Page 27 of Best Mistake Ever
I’m flattered, of course, but also incredibly nervous about this request. It feels way too intimate a thing to do with him. But I can’t say no, not when he’s looking at me with such hopeful expectation.
Heat coils in my pelvis again as I stare into his eyes.
‘W-which song are you thinking about performing?’ I stutter, suddenly acutely aware of every nerve in my body standing to attention in the face of his intense charisma.
‘How about “Why Try to Change Me Now”? Do you know it? Fiona Apple did an amazing cover and your singing yesterday reminded me of her, so I think it’d suit your voice perfectly.’
‘I love that song. Yes, okay, I guess so.’ My nerves are humming hard now, but not because I’m feeling shy about standing up and singing. I’ve seen how friendly and encouraging this crowd is, so I have no qualms there.
It’s doing it with Jonah that’s the major problem. It feels like we’d be crossing a line, somehow. Which is ridiculous of course and I’m probably reading way more into his invitation to join him than I should.
It’s great that he wants to get involved with the community spirit of it though. That’s what these festivals are all about, after all.
And honestly, I’m once again warmed by his insinuation that he, a former professional musician, thinks I’m good enough of a singer to be happy to play music with me.
So after squeezing through the crowd to the person organising the event and asking if we could be added to the list – and getting an enthusiasticyes– I wind my way back and wait with Jonah for our turn, leaning against the wall next to him, barely aware of the acts being performed on the makeshift stage in front of us as I try hard to ignore his distracting presence next to me.
But it’s impossible. Jonah Jacobson is not a man you can ignore, especially when he smells as good as he does.
I’m aware of people in the crowd turning to glance over in our direction too and I could swear that the atmosphere in the room has changed. It’s now one of excited expectation.
My stomach swoops at the fear that I’ll somehow let him down. I don’t want his first foray back into performing to be wrecked by my nerves.
I mentally pull myself together. I’ll just have to do the best I can. Hopefully, everyone will be too busy watching him to notice my performance anyway.
Finally, it’s our turn.
We make our way over to the stage, nodding in appreciation of the loud applause we’re given when we’re announced as the next act. Jonah sits on a chair on the left, while I take up a position front and centre.
Luckily, I have a pretty good memory for song lyrics and the one he’s suggested is one I’ve listened to a lot. Even so, I’ve got the words up on my mobile screen as a prompt, just in case. I clutch it in my sweaty hand as I step up to the mic and wait for Jonah to start playing.
As the beautiful sound of the first chords wash over me, all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in appreciation.
Trying not to catch anyone in audience’s eye, I start to sing and the whole room stills, everyone in it seeming to be listening intently to our performance. About half way in, I finally start to relax and enjoy myself, closing my eyes and losing myself in the joy of singing. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed performing. It was only ever a hobby when I did it at school, but I always loved the adrenaline rush I got from it.
I’ve not felt that in such a long time.
When did my life become so sedate?
Being here, in the hotel and at this festival, is really bringing it home to me how small and narrow-focused my world has become after leaving university.
I push the errant thought to the back of my mind and finish the song, the melodic sound of Jonah’s guitar playing us out to silence. He really is a talented musician, his playing so confident and full of feeling. It’s an absolute travesty that he gave up his career because of not feeling like he’ll ever match up to his dad’s talent.
It’s not quiet for long after we finish the song. The roar of appreciation that builds, a few seconds after his last note fades away, is loud and enthusiastic. I turn to look at Jonah, but he’s frowning down at the floor, seemingly deep in contemplation.
After taking an awkward bow, I step off the stage, intensely aware of him following me as I make my way through the jubilant crowd, who Jonah acknowledges with a raised, appreciative hand, and out into the relative cool of the hallway.
My mouth is dry from singing, so I make straight for the kitchen and head into the deserted butler’s pantry to pour myself a glass of water from the large Belfast sink.
Jonah has followed me in and does the same, leaning back against the counter to drink it. After draining my own glass and putting it carefully down in the sink, my hands trembling a little,I finally turn to look at him, wondering what sort of expression I’m going to see on his face.
He looks back at me steadily, his gaze intent on mine. That weird connection is there again, pulsing in the air between us.
My heart thumps hard against my chest.
‘Thanks for doing that with me. I think we were a hit,’ he says, breaking the tension by turning to put his own glass next to mine. ‘It was fun performing with you,’ he says, not looking at me now.
Heat rushes to my cheeks at his compliment. ‘Good. For me too. I was pretty nervous in case I made you look bad.’
