Flirting with the Rock Star Next Door

by Nadia Lee

  “Mir said the bar has a dress code,” Emily said.

  “She did?” That lying little…

  My sister stuck her tongue out behind Emily.

  Impudent, too. But then I got to see Emily decked out. She was pretty anyway, even with her hair messy, glasses skewed and in an old T-shirt and ratty yoga pants. But I didn’t know until now how much more beautiful she could be. I couldn’t believe I’d thought she was a vagrant when we first met. Now I wished I’d brought flowers, because a woman this stunning deserved them.

  Emily deserved the best.

  Making a mental note to get some later, I extended an arm. “Ready?”

  “Yup.” She placed a hand in the crook of my elbow. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Emily

  Although I’d spent close to two hours fussing over my hair and makeup, all the while arguing with Mir, the end result was worth it. The look on Killian’s face was the perfect reward for the effort—the darkening of his blue eyes and the soft exhale of breath when he’d said, “Wow.”

  Mir was sitting in the back of the SUV, and she was chattering about stuff I wasn’t paying much attention to as Killian drove, but it almost felt like a date. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been out on one. Maybe early last year? Nor could I remember a time when there had been this many butterflies in my belly. I didn’t think I was this excited when I went out with the first-string quarterback from my high school.

  The drive to Sam’s Brew was short. Killian jumped out and opened my door for me. Mir knocked on the window and said, “Hey, what about me?”

  “You have arms,” he said, then reached over and opened it for her anyway.

  My smile widened a bit. You could figure out what kind of man you were dealing with by looking at how he treated his mother and sister. And I liked what I was seeing between Killian and Mir.

  The sign outside the squat wooden building read: SAM’S KARAOKE NIGHT! SING, DRINK AND BE MERRY! $4 HOP HOP HOORAY! Judging by the noise coming from inside, there were a lot of people there already. But then, it was a little after seven thirty now.

  I took a deep breath. It was inevitable that I’d have to deal with the people in Kingstree at some point. At least I wasn’t facing them all by myself. If I got lucky, they’d be too busy interacting with Killian to notice me much. And at least the rumors about me being a yeti would disappear after this outing.

  Killian held the door open; Mir walked in, and I followed. Killian put his hand at my back, the touch warm, and moved inside with me, matching my pace half a step behind.

  The interior was dimly lit, with lots of small tables. Three giant TVs hung from walls, each one showing a different sport, although the sound was muted. A pool table occupied one corner, along with a dartboard and a jukebox. In the area opposite the main entrance was a raised stage, big enough for about four to five people to stand and sing, with a drum set in the back.

  A middle-aged man in an unbuttoned flannel shirt over a white undershirt and jeans was belting out “We Are the Champions.” Given the accompaniment from the speakers, he was butchering the melody, but nobody seemed to care, since a lot of the patrons were singing along with him.

  People in the bar were dressed just as casually as the singer, so that made me overdressed. So was Mir. I should’ve known better than to believe her. Sam’s Brew was a bar in a small town with casual folks.

  I leaned over to her. “Dress code?”

  “Maybe things have changed since last time I was here.” She shot me a shameless grin.

  I snorted, then decided it didn’t matter. She’d probably just wanted to dress up with me, and that was fine. I could use dressing like a normal, responsible adult once in a while. Besides, it had been worth it to knock Killian’s socks off. That was an ego booster.

  “Hey, Killian! And Mir! I didn’t think you’d come!” someone said in a loud, growly voice.

  “Here to have fun with a friend.” Killian tilted his head my way.

  “Oh?” The man’s eyes widened as he checked me out thoroughly. “Who’s this?”

  “Emily. My next-door neighbor.”

  The man looked like he’d just gotten sucker-punched. “No way. I mean… Yeah. I just… Huh.”

  I almost laughed. If he’d seen me around town before, no wonder he couldn’t recognize me. “Nice to meet you,” I said, extending a hand.

  “Yeah. I’m Bob. Pleasure.” He held my hand like it was made of glass, then let go slowly.

