Page 23 of Falling for You
CeCe knew before she had to ask who the Ambers were. “I’m going to go out on a limb,” she started, trying her best to stifle a laughing fit, “that those lovely ladies are the Ambers.”
Evan ran a hand down his face, his skin now an unnatural hue. “Please don’t hold that against me. I really am here to sing,” he protested, and CeCe believed him. Evan didn’t play games, and she trusted him. He really was just a guy who liked music and a night on the town. She could hardly fault him for that.
Ten minutes later, the Ambers finished their rendition of a popular Britney Spears song. CeCe hadn’t seen that much suggestive gyrating since she’d watched TRL back in middle school. These girls definitely had their sights set on Evan, and thankfully he didn’t seem to care. Throughout their performance, his arm stayed firmly around CeCe. During a particularly flat portion of the song, he’d whispered in her ear. “I swear, they’re not all this bad.” The feeling of his breath on her neck made CeCe shudder, and not in an unpleasant way. She inched closer and rested her head on his shoulder.
To an outside observer, they clearly were on a date. Their sides were plastered together, and she hadn’t even reached out to take her drink off the table. When a woman in her fifties took the stage, she said she was going to sing a favorite from Ella Fitzgerald. CeCe inwardly rolled her eyes, fearing the woman would butcher a classic. But much to CeCe’s—and everyone’s—delight, the woman sang her soul out. Her velvety voice was better suited for a recording studio instead of a smoky pub.
“She’s incredible,” CeCe said when the song finished.
Evan reluctantly pulled his arm free to clap. “She’s my biggest competition.”
Before CeCe could ask what Evan was going to sing, the emcee took the mic and announced he was next. Evan pulled himself free and smoothed down the front of his shirt. “Showtime,” he said with a wink. Without looking back, he strode to the stage with his shoulders back and his head held high.
There was a confidence to Evan she’d somehow overlooked before the last few days, a way he carried himself that made him stand out in a crowd. She remembered that hopefulness, that sense that the world was at her feet. While incredibly grateful for her life in Buckeye Falls, sometimes, during her darker moments when she felt like Eric had taken her spark, she missed her younger self. She missed that sense of entitled confidence.
Even now, her throat practically burned with the need to tell Evan about Eric, whether from guilt or the smoke machine she wasn't sure. But it was loud, her stomach churning from her drink, and he’d just stepped up to perform—for her. Now wasn't the time.
This was cowardly, to shut herself off instead of coming clean. Yet since letting Evan in, soaking in his earnest expression, she felt this connection. She was not ready. Eric, and the way he'd made her feel, still felt like a fresh wound ... a wound that needed healing. Healing that needed to happen in private, not in a crowded pub with someone who looked at her like she hung the moon. Selfishly, CeCe wanted to preserve that expression on Evan's handsome face, wanted him to look at her like she had all the assurance she craved. Opening up to Evan, or most people for that matter, was monumental to her because she kept herself protected from scrutiny. She wasn't ready yet to unburden herself, to show Evan that she was an old fool who'd fallen for someone's lies, whose humiliation had nearly cost her the one thing she was always proud of, the one thing she would never sacrifice again—her career.
So instead of having a pity party for her past, CeCe sat back in her seat and studied the scene before her. Evan handled the microphone like a seasoned professional, not a tremble in his hand. Before tonight, she thought she had Evan all figured out. Her easy-going friend was hardly one-dimensional, but much like an onion, Evan had more layers than she expected. Unsure what he was about to sing, or how it would make her feel, she pushed aside her rambling thoughts and stayed in the moment. Little did she know, Evan was about to knock her world off its axis. She was helpless to stop him.
*
Evan took the mic fromthe emcee and looked out into the audience. Fortunately the smoke machine had died halfway through someone’s rendition ofStairway to Heaven, so he could find CeCe in the crowd. Never one to shy away from the spotlight, literally, he hadn’t thought much about having CeCe here with him for karaoke night. He wasn’t nervous per se, but he wanted to make a good impression. He wanted to show her that there was more to him than pillow forts and omelets.
Taking a deep breath, Evan brought the microphone to his mouth and hoped for the best. “Tonight’s song is dedicated to the lovely woman over there.” CeCe dipped her head, but she didn’t frown. That was all the encouragement he needed before the music started. CeCe not scowling was as good as her beaming from ear to ear.
For months, he’d told himself he was going to keep playing it cool. He’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to spook CeCe by moving too fast, by asking for too much too soon. Yet after last night’s kiss, he’d made a decision. He was going to show his hand. If she didn’t like it, then at least he’d know where they stood.
The opening bars of John Legend’sAll of Mestarted, and he watched CeCe rest a hand over her heart. Granted, he was planning on singing this ballad tonight regardless of who was here, but having her in his space, seemingly enjoying herself, bolstered his resolve.
As the song wound down, Evan made sure to keep his gaze locked on CeCe. She hadn’t blinked throughout his performance, and he only hoped that meant she was enjoying herself, meant that she liked what she heard.
“Well, folks,” the emcee said, pulling the mic from Evan’s sweaty hand, “I’d say that was certainly something special.”
Evan didn’t wait for the applause to end as he took the steps down two at a time.
Just when he’d reached his table, he felt a tap on the shoulder. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, as Amber’s strong perfume nearly had him gagging. Evan had never noticed before CeCe, but he really didn’t like high-maintenance girls. Why spend hundreds of dollars on expensive perfume when you could smell like cinnamon rolls and birthday cakes for free?
“That was like”—Amber let out a long, breathy sigh—“amazing, Evan.” She pulled her hand back to wind a lock of red hair around her finger, her lips in a suggestive pout. If this would have been any other time, maybe he’d be interested. But he’d gotten a taste of CeCe, literally, and he’d be damned if he messed that up.
Side-stepping Amber, Evan slid into the booth and placed his hand on CeCe’s leg. He squeezed it once before looking back up at the interloper. “Thanks. It’s always fun to get up there.” He turned his attention to CeCe, who looked like she’d just swallowed her own tongue. He lowered his voice and asked, “Everything okay?” She bobbed her head and reached for her whiskey, which she shot back in one gulp.
Unfortunately, Amber wasn’t taking the hints. “My friends and I are about to do another song. You want to join us?” She popped her hip to the side and positioned herself so about a hundred yards of cleavage were on display.
“No, thanks,” Evan said, attempting to keep his tone friendly yet firm. “Spending the night with my girl.”
For a moment, no one moved. Amber’s eyes darted back and forth between CeCe and him before she finally took the hint. “Whatever. Whenever you want to have fun, you know where to find me.” She twirled on her stiletto and stalked back to her friends. Evan could only hope that was the end of the Ambers’ reign of terror.
“That was something,” CeCe huffed when they were finally alone.
“What did you think?” he asked, assuming she was talking about his song choice.
“I think that my breasts have never been that perky,” CeCe deadpanned, waving the waiter down for another cocktail.
Evan shook his head, trying to keep up. “What?”
CeCe picked up the straw from her water glass. Without looking up at Evan, she began twisting it in her hands until it resembled a mangled limb. “I’m just saying that if you want to go over with theAmbers”—her voice dripped with distain—“I won’t cramp your style.”
