Page 19 of Rebel Without a Claus
She’s trying so hard that it almost makes it worse. They should really check in on Santa up at the North Pole because he can probably hear it, too.
“You know,” Gemma says, leaning in way too close to me. “I could always change my song to our duet tonight. For old time’s sake.”
Eve glances self-consciously at me, her face draining of color when she sees Gemma and me standing so closely together.
She misses the next cue to start and for a moment, it looks like she might cry. Then, with a shake of her head, she levels a glare straight at me right before she clutches the mic closer to her chest like a lifeline and belts out another verse—a note that cracks so bad it could drive right into my chest.
Fuck me running. This is too painful to watch. And not just because she’s not a good singer. But because she’s trying so damn hard and seems miserable up there. It’s a different story when someone loves karaoke even though they’re bad. Eve is doing this to win the contest… and failing miserably.
I shouldn’t care this much.
I shouldn’t and yet, seeing those glistening tears shining in her eyes nearly breaks me.
Gemma wins Caroloke every damn year.
She’s the best singer in this little town and she knows it… and she can’t even be a gracious winner.
Though I can’t explain why this contest is so important to Eve, it clearly is. She needs to win the Holly Ridge Christmas festival for reasons I don’t understand… yet.
And I’ll be damned if she loses because of Gemma.
I down the last of my beer and duck past Gemma, ignoring her whiny protest as I shove through the bodies clogging the floor before I can talk myself out of doing something colossally stupid.
Just as Eve's cracking voice pierces through everyone's eardrums again, I leap onto the stage, taking the three stairs in one big step, my heart pounding like a jackhammer.
“Need some help?” I say.
“I—are you…?”
“Yep,” I say. She looks confused as hell but hopeful too. It’s something that both softens and grates on me all at once aseveryone in the crowd gets quiet, no doubt wondering what kind of train wreck they’re about to witness.
Eve’s eyes widen in shock and disbelief, but she nods quickly, passing me the extra mic just as another crackly noise bounces through the speakers.
Aunt May gasps from the crowd and I hear Jack’s low whistle.
Immediately, people start buzzing. Some are whispering, some just plain gawking, but it doesn’t matter because now I can see that Eve looks different. She’s still strung tighter than Christmas lights on December twenty-fourth but there’s a spark behind it now that wasn’t there before. It pulls something around the edges of my memories.
She’s looking at me with two wide eyes that suddenly don’t seem quite so panicked anymore, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make everything else slip away.
But there’s also a glimmer of hope that makes me suck in a breath and lift the microphone to my mouth just as the second verse begins.
I open my mouth and force out a shaky note, rusty but damn if it isn’t almost on key. The sound fills the room and Eve shoots me the kind of smile I haven’t seen in years. Relief. Pure relief.
"We’ve got this," I whisper, catching Eve’s eye again as her cheeks turn pink with confidence. For a second it feels just like old times but better—more improvised and ridiculous.
I look sideways at Eve, and this? This right here might just be my favorite sight in years: sparkly eyes flashing with joy as she sings at full volume. Her shoulders soften, her eyes are shining, and before I know it, we’re singing the chorus together, me following that high voice of hers like something rickety chasing after a well-oiled train.
I don’t think about the past. I don’t think about old wounds or missed chances. I justsing.
Our voices blend together, her nervousness fading as she follows my lead.
Gemma fumes from the corner of the bar, lips pursed so tight you’d think she’s been sipping lemon juice. But all my attention is on Eve who grins at me with this reckless abandon that makes my heart stutter more than rusty notes ever could.
I hate to admit it, but as the music gets louder, Eve and I both relax into the song… I’m actually kind of having fun. Eve does a little dance and bumps her hip against mine.The crowd warms up to us almost immediately, hollering and cheering, clapping along to the beat now. Even Old Man Duncan’s doing a little jig at his table.
And Eve? She’sshining. Her confidence grows with every note, her energy infectious.
By the time we hit the final chorus, the entire bar is singing along. And I realize—damn it all—Ilovethis. I love singing with her. I love watching her come alive.
