I turned around quickly at the sound of the deep voice behind me.
“What are you doing?” The words slipped out as I stared into a set of brown eyes. He tipped a beer bottle up to his lips and grinned as he pulled it away. And that hair. The top of his head was covered with messy blond strands that were slightly curly and slightly straight—like they couldn’t make up their mind.
“Well, I saw this lost kitten, sitting all alone, and I thought I would buy it a drink.” His face lit up with his flirting. I saw how it probably worked on most girls.
“So what are you dressed as tonight? A drunk cowboy?”
“A cowboy, maybe, but I’m not drunk.”
“Not yet, anyway.” I didn’t just say that.
“No, I only have one before I go on stage. Helps loosen up the nerves.”
My eyes trailed over his pearl-snap shirt. It was untucked over a pair of really tight jeans and brown cowboy boots. “So you’re a singer?”
“Yeah.” He took another swig of his beer.
I studied him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was telling me the truth. “If you’re a famous singer, what’s your name?”
“I’m not exactly famous. Well, not yet, anyway. But my friends call me Lucky.”
Lucky? “So we just met and I’m already upgraded to friend status?”
He chuckled. “If you want to be friends, we can be friends. But that wasn’t exactly what I was thinking when I bought you that drink.”
A nervous jolt went through me, hearing his pointed remark. I glanced down at my hand, which held the cup that I had yet to even sip. Lifting it up, I took a small drink before letting my eyes drift back up to his. “Are you always this self-assured?”
“Yes. Most of the time.”
I laughed at the sincere look that followed his little comeback. He was cute and sexy. And I assumed this singer was used to girls thinking those exact same thoughts. The room was full of them, which is why I couldnt figure out why he had picked me. The girl hiding in the corner, minding her own business.
Lucky glanced at the clock above the bar. “Hey, I gotta go. But you should come over by the stage. I’m up next.”
As far as I knew, this was his usual game. Hit on a girl before the show. Hook her with his sexy songs. Have her waiting for a quickie afterward.
“I think I’ll just stay here, but thanks for the drink.”
His brown eyes flashed something with my rejection, but he quickly covered it up with that flirty humor. “Well, I guess I was trying to save a kitten that didn’t want to be saved.”
“It’s Katie.” I shocked myself as I blurted out my name.
That lazy grin reappeared, causing the left side of his lip to turn up a little bit more than the other. My face flushed with the attraction that seeped slowly under my skin. I seriously wasn’t falling for this act from some wannabe country singer.
“It was nice to meet you, Katie.” He held my gaze for a second longer before turning around and disappearing into the crowd.
I swallowed hard. What just happened?
“Are you freaking kidding me? I leave you alone for ten minutes and you find that?” Peyton came over beside me at the bar. Her bright-red lipstick was slightly smeared on the edges.
“You got a little on the side.” I pointed to the edge of my own lips.
“Damn.” Her French manicure glistened under the lights as she rubbed her face. “It’s supposed to be like sixteen-hour shit.”
“You got it.”
“Okay, good.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “So who were you talking to? Because that was about the cutest thing I’ve seen all night and I just let a sexy pirate touch my boobs.”
I took another sip of my drink. It burned. I should have gotten a beer, but cosmos always looked so fun when I saw girls drinking them on TV. Jumping off the barstool, I left the cup on the wooden counter. “Well, he claims to be some guy who’s singing tonight. Said his name is Lucky.”
“Whoa. Aren’t you lucky?” Her eyes got big with excitement. “So is he really a singer?”
“That’s what he said. He’s supposed to be up next.”
Peyton grabbed my hand before I had a chance to say another word. She pulled me through the crowd of people and over to the stage. The dance floor covered most of the area directly in front, but the sides had a few pub tables. We wormed our way around a girl with a low-cut sparkly devil suit to a place in the back corner. The current band was still playing as we took our seats.
The song ended, and people were clapping loud as a guy stepped up to the mic. “Did y’all like The Rawhide Wranglers?”
People screamed around us, including Peyton.
“Well, thank y’all for coming out tonight to our annual Halloween bash. I hope everyone is having a good time!” The crowd came alive again. “All right. Let’s get our next act up here. This guy is a Dusty’s favorite. Let’s hear it for our hometown boy. The one. The only. The Landon Eeeevaaaaans . . .”
And then I saw him. He came up the side steps and onto the stage, carrying his guitar. People were cheering as Lucky stopped in the center. He smiled big and bright, taking in the room. The charisma I experienced at the bar was only a small slice of what I saw coming from the stage.
His fingers moved fast over the strings, and then the band kicked in around him. Lucky stepped up to the mic and his voice came out like deep velvet.
I was mesmerized.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him. It was magical, like watching a star shoot through the sky. He owned the stage. He owned the crowd, pulling each person into the show.
“Um, Katie.” Peyton yelled over the music. “This guy is killing it.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, glancing over in her direction before turning my full attention back to the stage. As Lucky’s voice filled the room over the speakers, I saw the obvious happiness on his face. A cocky guy like him must love all these people watching the singer.
