Saylor would have loved this, laughing his ass off at the cringy lines.
After what feels like an hour, I make my way to Lio with an apple juice, having noticed he’s looking a little droopy. His eyes light up when he sees me, and North, standing behind him with a hand on Lio’s shoulder, looks at me with a mixture of emotionand longing that makes my heart race and me run back to the kitchen.
Too much to unpack there for the evening.
The moderator, who has been talking between the performances, takes the stage again and announces that the last participant is about to speak. I can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that it’s already over. It was fun, something else, and I understand why Nash likes to go to these things so much.
I stand near the kitchen with my arms crossed, watching the speaker talk as Mac suddenly grabs my shoulders and gently pushes me toward the stage.
“What are you doing?” I hiss at him in protest, but he smiles and ignores me, walking us in front of the stage, where Tim is waiting with an empty chair. Mac pushes me to sit on it, placed front and center.
Oh my God.
Anxiety courses through me as I realize that all eyes are on me now. I’m not used to being the center of attention, and I’m ready to bolt. But before I can move, Tim leans in and whispers in my ear, “Don’t you dare. I’ll come after you and drag you back here. Nash worked his ass off for this, and the least you can do is listen.”
I look at Tim with wide eyes, and he winks before positioning himself behind me, ready to pull me back if I attempt to escape.
The moderator chuckles from the stage, having watched my struggle. “Now, let’s welcome the person responsible for tonight’s event. We all know him. We all love him, some more than the others…” he winks, and some of the women in the back start to giggle, making my stomach clench, “… but we have never heard his words before since he played coy. Not anymore! He has something to say, so please welcome Nash Jones, everybody.”
Nash emerges from the crowd, making his way to the small stage as everybody starts to clap, everybody but me, too perplexed to do anything but gape at him. He looks as handsome as ever in his black jeans and a dark red sweater, his eyes locking onto mine the moment he steps in front of me on the stage. My hands grip the side of the chair tightly as a slight tremor washes over my body.
What is happening?
Nash clears his throat, his gaze never leaving mine, and he begins, his voice and hands a little shaky on the microphone. “Thank you all for being here tonight, for making the long trip from the city to our little town. Like I told you guys, I need to tell the woman of my dreams something, the woman sitting in front of me right now. I need to scream it from the rooftops if I’m honest. But since that’s not my style…” Tim and some others chuckle behind me, and Nash’s voice is warm and filled with emotion as he continues, “I wrote these words for her, and tonight, I want to share them with all of you. So everybody knows. Especiallyher.”
As Nash begins, his voice is firm again, but I can hear the raw emotion. It’s as if he’s baring his soul, and his eyes never leave mine.
„You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,
Played enough poker to recognize a queen.
You’ve glimpsed heaven without dying, tamed Satan without trying,
In your presence, my heart’s flying, defying.
As your hero, I'll don the cape, Prince Charming to the rescue,
But what you haven't grasped, it's my heart you've quietly withdrew.
Words escape me now, a surprise for one so word-wise,
With verbs, nouns, and similes, I usually devise.
What's happening, I can't surmise.
Yet, by your side, my eloquence dies.
It's likely true, if I share my heart, you'll think I've lost my head,
How can I explain this to a woman I’ve just met?
I don’t know if it’s your coconut skin, or the way you carry yourself with such style and grace,
or that smile. That smile can light up the darkest of days.
I was a charmer, playing hearts like a card,
But now I’m a ship, anchored, no longer sailing far.
