Page 81 of Blossoms of the Heart
I looked at Phoebe.
Would she tell him no?
The smile on her face told me I was in for a surprise. It told me she liked him enough to accept his invite.
Must have been the intensity of my stare because she broke eye contact with him and glanced over at me.
I couldn’t even look away. I should have spared myself the embarrassment of being caught looking at them but I didn’t. I continued to hold her gaze until she broke the stare.
“Yes, yes to both.” She said to him. “I can’t imagine anyone who can talk so passionately about Frank Sinatra sounding bad.”
“I can assure you we don’t sound bad. At least I don’t.” Scott nodded with affirmation.
“Want to give me a taste?”
My pulse tensed.
Want to give me a taste?
My cock hardened as I imagined her saying that to me and then putting her gorgeous lips on my cock to give me head.
I needed to get my mind out of the gutter. The taste she was referring to was not a damn blow job. She wanted to hear Scott sing.
Mr. Love Himself looked so proud in that moment. When he opened his mouth to croon out some lyrics I’d never heard even the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
I couldn’t sing for shit and if I could, I doubted I would have sounded as good as him.
How was it that I’d known Scott for nearly eight months and never heard him sing?
Had I known he would have sounded like that I would have at the very least been prepared.
I picked up a pen, snapped it in half, and then continued to grind it in my hands as Phoebe clapped and squealed with delight.
“Oh my God, you are amazing. What are you doing working here?”
When people asked questions like that it was usually in places that were dumps. This was no dump. We were experts at what we did.
“Love digging around for old stuff too much. Singing is my thing I do for me. If I were to change it into anything other than for pleasure it wouldn’t be the same.”
How noble of him. If I had a fucking voice like that I’d be raking in as much dough as I could. In fact I’d do both.
“You are super talented. I will enjoy every minute of listening to you sing.”
“Great it’s a date.”
“Yes, it’s a… date.”
I looked away from them and focused on the row of shelves holding books of all sizes. Old books new books, journals.
Then I looked to the window. It was already dark outside. I planned to be here for another couple of hours.
Phoebe just agreed to go on a date with Scott.
A date.
What a shit day.
First I that fucking shit with Candace, then I stopped by the garage on my way here and heard that Dante had lost my Ferrari in a race last night.
