Page 35 of It Started with a Kiss
‘I couldn’t get back to you. People wouldn’t let me by. Bloody women shoving phone numbers in my hand and guys I’ve never met before slapping me on the back. Bloody hell.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m onlyme. And this is only a karaoke club, not the bloody O2 Arena.’
‘Well, yes. It was a little self-indulgent, to be honest,’ I teased. ‘I mean... anyone would think youwereBowie strutting around up there.’
He pouted sulkily. ‘Hey, I take offence at that.’
I rolled my eyes and slapped his arm playfully. ‘I’m kidding around, you jerk. You were amazing. There’s no wonder people have that reaction to you. You look so... I don’t know...rightup there. All rock God-ish.’
His face scrunched. ‘I... I don’tmeanto look like that. I just... it’s like something takes over me.’
‘Yeah. You’re a regular Jekyll and Hyde, that’s for sure.’
He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Funnily enough, you’re not the first to say that.’
‘Come on. It’s not an insult. Jeez, lighten up, Fin.’
‘No, I mean it. I don’t go up there to be all showy. I get some kind of rush. Like a release. But it’s not an ego thing.’
‘Every performer has an ego. Even if it’s analter-ego.’ I snorted and regretted it immediately. A crease appeared between his brows and his shoulders sagged a little. I wished at that moment that my mouth had a rewind button.
He clenched his jaw. ‘I’ll show you I can be serious. Just you wait.’ Before I could try and assure him I was actually complementing him, he stormed off once again, and I was worried he had just dumped me.
I was having a little trouble keeping up with the guy. He had disappeared more times than David Copperfield—the magician that is—and I was sitting there once again, waiting for his return. When he had left methistime, he had seemed to be on a mission to prove a point. What he failed to realise was that he hadnothingto prove to me. Nothing at all.
I was already gone.
Sunk.
Hook line and sinker.
Done for. Get the picture?
On the stage, some pretty, black-haired girl was rocking out to a Paramore song and making a great job of it, but I couldn’t relax. Where the hell had Fin gone? The girl received a loud applause but it came nowhere close to the reaction Fin had received. Music began to play once again; this time a mellow piano rang out around the room, and I guessed I would be watching another singer by myself.
It was getting ridiculous. I didn’t even bother to look up at the stage. That is until a familiar voice began to sing about someone being watched from afar. Slowly I turned my head. The lights on the stage weren’t as dazzling this time, and I gasped as my gaze locked with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed man I was falling for. I didn’t recognise the song but he sang it with such intensity that tears stung my eyes.
This was Fin beingFin. This wasn’t the strutting, pseudo rock god I’d observed on several previous occasions. This was the shy, vulnerable man I had met in my coffee shop, telling me he felt the same about me. Yes, it was happening fast, but I was helpless to stop myself, and judging by his song choice, he felt the same.
Wow.
He stood in the centre of the stage, holding onto the mic where it sat in the stand. The rest of the club ceased to exist. It was just Fin and me. Every so often, he closed his eyes, but then opened them again and locked his gaze on mine. My heart hammered in my chest and the intensity of what I felt for him in those moments terrified me, but what could I do? He had already stolen my heart.
It was a done deal.
I was transfixed as I absorbed the lyrics and the message he was sending me. There was no doubt in my mind that he intended me to hear them ashiswords. As the song ended, there was a silent pause and my heart leapt into my mouth. Remembering I was in a crowded club, I glanced around. Shit. Had the audience hated it? Then, one by one, people began banging their hands together. Soon whistles and cheers erupted around the room too, and I joined in the ovation. I didn’t care that tears were now leaving damp trails down my face.
Fin humbly nodded and thanked the audience before once again making his way to where I stood. My clapping slowed but the rest of the room continued to show their appreciation. He stepped slowly towards me with something akin to fear in his eyes.
Reaching out, he touched my cheek. ‘Well, hopefully that was less of an ego display and you saw some of the real me up there.’
Without uttering a single word, I threw my arms round his neck and crushed my lips to his. The crowd’s cheers gained fervour once again, and more whistles pierced the applause. His arms slipped round my waist and he pulled me into his body as he returned my passionate kiss.
I pulled away and gazed into his eyes that were now somehow darker. ‘What was it? That song? It was eerily beautiful.’
He smiled. ‘It was a song by a band called Aqualung. A little obscure but it seemed to fit. And it’s called “Strange and Beautiful.”’
I scrunched my brow. ‘You think I’m strange?’
He laughed lightly. ‘Not in the way you think. But the beautiful part goes without saying.’
