Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
As soon I got to work, Andy and I started stocking the bar for the large crowd we anticipated. Before we knew it, the doors were opened and the patrons began filling up tables while others lined the walls. I got lost making drink orders, until out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jesse step onto the floor.
And holy shit, the transformation. He wore a button-up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. The shirt was tucked into a dark pair of pants, and he had on suspenders with some sort of pattern. His makeup was sedate tonight, but his eyes were lined with black kohl, which made his brown irises stand out. The best part was the fedora he adjusted at an angle with shaky fingers. That was his only tell in an otherwise smooth entrance.
He looked gorgeous, and I nearly messed up the drink order in front of me from staring too long, so I paused to regroup my brain, remembering that I needed to muddle the mint before adding bourbon. I didn’t want an unsatisfied customer complaining to Chet or stiffing me a tip.
When Jesse cleared his throat to speak into the microphone, I could hear the slight tremor in his voice. “Hope everyone’s enjoying their evening. This is my first night singing for you, so don’t give me too hard a time if I mess it up.”
I was mesmerized by the demure personality and the vulnerability in his tone. Was he some sort of chameleon that could change to match any environment? I was about to find out.
There was polite clapping, as if the patrons didn’t know what to expect either, and I had this sense of urgency that he should just get on with it. As I poured two fingers of vodka in a clean glass, he turned to Victor, then stepped back up to the mic.
It was a Sinatra song called “All of Me,” and the first notes out of his mouth made me hold my breath as my pulse thrummed. His voice was low and smoky as he sang about someone taking his heart and him falling apart. And for the first time, I heard something in his voice that totally threw me for a loop. It was a touch of true emotion, like he could relate to what he was singing about—or he was just that good a performer.
And damn, the guy could sing. I didn’t even know what to do with the juxtaposition of seeing him upstairs all flirty and confident, and now all shy and unpretentious and completely spellbinding.
By the third song, he found his groove. Some of his upstairs persona came shining through, but in an understated way, as he joked with the crowd between tunes. He even began traveling around the front tables, pretending to sing to a couple of men and sitting down on a very willing lap. He was charismatic, and well…stunning.
When our eyes locked across the room, it was like he was singing to me. His smile and wink made me feel like a bumbling adolescent at a K-pop concert or something. What in the hell was wrong with me? So Jesse could sing—and dance, and flirt, and had the fucking world in the palm of his hand. Asshole.
“Holy crap,” Andy said over my shoulder. “He’s got a set of pipes on him.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered as I turned away, not wanting to get caught under his spell.
The two regulars sitting in front of me certainly were. I could hear them practically swooning over him. When their conversation took a lascivious turn, my hand curled into a fist. Them talking about bringing him home one night made me feel…pissed and protective. Except I didn’t know why. He’d had plenty of threesomes, I was sure of it. Probably even bragged about it in the break room.
But there was something about this version of Jesse that was throwing all that out the window. And I was no better than the customers in front of me lusting after him. Even I wanted to fuck this version of him. Slow and steady. I wanted him to keep that shirt on with the rolled sleeves and the buttons open at his chest and his ass exposed to me. Maybe the hat too. Goddamn it, Jesse.
I pushed my legs toward the other end of the bar, away from the stage and my overactive libido. I’d made it clear to him that we were only a one-off. Period. And I needed to follow through with my own rules, no matter how much Jesse intrigued me.
When Jesse was finished with the first set, he wound his way around the tables, and I motioned to him with a glass of water and lemon at the end of the bar.
“What’s this?” he asked as he approached, panting softly and swiping at his brow.