“Sure you don’t want to come?” I ask Bastian jokingly.
“Fuck you,” he grunts, causing Verity to chastise him and Quinn’s brows to jump to her hairline.
Driving down the busy streets in Bastian’s Lamborghini, I lace my fingers through hers as I shift gears. Fast has always felt free, and I push the limits. She squeezes my fingers for dear life as I race through the streets, knowing that Bastian’s plates that sayBabau, another damn word for boogeyman (he has gone a little overboard in his embracement of the damn nickname) will stop me from getting pulled over.
“Oh my God, you’re gonna get us killed,” Quinn screams as she grips the door.
I laugh at her reaction. It shouldn’t be funny, but I can’t stop laughing. Finally, I slow down as we get closer to the busierpart of town, and I bring her hand to my lips. “I may not have promised I won’t break your heart, but I’ll never let anything happen to that beautiful body.”
She throws her head back with a peel of laughter. “Of course, you’re more concerned with my body than my heart.”
I smile. I don’t tell her I’m concerned with both but can only prevent one.
We pull up to the place I’m bringing her and hand the keys off to the valet.
“What is this place?” she asks as we walk into the smokey club. But my lips are sealed until I know I have her blocked in a booth with no escape.
We slide into the booth, and she turns to me with questions in her eyes.
“What?” I chuckle.
“How are you able to just walk around without getting mauled?”
A boisterous laugh explodes from my chest as I shake my head in amusement. “Really? You’re just now asking that?”
Even in the dark club, I can see the flush that spreads across her cheeks. “I just thought of it.”
“This is home,” I tell her with a smile. “No matter how long I’m away, it will always be home. Usually, if I’m in town for a concert, I have to lay low, but when I’m justhome, people don’t get crazy. Tourists get more excited than locals. You have to remember, I’ve been playing concerts for locals since I was ten years old.”
“Wait? What?” she chokes on her coke the waitress brought her. “You mean recitals, right? Like normal ones all kids play in.”
“No,” I chuckle. “I mean charity balls, benefit concerts, and with the River City Orchestra once or twice.”
“Holy crap,” she breathes. “I was freaking out about singing in a school musical when I was ten.”
“What happened?”
“I forgot the words, my voice screeched, and I started crying. God, it was humiliating.”
“You had stage fright.” It’s a statement, not a question. “I’ve had it before. Not performing. If I wasn’t born for anything else, I was born for music. But the interviews and photoshoots. Those suck. I’ve lost my lunch more than a few times. I eventually figured out that I shouldn’t eat first.”
“It was stage fright. I was the joke of the class for a few days but nothing too awful. I tried again a couple more times, but eventually, I quit being able to hum a note in front of anyone. Until you.”
I blow out a breath, knowing full well she’s about to lose her shit when I tell her why I’m really here. It’s a dirty, despicable plan thatI came up with a few nights ago in hopes of helping her break out of her shell.
“Bienvenue, and thank you for coming out to our weekly karaoke night.”
Quinn’s eyes meet mine,filled with terror. I squeeze her thigh in a weak attempt of reassurance. “What did you do?” she rasps out.
“Our list for the evening is full of people ready to show their talents and one very special performance that I know you all will love.”
“So, I signed us up.”
Her whole body begins to shake,and I get the feeling I have seriously underestimated her fear. “I can’t, Maddox. I can’t go up there.”
I pull her close to me, kissing her head. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be right there with you. And not to brag or anything, but it’s me, so no one will be looking at you.”
She giggles quietly into my chest then sighs. “Maddox, I can’t.”
