Play With Me

caught my
stunned face and offered me her compassion with a sheepish shrug. She skirted
her brother and engaged me in a conversation that didn’t give me much time to
breathe. Not quite what I wanted to do now when Hunter’s taste in my mouth was
all I could think about. But that woman was insatiable. She wanted to know
everything about me, even what I liked for breakfast.
    “She’s the devil
in disguise, hunting for potential in-laws. Don’t let her make you sign
anything,” Ryan said over my shoulder, and I caught the spark in his eyes as he
reminded me of the marriage license his parents seemed to request from any
female visitors to their beach house. I shuddered but laughed when Rachel
slapped him on the shoulder for that remark.
    “Let me save you
from the Spanish inquisition.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me off the bar stool
and giving me no chance to object. But then, everything was fine with me as
long as I didn’t have to answer more questions. Or so I though until I realized
where exactly Hunter was dragging me.
    “You’re kidding,
right?” I resisted against his pull and made him stop just in front of the
stage.
    He smirked over
his shoulder. “Nope.”
    My hands started
to shake as he ushered me up the steps. He released me to talk to the guy
behind the mixing desk. The song filling the bar stopped, the silence eerily frightening.
I broke into a panic, sweat dotting my brow. Mouth dry and throat tight, I
turned around and faced the crowd. The club suddenly appeared ten times bigger
than when we had come in, with thousands more people…all staring at me.
    Oh. My. God.
    No way in hell
was I going to sing in front of them all. Grabbing onto what remained of my sanity,
my gaze darted to the stairs, and I started toward them. But Ryan’s arms caught
me around the waist, and he dragged me to the microphone. Paralyzed, I couldn’t
even fight him.
    “You’re so going
to pay for this,” I hissed, feeling the rattle of my bones.
    He laughed into
my ear, enjoying himself. “You can hate me later. Now, we sing.”
    The music set off
with a stomping beat. I recognized the melody immediately, slightly relieved I
knew this remix of the old song by heart. A few seconds into the melody, Ryan
blared into the mike, “Almost heaven…West Virginia…”
    I—didn’t.
    I just stood there
poker stiff and gaped at him, not believing he really did this to me. I wanted
to kick him, slap him, shout at him, and I was sure he read it all in my horrified
face. But what did he do? Held the mike in front of my lips. I had no choice
but to sing ‘Country Roads’ with him if I didn’t want to end up a complete
idiot in front of the crowd. So…I sang.
    My voiced boomed
from the speakers overhead. Granted, it didn’t sound all that bad. Ryan’s grin
spread wider as he kept singing the lines with me. And I found I could keep my
voice steady and walk through the text as long as I focused on his encouraging
eyes. When the song picked up pace, I even felt a grin on my lips. Weird, but
with the seconds ticking by, and me not screwing up, I started to enjoy it.
    Not long, and
the crowd was singing with us.
    From the cool
way Ryan handled this, moving his body lightly with the rhythm, stomping his
heel, I wondered how many times he’d been standing up here in the past. Damn,
he looked incredibly sexy as he sang and danced to the music.
    Suddenly, he
left me alone with the microphone. My newfound courage dropped to the ground in
a second, together with my stomach. I followed him with my eyes as he moved
behind me and I continued with the song. Taking my hands, he raised them above
my head and clapped them to the beat. The crowd followed suit, singing and
cheering us on. It was amazing.
    The warmth of his
body pressed against my back gave me the feeling of safety again. I heard his
voice in my ear as he sang with me, but the rest of the club would only hear
me. I still hated him. But I had to admit it was fun all the same. And I
smiled.
    Finally, the
song was over. I struggled to breathe even and rubbed the sweat off my
forehead. Whistles and shouts prompted us to perform another song.
    Ryan flashed a
tempting grin. “What do you think?”
    “I think I’m
going to kill you.” I laughed. “No way are we doing this again.” This time I gave
him no choice. I grabbed his hand and pulled him off the stage with me.
    Rachel had
joined her husband behind the bar, his arms wrapped around her waist as both
watched us