“She’s crazy good, right?” I say and Markus nods in agreement, moving his fist with each note. He thinks he’s the best dancer since Michael Jackson. I try to tell him he isn’t, but he doesn’t listen. But then, I can’t blame him for getting down. I don’t dance, but she is making me want to.
When she finishes with flair, I stand up, clapping loudly and hollering.
Apparently I am the only one who got the memo to do that.
My clap turns to a slow clap as I lower myself into my chair. Markus is laughing his ass off, and when I look up to Avery, she’s grinning, her cheeks still bright red.
“All right, then. Pumped-up crowd tonight,” she says soulfully into the mic. “Well, for those who don’t know my name and are not trying to sleep with me, I’m Avery Rose and I’m here to entertain you. So let’s do this.”
Markus is still laughing, but I don’t care. She’s good! She taps her foot on the ground, and a beat drops and then she is doing this sick-ass cover of “Can’t Feel My Face.” She’s so animated, I mean, fully into the music, and it’s amazing to see. The things she does with the guitar and that thing she keeps hitting with her foot are the tools to her magic, and I’m lucky to be a witness to it.
When her gaze meets mine, singing the chorus, I feel like she is singing just to me. Soon, my mouth is curving in the most sinful way.
Because the lyrics are true.
I can’t go without.
Without her.
When she finishes, again with a flair of her own, I, along with the crowd, erupt. She grins as she reaches for a bottle of water, taking a long pull from it. Putting it down, she moves her fingers along the strings as she comes back to the mic.
“I’m new around these parts,” she says then. “I came all the way from New Jersey to be a part of one of the best music programs in the country, and I’m glad I did.” She pauses as some of the crowd cheers for her. Guess there are a lot of music department folks here, but I don’t notice because all I see is her. “Up north, there isn’t much country, but here, it’s everything. And I think I love it. So let’s change things up, shall we?” Someone in the crowd agrees, but I don’t look to see who it is. “This morning the guy in the front row who is hollering like a madman—” she pauses, sending me a grin, and I let out a whoop that has the crowd laughing “—anyway, he called me June Carter. And because of that, I am inspired to play this.”
Avery then pushes her guitar behind her, taking ahold of the mic. The guitar looks so huge against her back. Some would look dumb, but she looks right at home. And when she hits the thing on the floor and a beat drops, the crowd is silent. Especially when she starts to rap “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash.
No shit.
I’m floored.
I’ve never been so impressed in my life.
All because of this small, gorgeous girl.
Who will be mine.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
Why am I nervous?
I’m never nervous.
What the hell?
Why am I even asking myself that? I know why. It starts and ends with Jace Sinclair. He’s sitting in the front row like he belongs there, and he is cheering me on in the most obnoxious way.
Can I be honest?
I fucking love it.
Like hard-core.
He’s watching me like I’m the only person in the room. Unlike everyone else in the café, he hasn’t looked at his phone, not even once. His gaze has been trained on me, moving his head to the beat and singing along to the songs he knows. It’s amazing and so damn sweet. I know he is here for me. I mean, I knew that before I got here, but I’ve never really had someone who was there for me. To cheer me on. But Jace, he’s that guy tonight, and it makes me feel some kind of way I’m trying to ignore. It’s just so damn hard.
Especially when he stands at the end of every single one of my songs, hollering my name and clapping loudly. Some girls would think he’s just trying to get laid—and he might be—but I don’t want to think that. I want to think he is being genuine, that he is enjoying my music and me. By the looks of him, I truly believe it. But then, is that me being a naïve girl again? I’m unsure, but I don’t want to ruin this by overthinking it. I want to soak it in and enjoy the attention.
It’s nice to feel important for once.
Grinning like a fool, I look down at my loop pedal while I set it for the next song. My playlist for tonight isn’t what I usually play. This is only my fourth show, but tonight is different. I’m pretty upbeat, which I guess is good since it’s not typically how I roll. Usually, I sing sad, depressing music, but tonight, I feel good. I feel happy, excited, and I’m sure I owe that all to him.
The whole day, he’s been a constant presence. Texting and calling me at every turn. I’ve never had someone come at me like he is. It’s kind of intimidating—but in a good way, if that makes sense. I don’t know. It’s never been like this with anyone I’ve dated or slept with. Well, I only dated Caleb and slept with a couple other guys, so I really don’t have a good basis for how this should go. But it just seems different. It’s crazy and I know I need to calm down, but it’s hard to when I look up and my eyes are pulled to him instantly.
“Let’s slow it down,” I say then.
I smile when I’m met with a suggestive “Yeah” from my front-row fan. I look at the next song, fully expecting to play it. Then, I have no clue why, but my fingers are playing a different song. A song I hadn’t planned on playing. I had wanted to play a cover of Taylor Swift, but that’s not what I’m doing. Still holding his gaze, I smile when he realizes what I’m playing. When I start to sing, the color of his eyes darkens, and it takes everything in me to remember the lyrics I wrote.
The lyrics to his song.
The song I have yet to admit is his, but I know the truth.
So does he.
Unable to tear my gaze from him, I play the song from my heart. The same place the song was written from. I love it. It’s probably my favorite song I’ve ever written and not just because it’s a lyrically great song but because of who it’s about. I’ll forever have this song as a reminder of him. Of the way he felt against me and beneath me. Nothing or no one can tear our night away from me because I have it in these lyrics. It’s special.
