She opens her mouth, and fuck me backwards, the pair of lungs on her… She’s a born singer. Hearing her live makes the videos seem like nothing. Her voice is the type that sends tingles down your spine, as though Ann Wilson and Sheena Easton hada baby. She’s perfect for power ballads like this one, like she could hold her own in a duet with Meat Loaf. The whole place goes silent and stunned as she effortlessly rings out the first few lines.
She has fun with it as well, grinning and winking at us and our open mouths as she belts out the first chorus like she’s live at Wembley Stadium. Other punters actually walk over from the bar with their drinks orders to watch the pretty lady sing.
I watch John stare at her, grinning slowly. This is a far cry from his bread and butter punter who wailsHolidayby Madonna out of key. The evening has very obviously started at the top of the talent pile. She’s even better thanme, for god’s sake. Talent, presence…no wonder Dean is so into her.
And from the looks of it, John is, too. He’s definitely going to ask her to come to other nights he runs, and I’d bet money he’s going to ask her out before the evening’s over. I sigh inwardly. I’m obviously going to have my work cut out for me as Dean’s proxy, cock blocking John on his behalf without overstepping.
Or, I think as I gape at the scruffy man who’s walking towards us with a pint in his trembling hand,maybe not…
Dean sits next to me as casually as he can manage, placing a beer mat under his glass, and turning all of his focus onto Liaden as she sings. He’s pretending nonchalance, spoiled slightly by being a bit out of breath, and there’s a very fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. But he’s here. He’s fuckinghere.
Holy shit, the sonofabitch actually did it.
I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face, and when I look at the others, we’re all wearing pretty identical expressions of delighted disbelief.
I’m about to sling an arm around his shoulder for a bro hug when I see the eye lock going on between him and Liaden.Oosh.Did I say eye lock? More like eyefucking, actually. To her credit, she didn’t skip a beat, didn’t so much as stumble over thelyrics as Dean sat down, but she’s not blinking. The sexy tension between them pulses like a heartbeat as she treats him to a slow smile full of heated promise.
And then the second chorus begins, and apparently Liaden was holding back before, because she kicks it up a notch and belts out the rest of the lyrics as though she’s singing directly to Dean. And it hits me: that’s exactly what sheisdoing. She’s straight up asking him how she can get him alone…
Her voice takes on the staggering quality of a career best performance, and Dean sits wide eyed, mesmerised by her performance as Sadie and I both stand and cheer. With a wicked smile, Liaden finishes the song and hands the mic back to John without looking at him. Keeping her eyes on Dean, she sits the other side of him, and they look and look at each other as though they can’t believe the other is actually real.
It gives me chills.
There is honestly nothing I wouldn’t do in order to nudge them together if I can. Not a damn thing.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Liaden
He’s here.
He’s sitting right next to me.
And that’s where he stays while we all drink and talk and cheer on strangers singing Spandau Ballet and The Human League. He contributes to the conversation here and there, and sips his beer slowly instead of chugging it. In fact, all his movements are careful, almost economical, as though he’s under rigid control. But the way he looks at me, warm and intent and focused, is wilder. It tears into me and pulls out great handfuls of new feelings, knowing he’s pushing through his anxieties to be here. I’m not unaware of how momentous that is. And if I was in any doubt, the looks the Wishbone gang are giving each other when they think I’m not looking speak volumes.
And, as exciting and immensely flattering his presence is, it’s also somehow very grounding to have him sitting within touching distance from me. A missing piece of this evening’s puzzle is back in place, and now I fit, too. Now I belong.
I feel like everyone else has been white noise throughout my life, but Dean is tuned into a frequency I can hear.
Sadie has to pull on my arm to get me to join her and Emily so the three of us can performThe Edge of Seventeenin honour of Queen Stevie, but even then, during girl time, my eyes keep wandering back to him. To his rumpled clothes and untidy mop of hair and hesitant smile. I turn it on a little but as I sing, wanting to impress him without obnoxiously outshining the girls. Emily unabashedly can’t sing, hardly a note hitting the right key, but simply enjoys herself in a way that can’t be anything but endearing. Sadie has a husky come-to-bed voice, and - hello - draws soft looks from Leo.
Makes total sense. They fit. I wonder if she’s aware of his feelings for her? In fairness, I’ve only just noticed myself, and he is remarkably adept at smothering his expressions.
Once my first ever Squad Goals Moment is over, I sit next to Dean again, wishing I could think of a valid reason to take his hand in mine without pushing things too far. He has the long, nimble fingers of a guitar player or pianist, and I shift in my seat as thoughts of those fingers on my skin - trailing lightly, clutching, scratching, smoothing - tear through my head, making me hot and flushed. I bite my lip as I feel the gentle electric shocks of arousal thrum through me.
My daydream is mercifully interrupted by Leo getting up and having a word with the host, whose name escapes me. In a few seconds the unmistakable intro bars ofMan in Motionby John Parr fills the bar. Leo has an excellent singing voice, rich and deep and ninety nine percent note perfect.
But that makes up only half of his performance.
I suddenly understand why the host was so reluctant to let Leo take part, and why Leo gave him a fistful of cash upfront to offset against any damages.
He doesn’t justsingthe song. He gives it everything he has, standing on chairs until they tip, dancing like he’s the bastard son of Joey Tribbiani and Johnny Castle, lying on tables and slithering up them on his back, making everyone hurry to move their drinks. Sadie films his escapades on her mobile, heckling him and cheering him on along with most of the other punters. He kisses Emily’s cheek as he passes her, and she can’t stop laughing. The whole scene is so funny that even Dean is laughing next to me…and oh, my, that’s a wonderful sight indeed. So wonderful that when Leo passes me, I crook my finger at him until we can share the mic and I can sing a few lines with him, making us both laugh. Dean suddenly stands next to me and air guitars like Hendrix, nimble fingers dancing as his face contorts in mock concentration.He’s joining in, as best he can, and he grins like a man with no worries in the world. Leo points at him, announcing in the mic that “The air guitar champion of the world has arrived”, and applauds him, a smattering of other punters joining in. Leo and I high five, and then he’s continuing the song himself, standing on another table…
…which collapses under him with a loud splintering noise, sending him clattering to the floor.
There are some gasps of alarm, and Eli rushes over to check on him, but he quickly rolls his eyes as Leo sits up like Michael Myers, resuming the song without so much as a wince of pain. The host counts out the bank notes he was given earlier with a forlorn sigh.
Leo is given a rolling thunder of applause for his efforts, which he receives with a bow and a happy grin. He doesn’t need much persuasion from us and the other punters to pick up the mic again a few songs later, after some singers of varying qualities have had their turn.
