Her eyes narrow as she surveys me. “No.”
I drop my hands away from her. “You’re a monster.”
She doesn’t back down. “And you fucked a Ray on my baby’s stuffed animals while dressed as the literal devil. So…”
I bite my lip, tears of mirth stinging my eyes. Oh, this is going to be god-awful. And she’ll have only herself to blame. “Fine. Any other requests?”
She considers. “Yeah, actually, I’d love it if you could throw a little Shania in there too.”
“Late ‘90s or early 2000s?”
She puts a finger under her chin, bobbing the squirmy baby on her hip. “Hmm…late ‘90s, I think.”
“Consider it done,” I reply. Then I lean in. “And then we are never discussing this again.”
Smiling, she nods and walks past me to go find her seat.
Well…fuck. What happens when you get booed off a karaoke stage? Do you have to leave the establishment? Does your name go up on a wall of offenders inside the restaurant?
“Hey, gorgeous.”
Ryan comes up behind me, his hands brushing my shoulders. Leaning in, he kisses the back of my head, and I fight the urge to lean into him. Remembering where we are, I go stiff and pull away, turning in his arms to break our connection.
“Ryan…”
He sighs, dropping his hands away. “Seriously? Are we still pretending to be just friends? Babe, the team doesn’t care—”
“We are just friends,” I reply. “Friends who fuck to feel good. That was the rule. That was your rule,” I add, giving him a firm look.
I don’t know why I’m trying to pick a fight with him. This just feels too public. And everything is still too unsettled. I’m unsettled. I haven’t heard a word from Troy in days, but I know he’s still having me followed. I’ve had the feeling of being watched when I walk in to work, when I go to the coffee shop down the street from the bungalow. There’s a grayish-black SUV that I see around all the time.
And the last thing I want to do is hurt Ryan or involve him any deeper in my mess. He doesn’t even know about the shredded documents hiding in my closet. He doesn’t know about the harassment or the stalking. I don’t want him to know. I want us to stay in our shiny pink bubble of privacy and orgasms and feeling good.
Which is probably about to pop anyway once he hears me sing.
He searches my face, actively fighting the urge to reach out and touch me. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
I do what I do best and deflect. “The camera records. Shelby knows what we did.”
“Oh…shit.” He lets out a little laugh and glances over his shoulder to where Shelby and Josh have just taken their seats. “Umm, well, I’ll talk to them—”
“No need,” I reply with a weak smile. “She already exacted her revenge on me. It’s done.”
“Wait—revenge?” His eyes go wide. “Tess, what—”
“I have to go.”
“Tess—”
“Go find your seat,” I say, giving his hand a squeeze. “You wanted something to record to take with you to your away games, right? Well, this is as good as you’re gonna get.”
Ignoring his confused protests, I slip past him and make my way to the stage.
As it happens, belting out god-awful renditions of ‘Careless Whisper’ and ‘Any Man Of Mine’ to a generous crowd is a great way to flip that ‘fuck it’ switch. By the time I sing my last note and the crowd goes crazy, I beeline straight for Ryan, determined to get drunk.
“That was amazing,” he calls, waving his phone. “I got it all recorded.”
I just roll my eyes. Of course, he finds my utter lack of singing talent charming.
“Add it to the collection,” Shelby teases from across the table.
I glare at her, hands on my hips. “Now, is that never talking about it again?”
She just laughs and mimes zipping her lips shut as she moves off to go say hi to the new arrivals.
I sit down at the picnic table between Ryan and Caleb, and Cay slides me a hard cider.
“Peach?” I say, sniffing the glass.
“Strawberry,” he replies.
“Mmm.” I take a sip, delighting in the taste. I like my beers the same way I like my desserts: sweet and fruity. And Caleb may not drink, but he’s a whizz at ordering them for me. I think he used to be a bartender during his dark days.
Ryan watches us, one brow raised.
“Oh,” I say with a laugh, patting Caleb’s shoulder. “It’s our weird friend thing. Mars and I have sea turtles, Cay and I have fruity beer, and Jake and I are actually friends.”