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CHAPTER FOUR: THE DEVIL IN THE DETAILS - PART FOUR
Still feeling flushed from the lights and crowd, Harri hid a giddy grin behind her glass as she sipped, watching Azel bend over the songbook. He was going to sing for her. She didn’t know why that pleased her so much. Probably because she found the idea of performing in public as embarrassing as she did thrilling. It was something none of them, not even Katie who was probably the most brazen person she knew, would ever do on their own but, somehow, together, their collective bravery could.
She wasn’t foolish enough to think that they were good. Good, at karaoke, wasn’t the point. The music that came out of the speakers was never nearly as important as the experience had on stage. The way that moment of courage, of vulnerability, could transform a room, alchemically creating this — regardless of skill or talent — shared moment of greatness. It left her feeling equal parts silly and humiliated and… inexplicably exhilarated.
But to go up there alone… Harri couldn’t even imagine it. The only time she’d come close was when Nate had convinced her to sing a duet with him. She cringed, remembering her stuttering, stiff, choked voice during her solo lines. It’d been terrifying and, even when they’d sung together, hadn’t felt like they were together. It’d felt like she’d been trying to do and be something she hadn’t really wanted to because she’d known he’d wanted it. And she’d wanted to give him what he wanted. Wanted to be the kind of person he wanted her to be. Bold. Brave. Romantic. Instead of just her.
You want me to sing for you?
Biting her lip, she wondered what Azel wanted to give her.
She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. She was sure it was no big deal for him. Sinfully handsome, cosmically charismatic, with the voice of a fallen angel, she was sure he’d probably sung for other people before. It didn’t mean anything to him, just because it felt like it should to her.
But, still, the way Azel stepped up to the mic, adjusting it to his height, as he searched the crowd until he found her, made her breath catch. Even as the music started, he didn’t break that connection, keeping her gaze as he began to sing.
“When I close my eyes,
you’re all I see.
With your hand held out,
feel only me.”
Dear Lord, she should have known he’d be good. But she had not been prepared for his voice to pour smooth and warm like booze through her body, pooling low and liquid inside. The look he gave her, as he sang those lyrics directly to her, felt like a stroke, a lick of fire, along her skin. Watching his mouth, full and so very mobile wrapped around the slow rock ballad, move over the microphone was like going slowly out of her mind. And, she was sure, the slight sway of his hips — the slow, swaggering swing that dared your eyes to linger — shouldn’t be allowed.
And, feeling deliciously damned, Harri dared.
“Touch me anywhere,
everywhere, please.
In you, I know,
I’ll find release.”
She turned when she heard a group of women on the other side of the stage cheer wildly. Clutching the cold, hard glass in her hand, Harri watched them reach up to Azel with eager smiles and welcoming eyes.
“He’s popular, isn’t he?”
Harri’s jaw tensed. “What are you doing here, Nate?”
“Emma invited me,” Nate said easily. “Said you’d be coming.”
“With a date,” she said, turning to steadfastly look at Azel again, even though it felt harder to focus on him.
“Are you with him?” Nate asked. “Really?”
Harri frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I heard this is just your second date.” Nate smiled, looking far too pleased. “And look at him; he practically has a fan club.”
Harri watched as Azel grinned and nodded at the cluster of women as they called out to him, their manicured hands stroking his cuffs and shoes. Her frown deepened. “They find my date hot,” she said, aiming for a casual tone, “so do I; what’s your point?”
“He could have any of them, Harri,” Nate said, walking behind her, his voice crawling across the back of her neck. “He could have anyone with just a look or a word.”
Harri lifted her chin and straightened her glasses. “And he chose me; again, what is your point?”
“For now.” He leaned in close. “Look at him. Look at them.”
Reluctantly, Harri did. In pretty party dresses framed by perfectly tempting bodies, they were the kind of women people admired. Who outshone and overwhelmed women like her. They had something — that thing — she knew she didn’t have. Some special quality that caught other’s attention, that lured others toward them. Staring at them, it was as if she could feel herself shrink, disappear. She swore she could feel the room’s gaze skate over her, like she was scenery.
“You’ll always be just one of a crowd with him. Could you ever really feel like you were with him, Harri?”
She looked up at Azel, whose gaze no longer looked for hers, before shutting her eyes. Suddenly, she felt ridiculous, standing at the lip of the stage, holding his drink like some living countertop, while he crooned for an adoring crowd. She looked down at the half-drunk glasses, now clammy against her palms.
“You’re perfect, a dream,
too good to be true.
How did anyone like me
get someone like you?”
She opened her eyes and stared as Nate rested a hand on her shoulder, over her perfectly pressed, primly cut work shirt. “You know I love you.” His hand cupped her fine cotton-covered skin like it belonged there. “You’re it for me. All I’ll ever want.” His fingers tightened, pressing the stiff but soft cloth into her flesh possessively. “All I’ll ever need.” She looked up from his hand to his face as he let her go so he could grab the drinks from her. He set them aside before turning her to face him, his smile sad and sorry. Pitying and far too perceptive. “Do you even know what he wants? Or how long he’ll want you?”
“Look at me,
Show me what you see.
Take everything I have
Before you leave.”
Harri stiffened as Azel’s raspingly melodic voice melted like chocolate over her senses — tempting, decadent, and, ultimately, not very good for her — feeling her chest tighten. She looked away from Nate. Away from Azel. Away from the crowd. She swallowed hard, her throat feeling suddenly stuck. She stepped back and shook her head, needing space. Air.
She was being silly. Who cared if Azel didn’t want her? Of course he didn’t. That wasn’t part of their deal. He was free to want any one of those women. He could go after anyone he damned well pleased. He wasn’t hers. She wasn’t his. He had no reason to want her.
But what if no one wanted her?
In a world full of women like that, who was she? Outshone, overwhelmed, and overlooked. She had a lifetime of experiences telling her so.
And that was fine. She didn’t need to be desired like that. Wouldn’t even begin to know how. She was other things. Good things. Sure and solid things. Smart and capable. Dependable. Things her friends and family and coworkers and clients valued. She didn’t need to shine to have worth. She didn’t. Not with them.
But what if Nate was right? What if, romantically, she was it for him? What if he was it for her? Her last chance at being wanted. Of being loved. When attracting a partner meant being… well, attractive, where did that leave someone like her? What if she was throwing it all away simply because she didn’t want him, didn’t want exactly what he was offering?
When having both seemed impossible, was it better to have what you want, whatever the price, or to be wanted, no matter the cost?
She took another step, her head pounding, and shook her head. “I have to go.”
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