choked to death on martinis, shaken, not stirred, with an olive on a toothpick for garnish and the four of us gagging as we choked them down.

So much for cool.

Johnny booped me on the nose, giggling when I scrunched my face a few times in response. I had no clue who the comedians were tonight or even if there was a theme in place, but when I looked around the room, I came to the realization that we were a bit underdressed. Some of the guys had seriously dressed sharp to come out tonight, mostly in dark or muted colors, though a few had opted for brighter purples and reds than the other men wore. The woman, however, filled the room with color. From slinky dresses to business casual skirts and matching, flowy blazers, they brought the space to life with their vibrancy.

So not our usual crowd, but I was good trying something new, even if I did find myself wishing I’d chosen something a little more upscale than a black and white button-down shirt with two dragons facing off across my chest. I’d rolled the sleeves up, too, showing off my arms, proud of the definition I’d maintained even after leaving my football playing days behind me.

Johnny, of course, looked stunning with his legs encased in black leather. A loose, short-sleeved crimson top that felt like satin showed off the tattoos on his forearms, while the one across his throat was mostly obscured by the chain he wore, padlocked with a silver heart he’d given me the key for. I didn’t know how long he’d had it, though I’d seen him wear it onstage several times. The fact that he’d handed me the key, like when we were younger and it was all the rage for couples to get key and heart necklace sets as a symbol that they were together.He who holds the key can unlock my heart,were the words inscribed on the hearts if I remembered correctly. If not spot on, I was at least close. I still had one in a keepsake box somewhere, given to me by Sapphire, my first serious girlfriend.

As the club MC stepped onto the stage to announce the first act, Johnny rummaged in the small leather backpack he always caried, retrieving the small sketchpad and drawing pens he was never without.

“Hey, y’all, thank you for coming out tonight, my name is Ramsey Burns and I’ve got a Master’s degree in Jokeology, so you’re in for a real treat tonight.”

“From what school?” someone in the crowd heckled.

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