Page 38 of Baby, It’s You (Clairesville #1)
Hunter
“Not a Korn fan?” I ask him.
“I’ll stick to The Rolling Stones and Nat King Cole,” he tells me.
“Where’s Johnny at? I haven’t seen him the past few times I’ve been here.”
“He's been visiting his daughter in Arizona; she just had a baby so he’s on grandpa duty now.”
I'm taken aback to hear that Johnny has a daughter. “No way! I had no clue he has a daughter.”
“Yeah, he keeps his personal life private from most people. I know he comes off as a jokester, but he can be a serious guy, too.”
I wonder about Johnny’s past then, knowing there must be a lot more to the guy other than his playful quirks and usually inappropriate jokes. I got a little peek into the man under the character when Mr. Purngast talked about how he tried to help him, showing what a good friend Johnny was to him.
Suddenly, I see a draft beer slide in front of me and look up to see Olive smiling.
“I thought you would need some liquid courage.” She has a slight smirk on her lips and a hint of naughtiness in her eyes. “Because you're up next.” She motions towards the stage.
I look over at the current drunken singers and quickly shake my head.
“No, no, no.” I turn to her, my eyes widening. “I don’t sing.”
“Everyone sings,” she tells me, and crosses her arms. “Also, you sang in the car with me.”
“Yes, I know I can sing, but I usually choose not to. Especially in a bar full of people.”
She leans over the bar, and I quickly try to divert my eyes from the sudden cleavage on display in front of me.
“Do something that scares you tonight,” she teases. “If I can go tubing when I can barely swim, you can sing for a room of drunk people.”
I run a hand across my face, thinking it over. “I’m warning you. I’m a terrible singer.”
“So?” Olive smiles. “The worse the singing, the better the karaoke. I love when someone has the confidence to get up on that stage knowing they aren't a vocalist. It takes balls.” She gives me a look, challenging me.
Hearing that, I have to do it now. I want to impress her, so I stand up. She raises an eyebrow, obviously happy with herself, so I decide to reach for her hand across the bar.
“Fine, but you're doing it with me.”
She bites the inside of her cheek. A moment goes by before she looks at my awaiting hand and finally places hers in it. The contact is like a jolt of electricity, always.
“Okay,” she concedes. “Let’s go, Curls.”
“I’ll watch your equipment,” a half slurring Eddie yells from a booth where he is currently chatting with the nice cougar that Wes gave a lap dance to.
“Great,” I murmur. “I’m sure you will, Eddie.”
“Come on, it’s just one song.” Olive laughs and pulls my arm, guiding me towards the stage.
“What song do you want to sing?” I ask her.
“Do you know ‘Lonely Day’ by System of a Down?”
“Yes, actually.” I snort. “That’s Eddie’s favorite band which means I have heard almost every song weekly for the past twenty years of friendship.”
“Perfect, because that’s what I want to sing.” She steps on the stage with me and leans forward to set up the song on the karaoke machine.
As it starts playing, I see Eddie’s head pop up from the booth and he lets out a “whoop!” in excitement.
Olive hands me a microphone and I can feel my hand start to sweat with nerves when I see multiple eyes staring at me from the crowd.
I clear my throat, and she winks at me. She reaches out and gives my free hand a squeeze in comfort.
The lyrics start and we both awkwardly begin singing them.
After the first minute of the song, we grow more comfortable, and our voices get louder, more confident.
A few people watching us start to sway, and someone even holds up a lighter.
Olive is loving this, I can tell; she’s smiling from ear to ear and giggling.
I decide that this is my moment to make a grand gesture.
To show her I will put myself out there for her, even if it makes me uncomfortable.
I channel my inner Gomez Addams and take her hand, dramatically bowing towards her as I sing.
Her eyes grow even bigger than normal as I maintain eye contact with her and bring my lips close to her hand.
Then, I gently kiss the top of it, my lips barely making contact.
I hear her gasp softly, and someone cheers in the audience, but Olive doesn’t break eye contact with me for a second.
She has completely stopped singing as I continue to serenade her.
Horribly. I know every word to the song without looking, so at least that’s a win to make up for my terrible singing.
As I stand up again from my bowed position in front of her, I draw her closer to me. We are less than an inch apart now, the only distance between us our microphones.
I continue to sing while we both hold intense eye contact with each other.
I perform the last few slow lyrics of the song and when it ends, she's still staring at me. I’m about to break our eye contact and start laughing when she grabs both sides of my face and pulls me in.
It takes me completely by surprise as she begins to kiss me deeply.
I fucking love karaoke.