“How much older than thirty?” My gaze washes over his facial features. It’s so hard to tell because of his thick beard. He doesn’t have any wrinkles. All his hair is dark, void of any gray. He’s seriously so dreamy, he could be a movie star. There’s no way he’d be older than thirty-one or thirty-two.
“I’m thirty-five.” His tone is even as he stares deeply into my eyes.
“Wow.” My head springs back as his words echo. “You don’t look that old at all.”
He runs his hands over his beard, proudly smoothing his whiskers. “Yeah, I think the beard makes it hard to tell.”
“I agree.” I marvel at how, again, I had no idea he wasfourteenyears older than me.
One of his brows takes a northerly hike. “Does it bother you I’m that old?”
“No—” I’m interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket. Nobody calls me, except for Christian, and I already talked to him today. “Excuse me.” I retrieve my phone out and glance at the screen:Lightning Round Loading…You are a finalist. Your round begins in one minute.
Oh no!
I had forgotten about my karaoke battle! I was in the holding room the whole time.
“Is everything okay?” Stallone asks.
“Yeah.” I hover my thumb over the screen, ready to put it into sleep mode, but then another message flashes on the app.
Your randomly selected genre is: Disco.
My eyebrows shoot to the ceiling.
That’s my genre!
Another message: You’re randomly selected song is: “YMCA.” Your round begins in 30 seconds.
I know that song!
Like not only do I know that song, my friends and I dressed up as The Village People for a talent show one year, and we performed that song. I know everything there is to know about that song.
I could win five hundred dollars and be the ultimate karaoke champion.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” Stallone’s voice is so kind, and the look of concern he has for me melts my heart. “You look a little flushed.”
“Yeah,” I breathe out a heavy breath. “Now that you say it, if you don’t mind, I’m feeling a little warm.” I look behind me and see a back exit. It doesn’t look like anyone’s back there. It’s more of a loading dock or something. I hate to be rude to step out for a minute, but really, I could seriously use that money. If I won that money, that means I can actually stay in Mapleton even longer, which could help me get to know Stallone even more. I jerk my thumb toward the exit. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to step out for some air.”
“Are you sure?” His gaze shifts to the back door, and I’m already sliding out of my booth. “I can come with you.”
“Nah, I just need five minutes, and I’ll be fine.” Well, actually four minutes and one second to be exact, but he doesn’t need to know I need to belt out a disco song. I beeline to the back and slide through the door right when my round starts. I toss a look over my shoulder as the door latches shut, and I belt out the healthiest “Youngman” anyone has ever heard.
This is my jam!
Not only do I know all the words, but I got the moves.
I hold the phone to my mouth, the lyrics flowing out in perfect timing. With my free arm, I flay out all the motions. I feel it in my soul that I’m going to win this round. It’s confirmed when the meter fills all the way with green and confetti falls.
I won the lightning round!
I am the champion.
I ninja kick the air, as this victory is all mine.
Wait.
What?
