Finding whatever she was looking for, she removes her eyes from mine. And for the first time, I smirk, satisfied at having shut her up.
Though I’d have preferred to use my lips instead of words. Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers. And when she’s still reeling from my sudden boldness, I nail the final hook.
“By the way, red looks good on you, Feather.”
Eleven
Ezra
“So, shall we head over to the last show for the day, guys?” Oliver speaks up, reminding us that there’s one more thing to get through before I can head home and pass out and probably wake up a week later.
Somehow, playing hockey day after day doesn’t exhaust me as much as socializing does. I love that the team organizes such important events, which bring people so much joy, especially children.
And I’m grateful and honored to be on thereceiving end of so much love and attention. But at the end of the day, I’m just human and I, too, need a breather every once in a while.
So, in all honesty, I’m ecstatic that the day is about to end. I get out of my gear in the locker room, getting ready to head over with the guys. It was fun to skate and play with the kids, but damn if these little minions ever run out of battery.
After hitting the shower, most of the guys leave. When I’m putting on a hoodie, I find a slouching Noah engrossed in his phone, waiting for me on the bench. The moment he sees me, he stands and slides his phone into his back pocket. “You ready?” he asks, and I nod.
We walk out of the locker room and towards the hall where the last event is. “What’s the next scheduled event anyway?” I question, having no clue of what I’m about to walk into.
“I hear some singer is coming,” Noah tells me.
“That’d be nice, I guess. Any idea who?”
“Not a clue.” He shrugs.
As we reach the hall, the room is filled with both guests and the staff. Seeing the guys huddled in one corner, we head over to them, tipping our heads in greeting as do they.
Everyone talks over each other in small groups, waiting for the empty stage in the front of the room to be filled. No one has any idea who the singer is, but everyone sure has speculations.
I smile and wave at a few people who look over at us, and murmur amongst each other.
I check my watch, desperate for whoever this singer is to get this over with. Annoyance creeps inside of me with each passing second, my foot tapping the floor. Then suddenly, a hush falls over the crowd as Jodi takes the mike.
“Good evening, everyone. We’re so sorry for the delay, but the wait is now over,” Jodi announces, her features tight and nervous. She’s a real hard worker. “Without further ado, let’s give it up for our entertainer of the night. Please welcome them with a huge round of applause.”
The crowd hoots, and the place rings with applause, buzzing with excitement, as they sit on the edge of their seats while we stay standing in the back. As the band sets their instruments, with a sigh, I walk over to the drink stand and pick up a can of an energy drink, wishing it were alcohol.
Gladly, the table is just a step away from where we’re standing, so I hear everything. “No way,” Seb whispers under his breath, clearly shocked.
With furrowed brows, I tilt my head to look up. A breath gets stuck in my throat as my eyes almost fall out of their sockets. Seb’s right.
No fucking way.
There she stands above us all like the fucking Goddess she is. She’s not going to do what I think she is, is she? The guys wonder the same thing. We’ve never even heard her hum before, let alone sing in front of an entire audience full of strangers.
“Good evening, everyone. I hope you had a splendid time today. I’m Kaeli Reed, and I will be the singer tonight. Enjoy!” She bursts with confidence, holding herself as if that’s where she belongs. Like behind the mic, on the stage, is where she has always been.
She shuts her eyes and sucks in a huge breath as I hold on to mine, eagerly waiting for her to begin. Her eyes open with renewed confidence and determination as she hits the first note of a famous pop song.
The buttons of her suit jacket now open, and I spy the black lace blouse she’s wearing that ends just below the swell of her breasts, her shiny, smooth skin of the stomach bare for the spectators to watch.
And hell, I’m not complaining. Not even a little bit.
When the crowd realizes that her voice is as beautiful as she is, they start to cheer and sing along. Her tone drips with honeyed smoothness, low and smoky, pulling every word into a caress, making me wonder how I’ve not heard it before,whyI’ve not heard it before.
I see her shoulders visibly relax a little when she finds the audience enjoying, telling me she was nervous getting on that stage, though with a voice like hers, she didn’t need to be.