  “So, Eric’s in a great mood today?” Mir said, glancing toward the singer.

  “Yeah.” Bob grunted. “His team is playing, and this is his good-luck song. He said they win every time he sings it.” He looked at the stage ruminatively. “Practice ain’t made him any better, though.”

  “It’s an improvement from what I remember,” Mir said, then went to get a table as its occupants left.

  “There’s no waiting list or anything?” I asked.

  “Nope. First grabbed, first served,” Killian said, leading me over.

  Eric struck a triumphant pose, one fist in the air, as he sang the last note. “To victory!”

  Everyone clapped as we sat down. A waitress came by and cleared the table. “Hey, guys. Want something to drink?” she asked.

  “Hop Hop Hooray raspberry, if you have it,” I said.

  “Two,” Killian said.

  “Three. And Sue, you know I want one of each appetizer.”

  “Smart,” Sue said with a grin. “You always know how to have fun, Mir.”

  Mir laughed. “What’s life without fun?”

  After Sue left, I turned to Mir. “You know everybody.”

  “Kingstree’s a small town. Killian knows everyone, too.” That made me pause for a second, but it made sense. He’d said he grew up here, and when he heard my characters’ names, he’d made connections to actual people in town.

  I saw Sunny get on stage and grab the mike, which was a little weird. The supermarket owner always seemed so proper. On the other hand, I guessed this was how she had fun and blew off steam.

  “You know, it’s downright unfair of me to sing when we have our own homegrown rock star here. I didn’t know he’d be out on the town tonight,” Sunny said with a small laugh.

  I gave her a look of sympathy even though she probably didn’t see it from the stage. I imagined that vocals were touched up in the studio to make them sound better than in real life. But if Killian sang live even half as well as his recordings, it was going to be a tough comparison for Sunny.

  “Nobody cares. It’s not an audition,” somebody called out.

  “Then why don’t you come up here with me, Calvin?” Sunny said.

  “You know I flunked music.”

  “Flunked? You didn’t even take the class!”

  “What were you gonna sing?” Mir called out.

  “‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’”

  “Two Queen songs back to back?” Mir said.

  “I sing better than Eric,” Sunny said with a wink. “But I don’t sing better than Killian.”

  “Let’s get our rock star up on stage.”

  As though in agreement, the people started to chant Killian’s name. I clapped to the beat of their chant, smiling at the crowd’s eager reaction. It was inevitable they wanted him on the stage. What was that 911 dispatcher had said? Right. Free concert. And given how small the town was, they didn’t often have a big star show for a concert, free or otherwise.

  Killian took a sip of his water. “You wanna go up there with me?” he asked me.

  “Ha! And embarrass myself? I don’t know this song well enough to sing. Besides, I don’t do music, remember?”

  He pursed his lips. Before he could find a way to drag me up there with him anyway, I quickly added, “But I won’t mind it if you go up there and wow me.”

  “Well. If you insist.” He stood with an easy grin, his eyes on mine.

  And for some reason, it felt like he was doing this for me—
to wow me like I’d asked him to. My cheeks warmed.

  The people hooted and shouted encouragement.

  Killian held up his arms. “All right, all right, you cattle wranglers! Let’s be civilized here,” he said, then hopped on stage.

  Sunny gave him the mike, her shoulders relaxed now. “Good. I would’ve hated it if I had to sing in front of you.”

  “Do ‘Nowhere’!” somebody said from behind me.

  “The machine won’t let you cancel a song about to start,” the bartender said. “But you can erase the rest of the entry and put that one in for next.” Then he turned to Killian. “You ready?”

  “Yup.”

  Sue came back with three beers. “Hot damn. We’re in for a treat,” she said, her eyes on the stage.

  I took my drink and watched Killian get ready. I’d never been to a concert—or a karaoke night—so I had no idea what to expect. But even I could tell Killian somehow already owned not only the stage but the whole bar. He just commanded attention, his bright blue gaze shining on everyone there to see him perform.