And then he looked over at our table, staring right at me. I sucked in a quick breath like I had been caught doing something bad. A lazy grin appeared on his face, the same one he had used on me at the bar. The left side of his lip turned up a bit, and he winked.
He was trying to flirt across a room full of people. I’m sure half the other girls thought it was for them. And then he turned and went to the other side of the stage—I’m sure to wink at them too.
As he finished the song, the crowd cheered. Lucky paused at the mic, catching his breath. “Thank y’all for having me tonight. I’m usually just a guy with a guitar when I play here. But tonight some of the guys from The Wranglers are helping me out ’cause I know y’all want to party.”
The room cheered at his words. “All right. This is one of my old favorites. And I wanna hear y’all singing. Don’t act like y’all don’t know the words.”
He played the intro to Friends in Low Places on his guitar. I smiled as his voice filled the room again. He was good at this. Performing. Working the crowd. And his voice. I think it was laced with country magic. I’d watched enough of those singing reality shows with Peyton to understand the “it” factor. Lucky was the whole package.
Couples danced around on the floor and people at the pub tables started singing along. I found myself singing with him too. Peyton looked over at me and giggled. “I may fight you for him.”
I rolled my eyes as the song ended. Lucky pulled a stool out to the front of the stage. The lights dimmed a bit over the floor as he strummed his guitar for a slow one.
“This one goes out to my mama. She doesn’t always get to see me play, but she’s here tonight.” His eyes drifted over to a table close to the stage. Amidst the room of college students, an older woman was sitting with a younger guy with dark-brown hair. She watched Lucky with a smile on her face, and then her hand reached up, brushing away a tear.
I was always the guy,
Who couldn’t stand in line.
I was cuttin’ up and cuttin’ class,
&nb
sp; Sneakin’ off to drink beer,
Down by the lake, in the sunshine.
But my mama always prayed,
For me to change my ways.
She said runnin’ wild was nice for a while,
And racing cars might feel carefree.
But don’t forget this world is temporary.
And each day that ends is one less you see.
Make sure you share a little happiness,
With everyone as you pass by.
And read your Bible each night,
Even if you don’t understand why.
And make sure you love someone,
With everything you got inside.
And if life leads to heartache,
Don’t ever be afraid to cry.
I let out a deep breath. I assumed he wrote this one. Every word coming from the speakers went like little arrows into my body, digging deeper under my skin. And as the song came to an end, his voice trailed off on the last word while he continued to strum his guitar without singing.
It was in the quiet that I saw a different guy. The change was subtle. He disappeared into someone who loved it for the music, like he had forgotten the room was full of people.
As I watched him, I felt it. A strange flutter inside my chest.
His fingers eventually came to a slow stop, but didn’t look at the audience. He held his pose for a moment and then slowly tilted his head up, giving a brief glimpse of a serious face before he broke into a grin.
And I found myself grinning too.
The band picked back up for another fast one. I watched him play for the next hour, some covers and some I’d never heard, which I assumed were his songs. But the stool never came back out on stage.
And then it was time for his last one. “Thank y’all for having me tonight. Before I go, I want you to grab someone. That pretty girl sitting next to you. Get her out on the floor. ’Cause this is a dancing one.”
Two drinks, I smiled,
As she took one from me.
I talked, she laughed,
When she touched my knee.
And as the music played,
I knew I wanted more.
So I grabbed her hand,
And pulled her out on the floor.
And I said,
Dance with me, baby,
Let’s dance all night.
I want to hold you close,
I want to feel you tonight.
You and me.
That’s all I see.
Maybe this is love,
Or maybe it’s just the whiskey.
Her eyes, her lips,
I couldn’t look away.
Her smile, her laugh,
Made me want to stay.
And as we talked,
I knew I needed more.
So I grabbed her hand,
And pulled her back on the floor.
And I said,
Dance with me, baby,
Let’s dance all night.
I want to hold you close,
I want to feel you tonight.
You and me, that’s all I see.
Maybe this is love,
Or maybe it’s just the whiskey.
Her hands, my shirt,
The way she held on tight.
Her breath, my neck,
When she whispered all right.
And under those neon lights,
I knew she wanted more.
So I grabbed her hand,
And pulled her out the door.
And I said,
Dance with me, baby,
Let’s dance all night.
I want to hold you close,
I want to feel you tonight.
You and me, that’s all I see.
Maybe this is love,
Or maybe it’s just the whiskey.
The song ended, and Lucky waved to the crowd as he left off the side stairs.
“Well?” Peyton clapped her hands wildly. “I think you should go find him.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You sure?” Her disappointment was obvious. “He’s so . . .”
“Not someone I would date.”
“I was going to say fun. Just look at him. He’s so adorable. And that voice. Ahh. I could listen to him all night and . . . into the morning.”
I glanced over to the stage where he was talking to a few people by the steps. He looked over in our direction like he knew I was watching him.
“Hey, it’s getting really crowded over here. Let’s go back to the bar.”
Peyton gave me a pouty frown. “Okay.”
