“Hey, Danica. I’m gonna sing a song for you now.”
Danica blinked at me, then glanced around, like she was expecting some band and a microphone to materialize out of the woods. “Now?”
“Right now.”
“A cappella?”
“Yup. This is the only Panic! At the Disco song I know front to back, so. Hope you like it.”
Her eyes went wide. “Uh… I’m sure…”
I passed her the flask, then hopped up onto the highest point of the rock, which rose a couple feet above her seat, like it was my stage. “Ready?” I cleared my throat and stood looking down at her.
“Okay. Just one sec.” She took a sip, then set the flask aside. Her gaze wandered down my body, slowly. “I just want to absorb this image for the memory banks.”
I laughed, then looked down at myself.
I was wearing black Hellcat Pro mountain bike shoes, black cargos rolled up under the knee, and probably the only white T-shirt I owned. It had scripty black lettering across the chest that saidPolite As Fuck.
“Am I sweating?” I asked her.
“Mmm. I don’t think so.” She finished her perusal, then closed her eyes.
When she did that, I committed her to memory, too.
Sitting on the rock ledge below me, leaned back on her hands in her peach-colored dress, the breeze fluttering the front so I could see part of her left breast. It was bunched up on her thighs so I could see her curvy legs, the bandage on her knee. And the athletic sandals of Amber’s that she said were a bit too tight for her but I made her wear, because her sandals had no grip and would’ve been dangerous on the trails.
Her long butterscotch hair in a pretty ponytail, a few strands drifting down around her cheeks. That soft smile on her face. The sun shining down on her.
I loved how at-home she looked on my rock. How she’d rolled with it all. Not having fresh clothes or the right clothes, not being prepared to get on a bike and ride through the woods. Falling and getting right back up again.
She’d done it all without complaint, just cool to be with me.
“Okay, got it.” She opened her eyes again and smiled at me. “Memorized. Sing away.”
“Okay. Here goes…”
I sung “Death of a Bachelor” for her. I’d probably sung it better before, when I wasn’t going in cold, but my voice warmed up as the song rolled out, and Danica didn’t complain. I knew I sung it well, though I sung it my way, which meant a little grittier than the original.
And I gave it my all, belting it out as loudly as I could.
When I was done, Danica just stared at me for a long moment, her lips parted like she meant to speak.
Then she clapped, slowly. “Holy shit. I feel like there’s no response I could give to that that would be sufficient.” She looked dazed and confused, in a good way. “How do you even know a song like that? It’s not really your style. Is it…?”
“Did I sing it well?”
“Um. Yeah.” She got to her feet as I hopped down to where she was. She pulled me to her just as I pulled her to me, gripping my shoulders as I gripped her waist.
“Summer made me learn it for this show she did a couple years ago. I joined her onstage for this song, and—” Danica cut me off with her mouth. I let her take the lead, driving the kiss… just feeling everything she put into it. When she pulled away, I felt myself smirk.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“You liked it?”
“I fucking loved it. Are you kidding me?”
I kissed her again, softer this time.