  He began singing, his voice slightly husky. Unlike Eric, who’d been loud but not necessarily good, Killian was hitting the notes, and there was a charge to the way he sang—a power that made your nerve endings come alive and your blood to pulse a little faster in your veins.

  When he reached the chorus, everyone was singing with him. He even pointed the mike at the crowd, which had gone crazy. Since I didn’t know the words, I merely clapped and enjoyed the show.

  The last note died, and the crowd erupted. “‘Nowhere’! ‘Nowhere’!” they shouted in unison.

  I laughed at their reaction. I’d expected “bravo” or “encore,” not “‘Nowhere.’” They must be eager for more. And to be honest, I was too. I wanted to see him sing his own song.

  “Come on, Killian! ‘Nowhere’!” the bartender shouted.

  Killian laughed, his eyes bright and full of joy, then he nodded.

  An elaborate guitar and drum started, and he belted out the song I’d heard only a couple of times on YouTube.

  Hearing the recording—even with the music video—was nothing like watching him sing live. There was a raw power and charge to his voice that no recording equipment could capture. And it flowed out over the crowd—over me—unrestrained. He was a musician, a hypnotist, and I couldn’t look away. He shone like a supernova as he performed for the small crowd in a small bar in small town, Virginia. It felt like he was singing only for me, his eyes only on me, and I finally understood why rock stars were called rock stars.

  Everyone, including me, got to their feet and swayed to the music. It was as though in this moment, nothing else existed. My heart pounded, my body hot. All thought seemed to have vanished except for the joy his music was pouring into me at the moment.

  Our eyes met, and an electric jolt went through me. And with that came an understanding and admiration—he was taking people away from their mundane life and making them feel alive. People were listening to him for this, this experience, just like people bought my books to escape for a while.

  Something hot and sweet and unfamiliar welled in my chest. I almost couldn’t draw in enough air, sweat misting over my skin even though all I was doing was standing and immersing myself in his mesmerizing voice.

  When the song ended, the crowd erupted again. Killian grinned at them, then at me, his eyes bright.

  The excitement from his performance still sizzled through me. I smiled at him, wanting him to see how his music affected me.

  Somebody handed Killian a glass of water and a piece of paper. He took a sip, then read it. His eyebrows quirked up, and I wondered what it said. Better not be a phone number.

  Whoa, wait. Where did that hot, angry thought come from? We weren’t dating, were we? Just because we’d spent a lot of time together recently and he’d helped me with a snake didn’t mean…

  But that searing, ugly feeling was definitely jealousy.

  Before I could think about my reaction, Killian said, “Okay, so apparently today is Sam and Fiona’s anniversary.”

  “Yeah, Sam and Fiona!” came a shout.

  “Congrats!”

  One person started clapping, and everyone joined in.

  Mir leaned over and indicated a beaming couple sitting a few tables away. They waved to the crowd.

  “And he’d like to dedicate a song to his wife,” Killian added when the crowd quieted down some. “Now this is the last song I’m doing, ’cause I’m starting to get hungry.”

  Everyone laughed.

  We sat down. And a mellow melody I didn’t recognize started. I tapped Mir’s shoulder. “What’s this one?”

  She looked at me like I’d come from Mars. “How can you not know this? It’s ‘Wonderful Tonight.’”

  “I don’t do music that much,” I said.

  “Ever hear of Eric Clapton?”

  I thought. “The name kind of does ring a bell, but…”

  Mir continued to stare, but then Killian began singing a slow love song. It surprised me that he handled it so well, because he was in a rock band, and I assumed a rocker wouldn’t be able to sing something like this. But his voice was so full of intimate longing that it sent the same kind of longing through me. Okay, now I totally understood why women fell for rock stars and dressed as skimpily as possible and exercised nine hundred hours a day while eating two leaves of lettuce.

  Because if I had a chance with a man who sang like Killian and made me feel like this, I would do the same.

