it?” the man asked.
“Uh, without,
please.”
Singing acapella
was more my style than trying to keep up with the bouncing ball on a screen. I
strummed the strings, refusing to look out into the crowd, but focused on how
appropriate this song was right now. Biting my lip, I closed my eyes, getting
lost in the opening chords of “California Dreamin’” by The Mamas and The Papas.
I mean, who could resist the title alone, given my situation?
My voice hit its
full range with the opening words, and I hoped it wasn’t too loud in the
microphone. Mine wasn’t a quiet one. Finally, at the end, I glanced out into
the crowd. You could’ve heard a pin drop. My anxiety started creeping up as I
thought maybe it hadn’t been good until everyone erupted into full applause,
complete with whistles and people standing up. I smiled broadly, handing the
guitar over to the man in charge.
Stepping off the
stage, I stumbled most likely because of the dark and the alcohol, before an
arm went around my waist from the back. I immediately recognized the feel of Colby
this time. When I turned around, my breath caught at the intense look he was
giving me.
He swallowed
hard and then seemed to snap out of whatever he’d been thinking. “Nice song
choice.”
“I couldn’t
resist. So I guess liquid courage did the trick, and I won the bet.”
“I’d say so. I
knew you’ve always loved music, but I didn’t realize you sounded like that. You
were incredible.”
I blushed.
“Thanks. Uh, I think the shots are starting to hit me. Do you think it’d be
okay to go back to the room and maybe sit in the hot tub?” I’d spotted the
Jacuzzi out on the terrace and it would fit in nicely for what I had in mind
for my prize.
“Sure, we can
head back. Come on.”
On the way out,
quite a few people stopped me to compliment my singing. I was on an
unimaginable high from finally being able to perform in front of others. Now,
if only getting drunk before an audition was acceptable, I could maybe start to
contemplate music school.
***
Thirty minutes
later we returned to the hotel, but when I tried to get out of the car, I
realized I was quickly passing the point of tipsy into full-on drunk.
Colby laughed,
putting an arm around me to steady my walk.
“You doing
okay?”
“Sure am,” I
slurred, causing him to laugh even harder.
“I think those
shots are catching up with you. Come on.”
He led me up to
the room via the elevator and, once inside, handed me a bottle of water. “Drink
this before you go to bed, sweetheart.”
“What happened
to the hot tub?” At least that’s what I meant to say, but it didn’t sound quite
right to my ears.
“I think you’ve
reached your limit. You need to chug some water, then sleep it off.”
“I need my prize
from winning the bet first.” I pouted.
He smiled
indulgently. “Have you decided what it is you want?”
I stepped into
him, putting both hands on his chest, meeting his eyes. I could feel his heart
racing with the contact, matching my own. “I want a kiss. And not one on the
cheek, not a peck, but a real one.”
He didn’t pull
back, which was encouraging. “Why?”
I shrugged,
hoping I was playing it cool despite teetering on inebriation. “Maybe I want to
see what the fuss is all about.”
His voice went
down an octave, into a smoldering tone that was pure sex and sin. “Kenz, I
don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“One, you’re
like my little sister.”
Ouch, that one
hurt. “Then forget it. I’m a gonna go to bed.” Jesus, I sounded like an Italian
pizza maker. Unfortunately, I turned too fast in my heels, nearly face planting
for a third time this evening. Thank God he caught me around my waist.
“Two, you’re
drunk and might not know what you’re asking.”
“I’m not that
drunk.” The expression on his face was unfamiliar. Was he nervous?
“I worry about
what it might mean to you.”
I crinkled my
nose. “Do you think I’ve never
Learning to Kill: Stories