Carolina looks a lot more comfortable than I am. Her John Travolta/Danny Zuko costume includes black jeans and a black top with cutoff sleeves. A black “greaser” wig completes the outfit, along with a sweater folded across the back of her chair.
She reaches to itch her head under the wig. “I hope we’re up next. I’m losing my lady boner for this.”
I nearly choke on my water. “Lady boner?”
Carolina wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah. You didn’t know women get excited about things like guys do? Hence the termlady boner.”
“Carolina Saber and Rand Kestrel,” Darby Daire announces from the stage. “Our final karaoke couple of the night.”
“Shit,” I reach for my ankle-killing high heels. I didn’t ask questions when Maybelle Sugarbiscuits gave me red slides in a man’s size fifteen. When you’re a headliner at the area’s most famous drag bar, you can get pretty much whatever you want to be made.
Carolina slips on a letterman’s sweater and hands me a leather jacket. “Showtime,Sandy.”
When we get to the stage, Carolina tells Darby our song. A huge grin spreads across the emcee’s face. She hands us two microphones and cues up our selection.
“You ready?” I whisper as we get into place.
Carolina grins back at me.
The opening strains of “You’re the One That I Want” fromGreaserock the speakers. The crowd, fully lubricated with adult beverages, begins hooting and clapping.
Carolina starts with the John Travolta part, singing about losing control as she strips off her letterman’s sweater and falls on the ground at my feet. I nearly forget what I’m supposed to do next. She winks at me, and I get my shit together.
We practiced the song so many times this afternoon. I don’t need to look at the lyrics on the karaoke monitor. By the time we hit the song’s midpoint, dancing together, the crowd is on their feet, singing along with us. When we finish, there’s a brief moment where everyone is silent. Then they erupt into a raucous standing ovation.
Maybe there’s something to be said about going last in a karaoke contest?
I look down at the judges. None of them are smiling at us. Shit. I thought we knocked it out of the park. A proverbial mic-drop, not that I’d drop Darby’s expensive equipment, but that doesn’t mean I’m not mentally dropping the mic and doing a celebratory dance.
Carolina and I are both panting as we run off stage. Carolina stops, jumps into my arms, and wraps her legs around my waist.
“That was AWESOME!” She peppers kisses all over my face.
Dick thinks Carolina being in my arms isfan-fucking-tasticand stands up to salute her initiative. I’m about to drag her upstairs where I can peel us both out of our costumes when Darby calls us back to the stage, along with the two serious competitors.
“Let’s give another hand to our three finalists!” Darby announces.
There’s clapping, whistling, and some people even call out our names in solidarity.
Mara hands Darby an envelope. Darby cues up a drumroll.
“Our second-place winner is,” Darby opens the envelope. It’s the Tequila Guys. They wave to the crowd and leave the stage with a gift certificate to a local steakhouse.
“I know the judges had a tough time picking a winner,” Darby stares at the judges’ table. For a second, it looks like she forgets what she is going to say, but she shakes her head and waves the envelope. “But, there can be only one.”
My fellow nerds laugh at herHighlanderreference.
Darby looks at the name on the paper. “It seems that we not only have a karaoke couple winner but the King and Queen of the reunion, too! And they are - Carolina Saber and Rand Kestrel!”
The applause is deafening. Carolina hops up and down, clapping as Darby puts a tiara on Carolina’s head and attempts to put a crown on mine. My blond Sandy wig is getting in the way, so I yank it off and pop the crown in its place.
There’s laughter and clinking glasses. But everything disappears as Carolina turns and grabs my shirt, right above myfoobs. She pulls me down to a blistering NC-17 kiss, causing the chicken cutlet things to fall out of my bra. I can’t find it in me to care when Carolina grabs my ass. That elicits hoots and whistles from her rowdy classmates.
It’s almost enough to make me blush.
Almost.
“Carolina,” I growl as we pull apart.