  When the song ended, the cheering and clapping were deafening. Killian took a bow and blew kisses, basking in the moment.

  Suddenly, he turned and looked directly at me, a boyish grin on his lips. In the midst of the tumult, my heart galloped harder and I swore I could hear it thudding, even over the crowd. If I were more fanciful, I might’ve thought it was the sound of myself tumbling into a major crush.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Killian

  I jumped off the stage and made my way back to the table, the performance high still rushing through me. Being on the stage and having a crowd go wild was always a rush. During that moment we were one, connected to each other through the magic of music.

  The appetizers Mir ordered had just come out—Sue probably delayed them a little out of consideration for me.

  Mir high-fived me. “Still got the power, bro!” she said.

  “Thanks.” Sitting down, I glanced at Emily. She’d said she didn’t do music, but it looked like she was having fun. I’d been able to see her smile from the stage, but she could’ve done that to be polite. She was the only woman I knew who considered my drumming “noise pollution.”

  “So. Did you have fun?” I asked, trying to sound careless.

  She lifted her chin and gazed at me. “Amazing,” she said. “You were amazing.”

  The light in her green eyes was electric. My mind got wiped clean of every thought except one—she is so beautiful. Beautiful wasn’t enough—she was brilliant. I wanted to freeze the moment, etch her like this in my memory forever.

  I wanted to kiss her and see her look at me with that same shining light. And dance with her all night, our hands linked, fingers threading fingers until our hearts galloped in unison and we were both breathless, our blood rushing fast and hot.

  Emily flushed, but didn’t look away.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s Yve! I gotta go say hi,” Mir squealed. The smile on Emily’s face shifted to a curious look, and the moment broke.

  Thanks, Mir. That was twice she’d broken the mood.

  My sister jumped up and ran to see her best friend from high school. They hugged and hopped around like overexcited teenagers, looking like they were planning a sleepover. Which might work out better, since that’d leave me and Emily alone until at least tomorrow.

  I pushed the chicken wings toward Emily. “This isn’t much of a dinner. If you want, I can whip up something more substantial.” Say yes. Come over.

  “Thanks
, but I don’t want to trouble you. This is fine.” She picked up a piece and delicately bit into it. “Mmm…good. I can’t believe I’ve never come here. Not bad for a quick meal.” She took a French fry.

  I guzzled down my now lukewarm beer, thirsty after singing three songs. Her rejection was disappointing, but then I should’ve known whatever moment we’d had wasn’t coming back. Next time I should bring Emily here without my baby sister to squeal like amp feedback.

  The stage stayed empty and the bartender put on some music. I munched on a few things, most of them fried. This was what happened when Mir took charge of the order. I couldn’t taste much, though. Adrenaline from the performance, no matter how short, was still sizzling in my veins, making me jittery, my senses extra sharp. And right now, everything was focused on Emily. Her presence. Her nearness. The way her hair moved when she tilted her head.

  “You know, I didn’t realize how good music could be until now,” Emily said. “I can see why you’re famous.”

  “You can hear me sing any time you want,” I said, my voice raspier than usual. I’d never sung for any of my exes privately before. They’d never asked, and I’d never offered. But for Emily, I would love to so I could watch her reaction beat by beat.

  “I wouldn’t know what to request.” She gave me a small, light smile.

  “No problem. You tell me what kind of mood you’re in, and I can pick something and sing it.”

  She wiped her fingers and dabbed at her mouth. Her gaze skimmed the area next to us where some couples were dancing. “Do you dance as well as you sing?”

  “You kidding?” I grinned, surprised and pleased. “Wanna dance?” I want to hold you.

  “Yeah. But don’t laugh at me. I’m out of practice.”

  “Just follow my lead.”

  I wiped my fingers, then took her hand as I led her to the open space where people were moving to the music, then took her into my arms. My pulse throbbed, like a kid on his first date with the girl he’d had a crush on since forever. Somehow everything was new and different with Emily. The feel of her body against mine was like nothing I’d ever experienced.