We both jumped off the pub stools. Looking one last time in his direction, I couldn’t stop the curiosity from lingering inside of me. In some ways, he was larger than life, causing everything and everyone to gravitate toward him.
And on the other hand, he was just a guy.
Peyton and I made our way to the bar, but it was just as packed as the area by the dance floor. I got pushed into some guy in a Darth Vader costume, causing his beer to spill all over my foot.
“Hey!” Someone grabbed Peyton and me from behind. “Sorry we’re late.”
I started laughing as I got a good look at them. “I love it.”
Skylar and Dylan were dressed as Danny and Sandy from Grease. She looked amazing in the black spandex, but she always looked amazing in everything. My other roommate was a fashion design major and had even made costumes for the community theater.
“You order yet?” Dylan asked.
“No.” Peyton glared in the direction of the bartender who was flirting with a girl two seats down. “Apparently, I need an accidental nip-slip to get him over here. Hey, moron!”
I cringed as Peyton waved her arms around to get his attention. He gave her an annoyed look before coming over to us. Great. Now there would be a side of spit in our drinks. The thought made my stomach churn. I got a Bud Light this time. Less space at the top for him to hack in it.
When the bartender returned with our orders, I tried to hand him some cash, but he motioned behind us. “Sorry, I thought you were on his tab.”
I looked over my shoulder. Lucky was in the corner almost out of view. He was staring right at me again.
He was back.
I wasn’t sure what to do in that moment, but as he stood under the neon-light sign, something about him seemed innocent. Sweet. And at the same time, wild and crazy.
“You should go talk to him,” Peyton said next to my ear.
“I don’t know.”
“Who is that?” Skylar asked.
“Well.” Peyton got dramatic. “That would be the country singer who got all flirty with Katie and now she refuses to talk to him.”
“Oh, he’s adorable.” Skylar’s bright-red lips turned into a huge grin. “Get over there. It doesn’t hurt to talk to him. You don’t have to do anything.”
“Or you could.” Peyton’s voice rolled into a high-pitched giggle. “Come on, Katie. Be bad.”
“That’s funny. The only bad thing I’ve ever seen Katie do is eat Cheerios without milk.”
“Dylan!” I turned around, giving him a glare. “Not you too.”
All three of them started laughing, and Peyton put an arm around me. “You know we loooove our Katie.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love me. Pimp me out.”
Skylar came over in front of me. “Look, I’m serious. Just go back over there. Talk to him a little bit. You never know how this will go unless you put yourself out there.”
I shot another glance over in his direction as the curiosity got stronger. Lucky was still watching me. It was the stupid dress. He wanted the illusion. I wasn’t really the person he saw in here tonight.
But then he smiled.
The warmth of his gaze made my heart beat just a little bit faster. And then Lucky nodded his head slightly, motioning for me to come over to him.
It was a decision of a lifetime. Maybe I was being a little dramatic, but someone like Lucky was a big move for
me. My last boyfriend had been a pre-med major. He had never even set foot in Dusty’s, let alone taken the stage.
As I looked at Lucky, I thought about the sound of his voice. His deep and beautiful voice.
And then I caved.
I looked back at Peyton. “Here, take my drink. I don’t want any more alcohol if I’m going over there.”
“What! Really?” Her eyes grew wide as her voice went high-pitched again. “Hurry up before he leaves.”
Peyton practically pushed me over in his direction. I made my way to the corner where he was standing. Seeing Lucky again caused strange flutters to surface in my stomach. I felt nervous this time. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say.
I let out a deep breath as I gripped my fingers inside the palms of my hands. “So I was wrong about you.”
“What do you mean?” He leaned back against the wall, giving me a cocky stare. He was a little sweaty from the show, which caused his hair to stick to his forehead. And yet he still came off as attractive. The thought made me even more nervous.
“You’re good up there. You know, on stage.”
His eyes held mine like he was genuinely happy that I was impressed. “Thank you.”
“So do you play here a lot?”
“Some. And a few others.”
“Oh.” My eyes drifted over his lips to the open buttons on his shirt. I saw a few inches of bare skin. I looked quickly back up to his face. “So um. Do you write your own songs?”
“Yeah.” He reached out, grabbing my hand. I felt him pull my fingers from their curled death grip. He was touching me. And then Lucky smiled. “Do you want to get out of here?”
I sucked in a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if he would actually go for it, but he did and less than five minutes into our conversation. “Well, I guess he’s back.”
“What?”
“Bar guy from earlier. Who’s self-assured . . . well, most of the time.”
He laughed, tugging me by the hand so I had to take a step closer to him. My heart beat a little faster, and I got a whiff of his cologne. Leather and oranges.
“So do you?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s going to take more than a drink and a few songs for me to go home with you.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t very clear. Let me try this again.” He cleared his throat. “I’m starving ’cause I don’t eat before I sing—well, not since that disastrous show down in Austin when I threw up on stage. I get butterflies in my stomach and they don’t like food in there with them. So I usually eat after the show. Like greasy shit.”
My Lucky Days: A Novel Page 2
