“I’m not sad, I’m brooding.” I say, voice monotone.
“No, you’re pining over a certain writer that you should go dance with.”
“My love is right. Go sing with her!” Phin retorts, plopping himself down onto his boyfriend's knee. Both arms slide around his neck as they embrace.
I twist slightly in my seat, side eyeing them both. “No fair Dads, stop ganging up on me.”
I’m very aware I am sulking, I just can’t figure out whether it’s worth diving straight in, ignoring that she might be flirting with another guy, and that she could crush my very fragile heart into tiny pieces.
Willow is now on stage, swaying her hips with Lily and waving her glass in the air. Right there, is proof of how one woman can completely destroy my trust. It was meant to be sex just one time, but with girls like Willow it never ends there. I was just a prime meal ticket for her to get opportunities.
A hot, uncomfortable flare creeps up my neck and I shift in my seat. A polished shoe jabs me right in the thigh and I croak, glaring at Phoenix who has his head resting against the top of Merle’s head.
“You’re spiraling.”
“If you didn’t know already, I’m stressed.” I hiss, clutching my thigh which now has a dull ache. I shoot him a knowing look and like the annoying little shit he is, he fucking winks at me. As my face turns feral, one hand unattaching from my thigh and lifting to grab his shirt, a soothing, rich voice floats over to us. It resonates within me, casting a spell like warm clarity. I've heard it before, it's familiarity blanketing me. I think, no—I know I’ll always remember this moment.
The girls all stand on the rugged area, hips swaying along with the guys playing, and Lily is doing a fairly decent job not to butcher the pop song. As if suddenly bored, she abruptly stops singing and lifts her hand with the microphone into the air. The gold material of her dress swishes to exit the stage, depositing the microphone into the waiting hand of a tiny, darkhaired goddess in a sheer flowing gown and my blazer jacket. The moment she lifts it to her lips, my brain scrambles. Her voice rings out across the garden louder than the girls singing along, brimming with confidence that took me years to capture. Robin can fucking sing. If she ever fancied a career change, I’d hand her my spot in The Larks in a heartbeat, and not one fan would complain. I'm shamelessly gawking with my jaw dangling on the floor, as she sings the melody effortlessly, not an ounce of insecurity as she continues to dance. Her voice is freeing and playful, maybe because she knows the song well. It is a noughties classic. I personally get a folk rock vibe from her, but any assumption I’ve made in the past about Robin, has been proven wrong.
We've both been floating entities on the cusp of each other's orbits, prolonging our fated crash by staying away from one another. It's the familiarity of her voice that snaps my drooling mouth shut.
“She’s the one who sings on all the demos you've sent me.” It's not a question and Phin's beaming smile is full of reverence, like he's so happy I've figured it out.
Since being at boarding school he and I have always sent each other demos of music we make, whether they're little jingles we try to make into something or fully produced riffs. He never placed interest in joining the band when we got together, but instead he went to university and pursued learning the craft. I don't think there's an instrument he doesn't know how to play, masking his insecurities over his own voice. Snippets of music he created with the silky voice were always the ones I favoured, but it never dawned on me to establish who it belonged to.
Folding a long leg over his knee, he tucks his chin under his knuckle as he balances still sitting in Merle's lap. “Wonderful isn't she.” There's such love in his tone, mirrored in how she is with him too.
“Incredible.” I manage to whisper.
“You need to work on playing it cool, Wrenny boy.”
“Why’s that?”
“It's our turn next and your jaw is practically unhinged from looking at her.” I've never felt more like a teenage boy, unable to manoeuvre what is clearly a growing crush.
“Stop salivating and c’mon,” He says rising, dusting at his shirt, gearing himself up. “Let's go praise the ladies and get ready to rock some worlds.” I honestly wish I could bottle up the charismatic essence he has to just be himself. He’s down right stupid at times and gets me into all sorts of situations, but his unwavering ability to have faith in himself is always admirable.
The girls stay around the band as we both approach, it only hits me now that Merle hasn’t followed and thinking about it, he’s strangely solemn. He’s usually such a teddy bear, so whatever he spoke to Corbin about must have really upset him. He’s the complete opposite of his brother Bran, who drives me up the wall daily.
I’m about to ask him if his boyfriend is ok, when fingers creep over my shoulder from behind, and I shudder on instinct.
“Wrenny baby, are you going to sing a song for me?” Willow asks, attempting to attach herself but I manage to slide out of her touch. Placing space between us, I can’t help but glare because she’s acting weird again. The conversation we had in the library wasn't the first time; it’s an addition to many and I’m practically pleading at this point for her to leave me alone. Her behaviour reminds me of Lily, who I haven’t even touched, but always tries to desperately sink her teeth into me when no one's around. I feel slightly relieved that I’ve been left alone by her so far today, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen the hostile way she’s looked at Robin whenever we've spoken. She is nowhere to be seen, so I move around the group to stand next to her.
Before coming downstairs for the party, I put off getting dressed after a shower, to read a little of Robin’s debut novel. I’d gotten quarter of the way through, unable to stop devouring each page, but reluctantly I’d gotten dressed and gone downstairs, only to collide into her. I swear there's a force in the house that is constantly bringing us together.
“That was so good. I didn't know you could sing.” I tell her, trying to focus on anything but her gorgeous caramel eyes.
A smirk dances on her lips. “I’m sorry, guess it didn't come up in those two conversations we’ve ever had.”
Four but who's counting.Fuck. Me—I'm counting.
I give my blazer that she's wearing a light tug so she has to take a step towards me, bopping her nose with my finger. “Don’t be a little shit, Wife.”
Her full lips pop open and I can’t contain my laugh, it starts from deep in my chest and leaves a satisfying buzz there. Tilting my head lower, I gently tug again on the material. She really does look cute wearing my clothing.
"No seriously Robin, your voice is really beautiful. It's like—fuck. You're really good." My cheeks sting a little and I'm rattled with this unfamiliar feeling, like I just opened myself a slither, handed her a piece of me and now I’m waiting in case I need to slam myself shut.
An earnest smile brightens her features, and I know she's not meaning to lean into me, but she is. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."
