Page 43 of Hard Rock Tease

"Want to go to Walt's?"

I made a face. "That sketchy bar of yours?"

"Do you really want to go out in public and watch me get attacked by a flock of fangirls?"

He had a point. Darkest Days was famous enough that going to a regular bar or pub would be risky. As the front man, too many people might recognize him.

"Fine. Sketchy biker bar it is."

"Look on the bright side. Maybe Jessie will be working and you two can gossip about me again," he said sarcastically.

When we arrived, I saw that Jessie was working, but she was too busy to talk. The bar was surprisingly packed for a mid-week afternoon.

The moment we walked through the door Noah groaned, halting in the doorway. I almost bumped into his back.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Great," he muttered. "Just what I need."

Peeking around his shoulder, I saw about a dozen men and a handful of women standing near the small stage at the back of the bar. I hadn't noticed it the first time.

"You guys have live music here?"

"If you can call it that," Noah muttered. He went straight to the bar where Walt was pouring the beer on tap into glasses. I followed, craning my neck around to continue watching the stage. Jessie was there, fiddling around with what looked like an old fashioned stereo and TV.

"Two beers," Noah told Walt.

"You really gonna stick around?" Walt grunted. "You hate karaoke."

I choked back a snort. "Karaoke? This place?"

"This guy hates listening to amateurs," Walt said, speaking to me. "Too stuck up for his own good."

"Noah Hart."

I turned to see Jessie grinning at Noah from the stage.

"Is Mr. Cranky Pants here to show us all how it's done?" She spoke into the microphone, speakers amplifying her voice.

"You sing karaoke?" I asked Noah, trying not to laugh.

"Hell no."

"Aw, c'mon," Jessie cajoled.

Noah turned his back on her, facing the bar.

She laughed into the microphone. "Alright boys, who's first?"

A large, muscle-bound man in a leather vest stood from his table with a swagger. Moments later he took the stage to sing a barely passable rendition of Aerosmith'sDream On. I couldn't help wince at his missed high notes.

"Can't believe I'm sitting here listening to this," Noah muttered into his beer.

"You're the one who chose this place."

"Worst mistake of my life."

I suppressed a giggle. "You sure you don't want to get up on stage? Show those guys a thing or two?"