I’d seen Allie perform her own music before, so karaoke shouldn’t have been quite as magical. But that night at the open mic, she’d been nervous, afraid to share a piece of herself. This time, she was putting on a show. Having fun. Playing. Again, I wished I could give her this kind of life, this kind of pure joy, in some way that was more permanent.
I heard both of my friends gasp a little when that bold, lovely voice came out of her mouth. They’d seen her YouTube videos, had seen the recording I took of her at the open mic before I sent it off to one of the agents in my employ who signed artists like Allie from time to time. But Allie Tate live was something else. She gave the familiar tune an Allie-specific twist, and we were all dancing along, watching her with rapt attention and goofy grins on our faces. When the song reached an iconic instrumental part and Allie danced as if no one was watching, the sway of her hips and her swinging red locks putting the audience in some kind of trance.
“Christ, I think I need to keep her,” I heard myself say to my friends, who nodded alongside me. I heard their agreement, the implied we, and felt a jolt of hope even as the specter of Daphne’s paternity still loomed over our heads.
Sure, there was no guarantee that Allie would pick whoever Daphne’s father was, letting the unlucky two of us who didn’t share her kid’s DNA fall to the wayside. She didn’t seem like the type to play with us that way, now that she’d given us a chance. Now that she was introducing us all to Daphne and going on a real-life first date with all three of us by her side. She may have been flightier back in Vegas, but she’d grown into an incredible woman and mother in the years since, and there was somethinghonest and open about her affection for each of us that didn’t feel like she was interested in games. And she certainly wasn’t a woman who was caught up in convention. An arrangement like this, Allie sharing all three of us, giving us each the bliss of her body and a piece of her endlessly big heart…I thought it would suit her. It suited all of us right now, if the easy camaraderie we’d shared all evening could be trusted.
But I knew that tonight was different. An experiment, but outside of the real world, without the usual variables that might make a four-way relationship more trouble than it was worth. I knew my best friends, knew that Cade and Luca both had always been hardcore monogamists. They’d always dreamed of little wives and picket fences, even if they wouldn’t admit it now. There was no guarantee they’d be down to share just because tonight felt so right.
“I think I could get used to this,” Cade said, and while I believed him and believed the easy way Luca agreed too, it didn’t completely shut down my worries that we couldn’t have it all once tonight was over.
Allie’s voice picked back up with the bridge, the final belting chorus of the song. As her last note floated over the room, applause erupted. And Allie preened as her walk back to the table was interrupted by a half-dozen people stopping to tell her how great she was. She made it back to our little table at last, and once she downed nearly her whole glass of water, she smiled up at me.
“Alright, Mr. Ratliff. You have to sing a duet with me after that. I don’t make the rules.”
I laughed as she propped her hands on her hips, so cute even when she was trying to look stern and determined. “You don’t? Who does?”
Before she could answer the rhetorical question, I leaned in, planted a kiss on her cheek, and said into her ear, “How could I say no to you?”
That smile. Christ, it could knock me over, bright and shining and spread wide across the gorgeous face that haunted my dreams. I could hardly pay attention as she mulled over our song choice, and I could practically feel my eyes turn into big cartoon hearts as I watched her sign us up. Two weak, rock n’ roll-themed drinks for me and a fair bit of water for all of us later, our names got called together, Allie and Gavin, and I tried not to be stupidly giddy about how good it sounded to my ears.
If it weren’t for the drinks, I would’ve hated being on that stage. Okay, if it weren’t for the drinks and Allie. She belonged on the stage. And as the music started up, I laughed out loud that she’d chosen a corny oldies love duet for us to sing together. She started off the song, and when we locked eyes before my part, there was something powerful and seductive between us.
I sang and danced my way through the duet, letting Allie shine. Not that she needed my help with that—she was the talent here. But when we stumbled into each other’s arms, a warm and clumsy hug to commemorate our moment in the spotlight, Allie laughed and said, “I had no idea you had such a nice voice!”
I felt my cheeks heat at the compliment. “I grew up around musicians. Picked up a couple of things here and there.”
“And now you’re modest too?” she teased, bumping my arm with her shoulder. “You really are a surprising man.”
“Well, that’s not the end of the surprises for tonight,” I told her, meeting a familiar gaze across the room. I gestured to the woman I’d invited in secret, beckoning her over.
“What are you—?” Allie started, but then our new friend stepped in.
“Allie Tate?” the tall, elegant woman dressed in a sleek pantsuit greeted her, holding out a hand. “Delia Nance. I’m anagent with this one’s label.” She pointed a thumb at me, and Allie’s jaw dropped.
“You…you’re an agent?” she asked, eyes darting between Delia and me. She landed on me just long enough to say, “Did you?—?”
“Delia and I talked about your talent, and she was interested in a meeting. A showcase. I thought, might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
“That’s a gross saying,” she said, wrinkling her nose adorably. “What did the birds ever do to you?”
Delia let out a full, booming laugh. “Talentedandfunny. You were great up there, Miss Tate. Made Gavin look good even.”
I’d known Delia for over a decade. She’d joined Ratliff Records under my dad’s reign, and she’d always been like a cool aunt to me. But her interest in Allie as a potential client was genuine and had very little to do with me, beyond the fact that I’d sent her a link to Allie’s old YouTube channel. She looked at my girl—fuck, when had I started thinking of her as my girl?—with the kind of genuine interest that might have made me jealous if I didn’t know Delia had been married to her wife Prue for damn near forever.
“Could you give us girls a minute to chat, Gav? We might have some business to discuss.”
Cade and Luca gave me questioning looks when I made it back to the table without Allie. I pointed toward where our girl was talking seriously with Delia, explaining, “Little music exec meet-and-greet.”
“Show-off,” Cade grumbled, and I shrugged through a smug grin.
“She deserves it,” Luca said, always the most selfless of us. “She’s incredible.”
We all agreed with that, at least.
We watched Allie’s impromptu meeting with a mixture of apprehension and hope, all of us invested in her future music career if not just because of our romantic feelings for her then because we’d all witnessed her bring the house down in this karaoke bar tonight. I felt a spark of excitement as Delia handed Allie a business card, and then our girl was beaming as she bounced back to us on her toes.
“How’d it go?” I started to ask her, but before my full sentence could come out, Allie was throwing herself into my arms and kissing me hard on the mouth. That was answer enough, I guessed.
