That pisses me off more than seeing how good he looks, standing up there with his guitar slung over one shoulder as he sings passionately into the mic, haloed beneath the stage lights. His voice echoes into my bone marrow — the same voice I’ve heard every night in my dreams for the past few weeks, haunting me like a ghost.
I realize now why the song seemed so familiar. He’s doing one of Lacey’s numbers, but it sounds totally different coming from his mouth. It’s a slowed down, simplified version and, I must say, a vast improvement over Lacey’s overdone squawking. I’m not the only one who thinks so — there’s a line of girls pressed up against the stage, jumping up and down with their eyes locked on Ryder’s face like he’s a drug and they’re desperate for a fix.
The smoldering smirk on his lips only fuels their fire.
“I had no idea they’d be here!” Carly yells, grinning at me. “How lucky is this?!”
“The luckiest,” I drawl flatly.
She links her arm with mine. “Come on, let’s get a drink!”
I nod and follow her to the bar. After elbowing our way to the front, Carly tries to flag down a bartender. All my attention is fixated on the stage behind us. I doubt he’s spotted me in this dark crowd, but I have a feeling it’s only a matter of time.
“Here.” Carly passes me a club soda, taking a hefty gulp of her cocktail. “Let’s get closer!”
“I’m good here, actually.”
She looks at me like I’m nuts. “We came here to dance!”
She’s right.
We did.
I shouldn’t let some jerk ruin my night.
I spent seventeen years letting a man dictate my every move. Living in fear of his reactions. Walking on eggshells around him, trying to make myself invisible. I watched my mother do it, too, and it never seemed to make her the least bit happy.
I came to Nashville because I’m done with that life. I’m done living in fear of other people, done caring what anyone thinks about me or the way I live.
Even gorgeous musicians with perfect hair who make my heart pound twice its normal tempo.
“Lead the way!” I yell, linking my arm with Carly’s. “Let’s dance.”