And now I’ll be officially going to the Odyssey with wet panties.
* * *
“Oh, Win.”Van puts her arms around me. “How awful.”
I just finished telling her why I left New York City. Like I knew she would be, Savannah was understanding and supportive. She’s a total badass in the way she moved on with her life after her ex-husband abused her, so it means the world when she says she’s proud of me.
“The way you healed was so courageous,” I tell her. “It’s always inspired me.”
“You know what’s funny?” she says to me. “Hearing about your life in Manhattan and how successful you’ve been on your own helped me immensely. Moving there at eighteen was the epitome of courageous, Win.”
I laugh. “I think it was more the epitome of clueless. I honestly didn’t know any better. If I had, I probably would have been too afraid to go.”
We’re so busy chatting that neither of us notices Declan’s taken the stage. The place is packed with wall-to-wall people. Hunter, Charly, Van, her husband Ben, and I have stools at the bar so we can chat with Callie while she works.
Declan’s got his guitar with him, and he breaks into one of my favorites right away. I forget about everyone I’m with while I tap my foot to the music and enjoy his performance.
He sings several songs in a row, and the crowd is really loud in its applause. So loud that I miss whatever Declan says next.
Charly turns to me with a big smile. “I had no idea!”
“Wait.” I feel a nervousness starting in my stomach even though I don’t know why. “What?”
Before Charly can answer me, Declan calls out into the mic, “Winter Allen, come on up here!”
Oh, shit.I turn toward Hunter. “You neglected to mention this part, Hunt.”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t put him up to this. I swear, I had no fucking clue. I thought you couldn’t sing yet because of your vocal cords.”
I can’t do much. But I sang in the shower the other day, and the pain was gone. I texted my doctor about it. He told me to go slowly but that as long as I didn’t strain, I could try again.
“I think physically I’m okay,” I tell Hunter. “Just not emotionally.”
By now, the crowd is involved. Someone’s started a chant of, “Winter, Winter,” and people are more than happy to add their voices to the mix.
“Oh, God.” I look at Charly helplessly. “I am so not ready for this.”
Savannah puts her arm around me. “Remember what we were saying about courage? Maybe this is one of those moments.”
Maybe so.
Oh, what the hell.
I step off of my stool and head toward the stage.
Declan meets me on the edge of the stage. He extends his hand and helps me up as he shoots me a mischievous grin.
I grab his mic out of his hand and say into it, “This is called manipulation, Mr. Boudreaux.”
He reaches for a second mic and hooks it up. “I prefer to call it good-natured trickery, sugar.”
I laugh as he starts strumming the guitar. My legs are shaking from the adrenaline rush of being on a stage again, and I still can’t face the crowd, so I keep my gaze focused on Declan’s hand as he strums the guitar strings.
“You know this one still, right Win?” He repeats the chords and looks over at me.
I recognize the tune right away. It’s an old country song, one Declan and I used to sing together way back in high school.
“Yes, I still know it.” I grip the mic like it’s a lifeline. “Ready when you are.”
