Page 19 of Fight For Her
Flashing a grin and dropping a twenty on the bar, I made my way back to Quake’s booth in time for a nervous-looking Coby to begin.A drumbeat pulsed in the speakers, followed by a familiar guitar riff. Coby gripped the mic stand and his tanned hands flexed so hard that the corded muscles of his forearm bulged. His chest rose and fell under his T-shirt.
He pointed his index finger at me when he sang “I want you to want me.”
My face flushed and I tried to look away but I couldn’t. I was fixated on his damn face, his gyrating hips, and those stupid sexy forearm muscles. What universal being decided it was okay to let this man’s hair skim his face in the perfect hot guy way?
He belted out the chorus, gaze fixed on me. Why couldn’t he have sang like shit? That same universal being who gave him perfect hair also blessed him with a gorgeous voice. He sounded melodic and angsty. The whole room was captivated by him.
Game on, asshole.
I barely let him climb off the stage after he bowed with a huge shit-eating grin. He grazed my low back as he passed me but I refused to let his touch affect me. A sound somewhere between a growl and a hiss came from somewhere inside me, creepy enough to make me dead stop. I ignored it and precariously scaled the platform, wobblier than I’d been all night and took the mic.Quake was saying something, but his voice was drowned out by the beat of my heart hammering in my chest.
Deep breath, Queen, you got this.
I saw Mia clapping and bouncing in her seat. She gave me a new sense of resolve. I blew a kiss to Quake, then nodded that I was ready before taking notice of where Coby went.The music rolled through my loose limbs as I shimmied and shook. My eyes found Coby’s hungry gaze, and I opened my mouth to croon the intro to “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon.
He laughed, but shook his head and clapped. That wasn’t the response I wanted, but I went on singing in my best voice. Or at least the best voice I could muster that many drinks in.
I was finding my stride. I’d closed my eyes as I got to the good part where Carly would have been repeating “don’t you,” when the mic was taken from my hands.
What the hell?
I opened my eyes to see Coby’s huge frame next to me. He gestured to Quake and “You’re so Vain” was cut off as quickly as it started.I didn’t have time to leave the stage before Coby started his next song.
That smug bastard.
This freaking man worked the stage like he was damn Mick Jagger singing “One Way Or Another” by Blondie. Every ounce of the nervousness I saw earlier evaporated as soon as he opened his mouth.
We had drawn a bigger crowd, and there were phones out now, recording him. When the guitar solo came, he shook his ass, and I swear every woman in the crowd, even Jill and Mia, howled and whistled.
No, no, no. I needed this win.
Two could play this game.
Taking a play straight out of Coby’s book, I came up in front of him, ground my ass against his front, then dropped it low. He stuttered and was rendered speechless. Just what I wanted. I turned around and yanked the mic away as I pushed him aside with my free hand.
“Damn, that was cold,” Quake said over his mic.
Quake was invested. I sauntered to the side of the stage and whispered my next song title into his ear, making sure to linger against his cheek. I wished I hadn’t because he smelled like he’d rolled around in a Goodwill donation bin. I tottered back to the center of the platform as he started my next song.
“Hot N Cold” by Katy Perry blasted out, and I didn’t bother facing the crowd. I sang the lines right to Coby, not breaking eye contact even when every cell of my body told me to look away.My legs wobbled with every passing line as the mix of emotions, alcohol, and adrenaline bombarded me at once.Strong hands were around my waist before I could falter. Coby held me up, and I took that moment to lean my head on his chest to get my bearings back.
He smelled amazing. How did he smell this good after sweating on stage?
His hands cradled my back and rubbed circles against my lace shirt.
Wait, no. I wasn’t doing this.
I shot up, still wobbly, but feeling better. “I can finish. I’m fine.”
In that instant his usual mask of smugness lifted and concern shone through. “You should sit and have some water.”
“I don’t take orders from you.” I pushed away and climbed down from the stage. He was right. I needed water, but I wasn’t getting some because he told me to. I could think for myself.
Mia caught up with me to lead me into a chair and force an icy glass into my hands. “Oh my God, Ken, you were amazing! Are you okay? You look pale.”
I gulped like I had just ran a marathon. “M’ fine.”
Coby was still on stage, shifting from one foot to the other. It was like the spell we were under had broken, and as he dragged his hand through his hair, I could read the anxiousness on his features.
