Page 40 of Protect Your Queen

“No.” He turned to look at me. He gave me a wink, and my heart skipped a beat. “It led me here.”

I let out a small snort. “Babysitting a pop princess who sings the same four chords?”

He shrugged, the corners of his lips tilting down. Then he brought up his right hand, and with his thumb and index finger, clunked out a few notes of an old, familiar melody.

It was clear, he had no intention of using his whole hand.

“I like hearing you sing,” he said. “Maybe not the pop stuff, that’s true. But I like your voice.”

The song was slow to register, but it was a good one. Another tune made famous by the great Ella Fitzgerald.

“Sing it for me,” he said, turning his head to look at me, as his left hand kept on with the bass notes. It wasn’t the intro. He was dropping us right into the middle.

He went through the notes once, then twice. I kept my mouth shut, but he kept on staring. By the third time, I obliged because… well, because his eyes looked like they were pleading for something.

“There's a somebody I’m longing to see. I hope that he turns out to be…” I sang softly, so no one else but him could hear. “Someone who’ll watch over me.”

That frowny little face of his didn’t smile, per se. His mouth opened and he breathed deep, his eyes closing for just a moment, as if he was shutting off his vision to enjoy the song more.

“I’m a little lamb who’s lost in the wood. I know I could always be good to one who’ll watch over me.”

He let the notes fade out with my voice. It was a moment of strange synchronicity, unplanned and improvised.

I liked how he let the silence come in slowly and allowed it to linger for a moment.

“There is nothing that fundamentally separates you from all the greats that came before.” His voice sounded so heavy. He cleared it, and I wondered if he had a lump in his throat, thesame way I did. “The only thing that’s keeping you back is the six inches of real estate behind those haunted eyes.”

He brought his right index finger up to my brow, swiping from one arch to the other. I knew he was making a point about the barrier being in my mind. But his touch seared a path on my skin that made me want to lean in to him.

I could hear my pulse again, but this time, I didn’t hate it.

He leaned in, just a little. So did I. I was pulled by the magnetism of his blue-green eyes that stared at me with a heat I had never seen before. I was no stranger to men who leered and lusted over girls and women. I was used to being looked at in that way, and it filled me with disgust every time. But the wayhelooked at me was something completely different.

“Jes!” Jareth’s harsh voice shouted from behind us.

Chris and I jumped, looking over our shoulders.

Jareth’s bedroom light cast him in shadow.

“Go to bed,” Jareth commanded.

“Kuya, nothing happened…”

“Go, Jes!” Jareth’s arm rose, his hand extended, his finger pointed right to my door.

I looked at Chris, mouthing an ‘I’m sorry’. Instead of being mad, Chris smiled, and gave me another one of his winks, before tilting his head to point to my door. “Goodnight, Songbird.”

I wanted to laugh, because I wasn’t sure if he understood exactly how much trouble he was in – how much troublewewere in. But he looked unperturbed as he bit down on his lip, and let his eyes rake down my silk night clothes.

“Get your eyes off of her!” Jareth bellowed.

I flinched, but Chris didn’t. He just sat there smiling, giving me a slight nod as if trying to tell me that it would all be alright. I chose to believe him.

Chapter fourteen

Pretty Boy

Chris

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