Page 12 of When The Noise Stops

"I know this," I shook my head. I don't even know why I said it.

She stopped washing dishes.

She turned around, raising an eyebrow.

"You know Justin Bieber?"

I nodded. Still not sure why I was even doing this. Maybe I wanted to seem cool.

"Sing it."

"You first."

"I don't know the words."

"I don't believe you."

She picked up a dish towel, flicked it at me.

"Sing, Grizz."

I cleared my throat.

"In the city, we used to live in Yukon. I'd come whenever you come..."

She lost it. Full on laughing at me, her clutching the counter for support.

"Oh my God. That was the worst thing I've ever heard."

"You asked."

"I didn't know you'd butcher it that bad."

"Sing it again."

"No."

"Come on, Grizz. One more time. For me."

I looked at her. The way the candlelight caught her face, the way her grin waned—I wanted to, but I wouldn't.

"Nah. Once was enough."

She came at me then. Full contact, playful hands grabbing my shoulders, shaking me like she could rattle the words out.

"Come on, sing it," she laughed, fingers digging into my arms, trying to tickle me.

"You can't just drop that and leave me hanging."

I grunted.

"I can and I did."

"No, no, no." She was laughing so hard she was breathless, hands all over—pushing my shoulders, patting my chest, her fingers finding my ribs, tickling.

"One more verse. Give me one more verse, Grizz."

My dick started to swell.