“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I tell him.
“You’re going to be amazing,” he says.
“And it’s just Silver Falls,” Lincoln adds. “People here celebrate you even if you’re not some fancy singer from New York or someplace. You’re going to bring down the house.”
Everett just gives me a look full of quiet encouragement, and I let their faith in me bolster me as we head to the bar.
The open mic night has brought out more people than usual, and the bar is packed. It usually is at this time of the evening, but now there are people at tables staring at sheet music or rehearsing lines from poetry, and others in the parking lot tuning various instruments.
There’s an air of excitement to it all, and I wonder how long it’s been since Silver Falls has had a chance to show off like this. Maybe everybody’s nervous, so it’ll stand out less that I’ve never done anything like this before.
“Do you want a drink?” Cash asks.
I shake my head. “No, I think I need to keep my wits about me tonight.” My face feels warmer than usual, and even though I’m standing still, there’s a staticky sort of adrenaline burning under my skin that I can’t shake. Until our performance is over, I’m not going to be able to relax.
Cash goes off to talk to someone who waves him over, and Everett and Lincoln are in conversation with the bartender on duty, leaving me to sip some water and take calming breaths.
Someone sidles up next to me, and I glance over to see Leo, hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.
“You look incredible tonight,” he says, his eyes flicking over me with obvious approval.
“Thank you,” I reply, turning away from him a little.
“Excited about the open mic?”
I nod. “Sure. It’s something new for me to try. Are you performing?”
“No, no, I’m just a supporter. My talents are definitely not meant for the stage.” Judging from the way he’s looking at me, I can tell he’s implying something with that comment, but I don’t feel like going down that road with him. He keeps talking before I have to come up with a response anyway.
“So I was wondering if you’d like a redo of the other night. Maybe something a little more intimate this time? I know a lot of private places I could take you to and show you a good time.”
Even if I was interested in him, I wouldn’t let him take me to a ‘private place’ on the second date. But he’s standing there, looking self-assured and almost smug, like he knows there’s no way I’ll say no.
“No thanks,” I say, keeping my face neutral. “I’ve realized that I’m not really interested in dating right now.” It’s not quite the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line, but it’s close enough.
Leo’s face falls, and it feels good to knock some of that smugness off it. “Oh… are you sure? I think we’d have a good time together.”
“I’m sure,” I tell him firmly. “Thank you for the offer, but no.”
I’m aware that all three of the Alphas are listening in, pretending to be absorbed in their own conversations, and I don’t even have to look at them to feel their approval and satisfaction that I turned Leo down.
The open mic night is called to start not long afterward, Laurina handling the duty of being MC. Cash and I aren’t first or last, thank goodness, somewhere in the middle enough that I can watch other people but don’t have too much time to get worked up about going on the makeshift stage.
Several people from town take their turns though, and I watch some amateur comedy routines that get token laughs from the audience, and a woman who I think works at the post office, who has written the most beautiful poetry I’ve ever heard. Another ranch hand gets up and sings while playing the banjo, and he has the whole bar clapping or stomping their feet along with his catchy tune about not being able to find his boots.
As the applause from his performance dies away, Laurina takes the mic again. “Thanks, Brett,” she says, grinning. “And I’m sure we all hope you lose something else, so you can grace us with another song next time. Up next on the stage, we have two performers that we all know. Give it up for Cash and Harper!”
My heart beats double time as I get up and take Cash’s offered hand, letting him lead me to the stage. If it wasn’t for the fact that his hand is slightly damp with sweat, I wouldn’t even know that he’s nervous too.
He waits for the clapping to die down before leaning over to the mic with his trademark bright grin. “Thanks for having us, Silver Falls,” he says. “We’re gonna do a little song for you tonight.”
“It’s your bar!” someone calls out, and that gets a rumble of laughter through the crowd.
Cash chuckles. “Damn right. So you better clap, or I’m cutting you off.”
He looks at me, his eyes warm and bright, and counts us off as he starts to play the opening chords to the song we’ve picked. It’s slow and melodic, and starts with both of us singing together, which felt like the fairest way to begin.
There’s something grounding about singing with Cash. It’s easy to look at him, and to let the rest of the bar fall away. He keeps his gaze on mine, playing the guitar like it’s second nature, fingers slipping from one chord to the next and strumming along.