Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)

“K, I’m headed up,” Bo said a second after Josh tapped the mic. “See you in a few,” he whispered in my ear so closely that I thought it was meant to be a kiss, as well; his electricity overrode my system once again. As he walked away, I saw what appeared to be the top of a tattoo at the base of his neck, and made a mental note to check that out later.

Bo started his set with some of his original work, which blew me away; Monica kept elbowing me during his songs to raise her eyebrows and widen her eyes. Josh had a proud smile on his face, shaking his head back and forth like he couldn’t believe we hadn’t heard of him until now. My insides sashayed with each note.

My soul has always felt music deeper than my ears could ever hear it; I was involuntarily swaying to his beats. Occasionally, he’d glance up at me during his songs; it felt like musical foreplay. I always returned his smile, sometimes while casually biting my lower lip. Two could play at this game. Then he nodded in my direction, which lead me up on stage.

“Those of you who were here last night were treated to the voice of this talented woman, November Harris.” His hand embraced my knee as he spoke, which sent me into the stratosphere. I need to get ahold of myself.

The crowd clapped. Even if they weren’t there last night, most of them had likely heard me sing at least once before. Monica hollered and Josh whistled.

“Thank you, Bo, but, the pleasure was all mine. How talented is he?” I asked the crowd as I clapped in to the air. They followed graciously.

I whipped my head toward him and narrowed my eyes at his guitar while he plucked the intro to the song he wanted me to sing. My heart plummeted head-first into the wicked sea of my stomach.

“Shit, what are you doing?!” I whisper-yelled in his ear as I covered the microphone, “ I haven’t sung Ani Difranco anywhere in public!”

He smiled his hot half-smile and continued the intro to “Both Hands”, leaving me panicked at the thought of the unique register I’d need to reach to pull it off. What the hell was he doing?! He started the intro again since I missed my cue. His knee knocked into mine and he mouthed, “Go.” I cleared my throat and begged for feeling to return to my face.

As I finished the first verse I reveled in how great it felt. I wondered how he knew that I would recognize that song. I guess I did mention that I liked Ani . . . He was song-flirting with me all over again. I rolled with it and had to refrain from jumping him right there on the stage when his voice joined mine. He brought a husky rock undertone to the harmony that shook my insides.

When we finished, I exhaled with such force that it felt like I’d been holding my breath the entire song.

“Meet me outside when you finish your set,” I breathed into his ear as the crowd applauded. And, just so he was sure, I grazed my lips across his earlobe before I headed back to the bar. I heard his breath hitch just before he cleared his throat, and a seductive smile of satisfaction concealed itself behind his microphone.

Bo finished the rest of his set with a shade of crimson on his cheeks that suited me just fine.

“That boy has it bad for you, Ember. What’d you do to him last night?” Josh elbowed my side.

“Josh!” Monica slapped his arm.

“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you Josh. I’m heading outside. Bo’s gonna meet me out there when he’s done-don’t hassle him, Josh.” I grabbed two pints and, with a wink, I headed out to sit in a chair facing the door. I wanted to see him first this time.

The familiar applause that comes at the end of the set erupted, and within two minutes Bo was walking through the door and straight toward me with a mile-wide grin. I stood up and handed him his beer.

“Walk with me.” I stepped through the dry grass on to the sandy beach that hugged the ocean.

“Can you take your beer out here?” Bo asked, faking concern for the law.

“We’re just going right here, Officer.” I plunked down in the sand and kicked off my sandals, digging my toes into the cool earth. This effort, I’d hoped, would keep me somewhat grounded from his electrical output.

Bo sat next to me and spilled a bit of his beer when I playfully punched him in the shoulder.

“What kind of a dick move was that? Pulling out an Ani Difranco song, assuming I’d know it?” I tried to sound playful as I relived the initial terror of hearing him strum the song that, up until then, I’d only sung in the shower or when drunk.

“Hey,” he said as he rocked his shoulder in to mine, “that was crazy good. I’ve never sung that song live before either.”

Bo’s shoulder paused on mine as he placed his elbows on bent knees, dangling his pint from his long fingers. He slipped off his black Sperry’s and dragged his toes through the sand. Even his feet are sexy.

“Still, you’re an asshole. I nearly fainted!”

My scalp tingled as he brushed my hair aside, dancing his fingers across the back of my neck. His hands were tight, like guitar strings, and just as delicate. Despite the callused fingertips that come from years of plucking, their graze was soft and inviting.

“Forgive me,” he chuckled as he pressed his thick, soft lips on the spot where my neck meets my shoulders.