“I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body,” he started, and I was instantly giggling. Not only was his voice terrible, but he was melodramatic, waving a fist and making a ridiculously somber face as he sang the heartbreaking lyrics.
His unseriousness made it so easy for me to sing my part.Also thank you, Jack Daniel’s, for the liquid courage.We sang the crap out of that song, both of us laughing as we belted the lyrics and gestured to each other like lovesick fools while no one in the place paid us any attention.
“I can’t believe you didn’t want to do this when you were obviously born to be onstage,” Connor said as we walked back to our table, his hand on my lower back. “The way you dropped your microphone twice, the way you cackled directly into it when I hit my high note; you, Miss Distefano, are a natural performer.”
“I guess I was afraid you’d be jealous,” I said with a laugh.
“Of…?” he prompted.
“Of my talent? My…showmanship?”
“I mean, I was definitely in awe of it,” he said as we sat down. “Your performance was awesomely…something.”
“Stop gushing, Cunningham, it’s embarrassing.”
“Like your performance.”
“Embarrassingly awesome?”
His mouth slid into a gut-punching full-on grin. “That is exactly what it was.”
I was truly disappointed when we had to leave, but I also knew morning was going to come way too early.
When he finally pulled up in front of my house, I held out a hand.
“You probably don’t want to walk me to the door,” I said, looking out the windshield and remembering the chaotic nightmare that had been his arrival at my house several hours before.
“No?” Connor asked, his dark eyebrows wrinkling together like he was confused by my request.
“No,” I said. “It’ll be round two of the pickup. My dad and brothers will try to get you to stay and watch TV and drink beer with them and it’ll be a whole thing that we don’t want happening. Dropping me here is perfect,” I said.
“Well, I had a really great time tonight,” he said, and something about the tone of his voice made my stomach do a flip as those intense eyes met mine.
“So did I,” I said, feeling shy and also like I was going to explode from the way he was looking at me. It was impossible. Connor Cunningham couldnotbe looking at me like that. And I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but it felt like he was leaning in closer, like there was a heavy anticipation in the air.
Is he going to kiss me?
I swallowed and looked at his mouth, and when my eyes came back up, I could see he’d registered that look.
He saw that I’dlookedat his mouth.
Did he think I wasexpectinghim to kiss me?
Maybe he had zero plans to, but now I’d looked at his mouth.
Shit.
My wild imagination was making me a fool and I didn’t want to embarrass myself so before I could make things worse, I reached for the door handle and jumped out of the car.
“Thank you so much I had a great time,” I yelled at him, barely registering his look of surprise and amusement, before turning and running up the stairs to my porch.
He idled in the car while I unlocked the door, and after I stepped inside, I let out a relieved breath. I then watched through the peephole as he finally put the car in reverse and drove away.
I’d just had dinner and sung karaoke with Connor Freaking Cunningham.
What the hell?
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