When she finishes with flair, I stand up, clapping loudly and hollering.
Apparently I am the only one who got the memo to do that.
My clap turns to a slow clap as I lower myself into my chair. Markus is laughing his ass off, and when I look up to Avery, she’s grinning, her cheeks still bright red.
“All right, then. Pumped-up crowd tonight,” she says soulfully into the mic. “Well, for those who don’t know my name and are not trying to sleep with me, I’m Avery Rose and I’m here to entertain you. So let’s do this.”
Markus is still laughing, but I don’t care. She’s good! She taps her foot on the ground, and a beat drops and then she is doing this sick-ass cover of “Can’t Feel My Face.” She’s so animated, I mean, fully into the music, and it’s amazing to see. The things she does with the guitar and that thing she keeps hitting with her foot are the tools to her magic, and I’m lucky to be a witness to it.
When her gaze meets mine, singing the chorus, I feel like she is singing just to me. Soon, my mouth is curving in the most sinful way.
Because the lyrics are true.
I can’t go without.
Without her.
When she finishes, again with a flair of her own, I, along with the crowd, erupt. She grins as she reaches for a bottle of water, taking a long pull from it. Putting it down, she moves her fingers along the strings as she comes back to the mic.
“I’m new around these parts,” she says then. “I came all the way from New Jersey to be a part of one of the best music programs in the country, and I’m glad I did.” She pauses as some of the crowd cheers for her. Guess there are a lot of music department folks here, but I don’t notice because all I see is her. “Up north, there isn’t much country, but here, it’s everything. And I think I love it. So let’s change things up, shall we?” Someone in the crowd agrees, but I don’t look to see who it is. “This morning the guy in the front row who is hollering like a madman—” she pauses, sending me a grin, and I let out a whoop that has the crowd laughing “—anyway, he called me June Carter. And because of that, I am inspired to play this.”
Avery then pushes her guitar behind her, taking ahold of the mic. The guitar looks so huge against her back. Some would look dumb, but she looks right at home. And when she hits the thing on the floor and a beat drops, the crowd is silent. Especially when she starts to rap “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash.
No shit.
I’m floored.
I’ve never been so impressed in my life.
All because of this small, gorgeous girl.
Who will be mine.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
Why am I nervous?
I’m never nervous.
What the hell?
Why am I even asking myself that? I know why. It starts and ends with Jace Sinclair. He’s sitting in the front row like he belongs there, and he is cheering me on in the most obnoxious way.
Can I be honest?
I fucking love it.
Like hard-core.
He’s watching me like I’m the only person in the room. Unlike everyone else in the café, he hasn’t looked at his phone, not even once. His gaze has been trained on me, moving his head to the beat and singing along to the songs he knows. It’s amazing and so damn sweet. I know he is here for me. I mean, I knew that before I got here, but I’ve never really had someone who was there for me. To cheer me on. But Jace, he’s that guy tonight, and it makes me feel some kind of way I’m trying to ignore. It’s just so damn hard.
Especially when he stands at the end of every single one of my songs, hollering my name and clapping loudly. Some girls would think he’s just trying to get laid—and he might be—but I don’t want to think that. I want to think he is being genuine, that he is enjoying my music and me. By the looks of him, I truly believe it. But then, is that me being a naïve girl again? I’m unsure, but I don’t want to ruin this by overthinking it. I want to soak it in and enjoy the attention.
It’s nice to feel important for once.
Grinning like a fool, I look down at my loop pedal while I set it for the next song. My playlist for tonight isn’t what I usually play. This is only my fourth show, but tonight is different. I’m pretty upbeat, which I guess is good since it’s not typically how I roll. Usually, I sing sad, depressing music, but tonight, I feel good. I feel happy, excited, and I’m sure I owe that all to him.
The whole day, he’s been a constant presence. Texting and calling me at every turn. I’ve never had someone come at me like he is. It’s kind of intimidating—but in a good way, if that makes sense. I don’t know. It’s never been like this with anyone I’ve dated or slept with. Well, I only dated Caleb and slept with a couple other guys, so I really don’t have a good basis for how this should go. But it just seems different. It’s crazy and I know I need to calm down, but it’s hard to when I look up and my eyes are pulled to him instantly.
“Let’s slow it down,” I say then.
I smile when I’m met with a suggestive “Yeah” from my front-row fan. I look at the next song, fully expecting to play it. Then, I have no clue why, but my fingers are playing a different song. A song I hadn’t planned on playing. I had wanted to play a cover of Taylor Swift, but that’s not what I’m doing. Still holding his gaze, I smile when he realizes what I’m playing. When I start to sing, the color of his eyes darkens, and it takes everything in me to remember the lyrics I wrote.
The lyrics to his song.
The song I have yet to admit is his, but I know the truth.
So does he.
Unable to tear my gaze from him, I play the song from my heart. The same place the song was written from. I love it. It’s probably my favorite song I’ve ever written and not just because it’s a lyrically great song but because of who it’s about. I’ll forever have this song as a reminder of him. Of the way he felt against me and beneath me. Nothing or no one can tear our night away from me because I have it in these lyrics. It’s special.
