Page 35 of The Last Key
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DEVON
“So,are you going to tell me what happened between you and Kennedy?” Justin asks in a hushed voice as we walk away from Kennedy—who grabbed a free table—to get drinks at the bar.
“What do you mean?” I ask like I haven’t been acting weird as fuck from the moment we left the house. He grabs my arm, stopping me in my tracks, and simply raises his eyebrows at me. “Yeah. Okay.” I nod toward the bar. We order drinks for ourselves and Kennedy, then I look at Justin, who is giddy with excitement. “We almost kissed.”
His eyes widen and a grin breaks out. “No shit?”
I rub the back of my neck. “No shit.”
“What stopped you? And why do you look like you got hit by a train?”
My eyes drift over his shoulder to where Kennedy is bouncing in her seat to the upbeat Taylor Swift song playing.
“Because I’m acting like a fucking moron. Earlier I told her Iwanted to fuck her on the kitchen counter. We’ve been flirting and teasing each other and alluding to sexual things, but then I barreled over the line and she looked terrified. Maybe a little turned on, but mostly horrified. Then I implied I was going to jack off to her in the shower.” I huff and run a hand through my hair.
“You’re a fuckin’ mess. Where does the kissing come in? Oh, did she join you in the shower?”
“What? No. Fuck, you’ve been narrating too many romance novels. When I finished my shower, I went downstairs, and I was replaying what I said to her and panicking. What if I scared her away? That’s the last thing I’d want. I realized how badly I want her to stay. Not just for a few weeks or the summer, but forever. I want her here with me. Then she walked into the room and asked me what I was thinking about—alluding to what I said about fucking her on the counter. I didn’t want her to think that’s all I wanted, so I told her the truth. It was a perfect moment. We were this close”—I hold my thumb and pointer up, pinched close together—“to kissing. Then you yelled from the other room. So, thanks for ruining that.”
He laughs as the bartender sets our drinks down.
“Well, you know what you have to do now, right?”
I stare blankly at him.Tell her how I feel? Kiss the hell out of her? Beg her to stay? Fuck her on the kitchen counter?
Then he nods toward the stage and grins.
Ah, fuck.
Normally karaoke isfun and ridiculous. If I have enough to drink, I might get up and do a goofy rendition of an ’80s song. Otherwise, I sit and enjoy the desecration of some ofmy favorite songs. Never have I come to karaoke and purposely performed well. Until tonight.
Why did I let Justin talk me into this? It’s his fucking accent. It makes everything sound like a good idea.
Now I’m walking onto a crappy stage where all eyes are on me, but I look for the only eyes that matter.
Kennedy’s are wide, but there’s a smile on her face. Of course, she doesn’t know what I’m about to do. My stomach churns as the opening bars ofOne of Them Girlsby Lee Brice play. This is a ridiculous plan, but it’s too late to take it back, so I look at Kennedy, open my mouth, and commit to this.
I picked this damn song because it’s always made me think of Kennedy. For the most part, she doesn’t give a fuck about what other people think. Guys look at her like she’s candy, and somehow, she doesn’t notice. She’s the girl I’d give everything to have, and she doesn’t realize it.
As the chorus begins, I lose myself in the words. Words that tell her exactly what I want.Her.That I’d do anything to have her.
Her gaze on me is intense and hard to read, but she can’t take her eyes off me, and that fuels me. Pulling the mic from the stand, I move around the small stage, the song flowing out of me. Most people don’t know I can sing well. Kennedy is one of the few. When we’d camp in the backyard, she’d always force me to sing to her while we roasted marshmallows. Of course, there wasn’t much forcing needed. I’d do anything for her. If it makes her smile, I’ll do it without a second thought.
People are clapping and singing along with the song, but my eyes are still on Kennedy as she watches me raptly, her face impossible to read. I want to believe I see some excitement in those eyes, but it’s hard to know from here. And singing right in front of her might be a touch dramatic. Instead, I place the mic back in the stand, holding onto it as I sing the final words, still watching her. Emotion clouds her face, and I’m not sure that’s a good sign or a bad one.
The second the song is over, I hop off the stage, but a couple of people step into my path and compliment me.
I politely thank them while trying to get away quickly. When I finally get to where Justin and Kennedy were sitting, they’re standing and seem to be arguing.
“No, it wasn’t!” Kennedy yells, then bolts out of the bar.
“What the hell was that?” I ask Justin.
He scrunches his face and says, “It’s possible this wasn’t as good of an idea as I thought.”
“Where did she go?” I yell. He opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. “Justin!”
