Page 13 of Hound Dog
“Do I even have a choice?”
His grin widened. “Sure… I could go up in your place. But it would mean more to the list if you did it.”
He meant:It would mean more to my mom.
With a sharp breath, I stood, my chair scraping against the sticky hardwood floors. Taking my Coke with me, I weaved through the tables, making my way to the stage. Then, I climbed the three small steps, taking my place at the microphone.
I didn’t know why I was so damn nervous. I was a singer. Used to being on stage. I did all kinds of school musicals. And what Finn didn’t know was that I was starting college in the fall at a music conservatory. This was in my wheelhouse.
But I’d never before sang in memory of, or as an homage to my mother.
My dead mother.
A lump caught in my throat as the intro to my mom’s favorite song,I Will Always Love You,started.
Why, oh why did my mother have to have a penchant for heartbreaking power ballads? Why couldn’t her favorite song have beenLove is a Battlefieldor some other sort of party tune.
I closed my eyes and started singing, knowing every lyric by heart. Mom and I used to belt this tune out on every road trip, every time we cleaned the house, whenever it came on from her shuffled playlist.
It wasn’t only her favorite song.
It was our anthem.
The melody crept into my body—my soul—and I didn’t dare open my eyes. Even with them pressed tightly closed, a couple tears escaped the corners of my eyes, streaking my cheeks.
I knew if I opened my eyes and saw anyone’s pitying or curious stares, I’d be done for.
I definitely couldn’t look at Finn right now.
The song finished and I ducked my chin to swipe my face clean of the tears. A calm washed over me as the song ended. A sweet peace that I hadn’t felt in the weeks since my mom’s passing. Like the gentle lap of a warm wave touching my toes, a small piece of me healed with that song. With fulfilling something that my mom never got to do herself.
Despite the tears, I smiled. A real smile.
I barely registered the applause around me, and instead, I looked up to find Finn staring at me. I could see the unevenness of his breath in the erratic rise and fall of his chest.
Feeling exhilarated, I ran back to our table through the crowd of people clapping. Finn was already on his feet and caught me around the waist in a tight hug.
“Holy shit! You didn’t say you could sing like that!” His mouth brushed my ear as he spoke and he lifted me off the floor, spinning me around like I was weightless. A feather in the breeze.
My heart turned over at his compliment.
When he lowered me to the floor, his eyes raked boldly over me. “Well,” he said. “Go ahead. Mark it off your mom’s list.”
I pulled the list from my purse, careful not to tear or damage it. “Crap… I-I don’t have a pen.”
“Wait.” Finn reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pink pen with a cupcake on top. “Here. Use this.”
I arched my brow at him. “Didn’t peg you as a pink cupcake pen kind of guy.”
“It’s swag for my mom’s cafe, okay? Give me a break.” He rolled his eyes but grinned to soften the statement.
I uncapped the pen and checked beside Mom’s feminine cursive. “There,” I said. “Done.”
Except I wasn’t done.
I could feel it.
He brushed his knuckle over my cheekbone, concern tilting his full lips. “What’s wrong?”
