“My turn,” I say, swiping one of the microphones from Casey.
“You just wanna show us all up,” Dash says, sinking deeper into his new husband.
I might be able to sing a little bit, and while I have sung at their karaoke nights in the past, I don’t make a habit. Haven’t felt like it, but I do tonight. I find the song I want as they file off, sitting with Dirk, who hasn’t moved from the spot I left him in. His eyes crinkle with weariness and the weight of indecision.
My son and his friends hoot and laugh, clapping for me before I’ve started.
“Everyone should get their Iris,” I say.
Every word rips out of me, raw, like I’m spilling things I shouldn’t. Hell, I am spilling things I shouldn’t. The words breathe across the gravel of my throat and come out as something smoky and raspy. I do my best not to sing directly to Dirk or look at him for too long, but this is for him. My voice breaks on the words I mean the most. I’d burn the world down for Dirk, and I want him to know it.
The entire restaurant breaks with applause when the music falls away. I exit the floor as soon as possible. “Who’s up next?” I say holding out the mic.
“Time for first round of Piano Man?” Jack says.
Mercy groans. Dash jumps up, pumping his fist. “Alright!”
I sit. Not my fault the only seat left available is next to Dirk. Just being near him is my serenity.
“Iris, Trav? Nice,” Logan says. “I sing Stanley Goo Goo Dolls lyrics all the time.”
“You’re my Iris, baby,” Rhett says to Logan.
“Or maybe you’re mine,” Logan counters.
“I think it’s time for us to go,” Rhett says, his voice heavy with lust. “Unless you want?—”
“Nope! It’s been a slice. Take me to bed, Gorilla.”
Rhett’s up, tugging Logan with him. “Send us a link to their wedding registry,” he says. “We’ll send them something extra epic for cutting out early.”
I’m jealous. All I wanna do is steal Dirk away.
Mercy glares after Rhett and Logan, then turns his attention to Stacey. “Shouldn’t the happy couple go home to consummate their marriage?” he suggests. Maybe he wants to get home, too.
“Pretty sure they already did,” Casey says, snickering.
“Casey,” Stace says.
“Trav’s right here,” Dirk stresses.
He ducks his head. “Um, sorry, Trav. But Trav knows, Dirk. Jeez.”
I place a hand over my chest as if I’m clutching my pearls. “I did not know. As far as I’m concerned, my son is pure.”
They laugh.
“We should leave, too, kitten,” Sutter says.
“Nah. Your dick’s gonna have to wait, Sutter. I’m not letting those two end the night. I wanna do my rendition of Our Lady Peace.”
The table groans.
“And this is why I hide that thing,” I stress to Dirk.
“Yeah, this is my bad. Sorry,” he says. But he doesn’t sound sorry. He’s watching Dash belt Billy Joel with Jack’s arm slung around him. He smiles wider when Stacey heads up to join them for the chorus.
Dirk figured he wouldn’t be missed at the house, which was good, because I had things to discuss with him. First on the docket was where the hell did he go in the courthouse? After, I made his ass cheeks match, so that if he was worried we were any less just because we weren’t married—yet—he could feel me on his ass and know he’s mine. And maybe a few extra for releasing the location of the karaoke machine.
