Page 23 of Elanie & the Empath
“I’m not a complete ass, you know,” I said, affronted. “I’m actually a pretty nice guy.”
“Maybe.” She squinted at me. “For a Portisan.”
Just before Chan reached us, I muttered, “A Portisan who can’t draw a vagina to save his life.”
She snorted. And when I looked at her, there was a definite smile on her face.Success!
“We’re going out after the party.” Chan was rosy cheeked, slurring his speech as a champagne-bubble happiness sparkled all around him. “Sunny made reservations at one of the private karaoke rooms on thirty-two.”
“Yes.” I slapped his raised hand. “I’m in.”
“You like karaoke?” Elanie asked me with another amused nostril flare.
I scoffed. “Do krakelwyrms have acidic spikes?”
She frowned. “I have no idea.”
“Don’t let him fool you, Elanie,” Chan said. “Sem has one of the best singing voices on this ship. Every time you sing ‘The Only Star in Eranthia,’ there’s not a dry eye in the house.”
“This is completely untrue,” I said, leaning toward her, pulled like a magnet.Stars above, she smelled phenomenal, so sweet, like cinnamon and vanilla. I inhaled as inconspicuously as I could and,hmm, delicious.
“What’s going on here?” Sunny asked, sauntering up to join our impromptu meeting in the bathroom hallway.
“Dr. Semson is evidently a karaoke star,” Elanie deadpanned.
“You don’t have to tell me, darling.” Sunny winked. “Whenever he sings ‘The Only Star in?—”
“Please stop,” I begged, a blush scalding my cheeks.
“Elanie, will you come?” Sunny asked. “Please come.”
Turning toward me, Elanie said, “I’m oddly tempted to watch you sing one of the cheesiest songs ever written.”
I hung on each word from Elanie’s lips like they were branches keeping me from falling off a cliff—until they all snapped at once.
“But I can’t. Blake’s coming over after work.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” I lied.
One of her shoulders rose unenthusiastically toward her ear.
“What time does he get off?” Sunny asked.
“In a few hours,” Elanie answered.
Chan waved a hand through the air. “That’s plenty of time to come with us for a bit. Come on, Elanie. Live a little.”
I watched her spine straighten, and I knew she was going to say no. I didn’t want her to say no. Sacrificing my pride, I threw caution to the stars. “If you come,” I told her, “I promise to sing any song you want.”
So close to smiling again, she said, “Any?”
I hadn’t heard “Oops,I Kissed Him First” by the Old Earth twenty-second century pop star Macey Valentine in years, and I’d never once tried to sing it. Awkward didn’t begin to describe the sensation of belting “Didn’t mean to, but I kinda liked it,” in front of everyone—including Captain and Co-Captain Jones. But Elanie was watching me, smiling so wide her teeth were showing. And when I hit the high note on “he smeared my lip gloss,” her shoulders shook with laughter.
So I gave the song she’d requested by her favorite singer everything I had. I shook my hips. I walked the stage. I evengot down on my knees during the bridge, not caring how ridiculous I looked under the swirling disco lights. Not as long as I kept her laughing.
Toward the end of the song, the realization that I hadn’t worked this hard to impress someone in a very long time almost knocked me sideways. And when I sang the last refrain, “I thought he’d take me home, but I ended up alone,” the truth of the lyric made my voice wobble.
I was trying too hard. I was feeling things about a patient I shouldn’t be feeling. I would definitely end up alone. And I was in deep, deep trouble.
