Page 109 of Behind the Net

“Everyone welcome Pippa Hartley!”

My eyes go wide as the bar cheers and applauds, half the patrons turning to look at me as I sit there frozen.

“What?” I ask Jamie as my pulse restarts at a gallop, whooshing in my ears.

He lowers his mouth to my ear. “Get up there, songbird. I want to hear my Christmas present live.”

I meet his eyes, and my lips part. I blink at him, clinging to his gaze.

Performing at the Filthy Flamingo back in Vancouver, there were thirty people there, mostly the team. This place is packed. The crowd around the bar alone is eight people deep. Every chair and booth is full, and it’s standing room only. There are at least two hundred people here.

I’m freaking out.

“I can’t,” I whisper, shaking my head.

Everyone is staring at me.

He holds my gaze, so strong, steady, and full of affection. His mouth curves into a gorgeous smile. “Yes, you can. I know you can.”

I glance around the bar, meeting familiar gazes as they watch and wait. Jamie always thinks I can do it, and every time, he’s been right. A funny feeling cuts through the panic and stage fright—determination. If I don’t do this, I’ll be proving that I’m not right for the music industry. That I’m just that girl who used to date the famous singer.

I want to prove them wrong, and more than anything, I want to prove Jamie right.

“Okay,” I whisper, nodding at Jamie. “Okay.”

His grin stretches across his face, and my pulse stumbles. “Alright.”

God, I love making him proud like that.

I head up to the mic, savoring the brush of his fingers on my lower back as I pass him. The crowd applauds, and I take the guitar handed to me on stage, slipping the strap over my shoulder before I stand at the mic and stare out at the crowd.

It’s just like the first time, when I stepped up to the mic in the bar after Jamie made me that deal. My heart’s beating like a drum and I’m hyperaware of everyone waiting.

“I’m Pippa Hartley,” I say into the mic, and my voice is strong and clear. “And this is a song about revenge.”

The crowd whoops, excited and drunk, and I meet Jamie’s gaze. He gives me a firm nod, still smiling, and I launch into it. I sing the song about getting back up after getting stepped on, the one that makes me feel strong and powerful. My voice rings out, and I dig deep, giving the song everything. On the last round of the chorus, I stop playing the guitar while I sing. The audience claps in time, and I beam back at them as I sing.

A woman near the small stage hollers in support and appreciation, and I wink at her. My chest bursts with energy and pride, and I’m flying high. I finish the song with full commitment, and when I play the last chord, the roof blows off the bar.

It’s euphoria. I’m floating, gliding higher than ever, heart racing and skin tingling. I’ve never felt like this, and I already know I’m addicted.

CHAPTER52

JAMIE

The bar roarswith drunken appreciation for Pippa, and I watch as she gives the crowd a shy smile, hands the guitar off, and makes her way off the stage.

Seeing her up there, it’s so obvious: I’m head over fucking heels for this girl, and I have been for a long time. A lot longer than I realized.

Pippa Hartley has me wrapped around her little finger. I’ll do anything for her, and I’m not even mad about it. I want to do terrible things to her, make her come with my mouth and my hands and my cock, make her scream my name and show her how fucking incredible sex can be. I know sinking into her tight, wet pussy is going to change my life.

It’s not just the sex, though. I want to wake up with her, spend free evenings watching a movie on the couch, and go for walks in the woods with Daisy.

I don’t know how, but we’re going to figure this out. All the stuff with my mom, my concerns about hurting Pippa like I hurt Erin, I’m going to deal with it. I’m going to fix it. I don’t want to be weighed down by it anymore.

I just want Pippa.

She reaches our group, and I gather her in my arms, burying my face in her hair, inhaling her warm scent.

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