“Hey.” She stops in front of me, and wearing the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, doesn’t hesitate to take my lips with hers and kisses me.
Fuck, I’ve missed having someone claiming me for all to see.
Not wasting a second of our kiss, I deepen it and force her to open for me. I lick her tongue like I would her pussy, unhurriedly, sensually and hungrily. And while I get lost inside of her mouth, nothing else seems to exist.
My hands find their way to the nape of her neck, and my body slams into her. If I could, I would fuck her in the middle of the street.
Damn the consequences.
I laugh at myself.
For a guy who has been petrified of every outcome in his life for five years, I’m now ready to throw caution to the wind because of a blue-haired girl. I knew she was dangerous from the start.
When I shove my hips against hers, she slows me down. Her hand comes on my chest and pushes me away, slowly. I push her back in and steal another kiss before stopping.
“You started it,” I finally say when we separate.
“Yeah and you finished the job quite passionately.” She looks at me and I adjust myself to hide my state of arousal. “What are we doing, Green-eyes?”
I haven’t told her yet.
The only clue I gave was a dress code. If I’m not the one who can jump from a plane or drive on tracks anymore, I can still give her a little thrill, at least I hope.
“Do you like singing?” I smirk, knowing what I planned.
“Like it? Yes. Being good at it? That’s another story.”
“Well then you won’t see any problem standing on stage, sober, in front of strangers and belting out “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac?” She frowns and smirks at the same time, and I can’t help kissing the corner of her lips.
“Fleetwood Mac?” she exclaims. “No, if I have to be ridiculous on a stage, I’ll do it to Alanis.”
“So predictable,” I say, taking her hand in mine and tugging at it for her to follow me.
“I’m far from being predictable,” she pouts. It’s so fucking adorable. I want to eat her up.
“Every woman your age would choose to sing Alanis.” I playfully roll my eyes.
“And every guy your age would choose Lynyrd Skynyrd.” I stop in my tracks.
“How old do you think I am, Tessa?”
“Well, you’re the one speaking of Fleetwood Mac… So I assumed you were as old as their music.” She tries to contain her laugh but fails. It’s a burst of sunny laughter in the rainy days my life has been until now, and I can feel my heart growing out of my chest like a fucking rainbow on steroids.
“Incredible,” I grumble. “You’re going to get on stage, sing Ironic, and we’ll see who would make fun of the other then.” Walking toward the bar, I interlock our fingers and squeeze her hand when she continues laughing, smiling like a fool myself.
Once sitting in a booth with drinks in front of us at the karaoke bar, Tessa quiets down when she realizes the people getting on stage aren’t bad singers at all. Trying to make me uncomfortable, she signs me up for an Alanis song. I retaliate by doing the same with a Bruno Mars one. Waiting for our turn, we hear a good amount of Darling Devils songs and I can’t stop myself from filming some of the best ones and send the videos to Dan saying I found his replacement. When it’s my turn, my heart skips a beat. I haven’t felt this excited in a while. It’s nothing crazy like I did before, but it’s a great way to get my blood flowing somewhere else, rather than in my dick for four minutes.
Lightheaded, I go on stage, knowing Tessa is in for a surprise.
I’m no Dan Darling, but I can sing.
Something that runs in the Spencer family. Starting the iconic Ironic, I try not to look at her. There is something nerve-wracking singing in front of the person you’re crushing hard on. As if the song you choose tells them everything there is to know about yourself.
Thankfully what I’m singing isn’t my choice but it tells me everything I need to know about Tessa right now.
Yes, us meeting now is ironic.
Seeing our situation, it’s a perfect choice.
Both in love with people that aren’t around anymore.
Both trying to survive.
Both finding a little bit of peace in the other.
My eyes find hers, and I get into the song more than I thought I would. My voice cracks, but I’ve learned to embrace it, and seeing the star she carries in her gaze, I’m doing just fine through it all.
Once I’m done, I go back to her, and I’m welcomed by a gentle kiss. I try not to push too far this time.
“You can sing!” I shrug at her observation, playing a false modesty I know she’s not buying. “Come on, Green-eyes. You brought me to sing karaoke, knowing you would slay it. It’s like me bringing you to a race, knowing I’ll beat you.” She smiles, and I’m not sure if it’s the idea of her kicking my ass or the hope I see in her eyes, but I’m not as uncomfortable at the thought of driving at a fast speed as I usually am. Something feels looser in my chest, the perpetual weight I’m carrying less cumbersome than usual.
“We could start with go-karting,” I smile, wondering to myself where that idea comes from but happy I could take the step with her.
“It’s a date!” She beams and I feel proud to be the reason for her burst of delight. “I used to go go-karting all the time with my father when I was a kid. Then he died and well… I wasn’t allowed anymore. I started again when I was traveling and it felt like something called me to do it. Have
