When I saw the panicked expression on Carter’s face, I knew she was about to bolt at the first opportunity. A drink should help calm her down and if I remember correctly from Reagan and Noah’s engagement party, champagne works wonders for her.

“One champagne and a Heineken, please,” I tell the bartender.

“I never said I wanted a champagne,” Carter says, tugging on the hand I’m holding.

I don’t relinquish my grip on her. If I have to keep her by my side all night I will. “What did you want?” I ask.

“Champagne,” she murmurs. I grin knowingly. “That’s beside the point,” she huffs. “You’re supposed to ask me.”

The bartender places the champagne flute in front of her and slides the green bottle of beer toward me.

“So, did you sleep with that lady?” she questions.

It takes me a moment to realize who she’s talking about. “The one I gave the stadium tour to?” She nods. “No. That would have been an epic clusterfuck. I’m not an idiot who only thinks with his dick.”

“Are you sure about that? Your reputation precedes you.”

I place my hand on my chest. “Moi? I have a reputation?”

“Mhm. You sure do.”

“Who told you about my supposed reputation? You just moved back here and as far as I know, you and I don’t know any of the same people, except for your sister, Noah and your father.” Raising my beer to my lips, I take a sip. “I’m damn sure Noah and your father weren’t talking about my sex life so that leaves Reagan.”

“No comment.” She rests the edge of the glass on her bottom lip.

I watch as the pale liquid slips inside her red mouth. I want to know what champagne tastes like on her tongue. “Reagan’s already warned me to keep my distance from you.”

“She has?”

“Yep, I’m sorry about that.”

“No worries, Candy. It’s not like I’m going to let anything someone else says keep me away from you.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Turning to face her, I lean closer. “You can take my words any way you want. I’ve made my intent clear from the first time we kissed. Nothing’s changed since then. If anything, I’m only more determined to have you, now that I know you better.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried.”

“Worried about what? I don’t bite.” I wink. “Not unless you want me to. All you have to do is ask and I’ll do anything,” I say running my index finger along her forearm.

She jerks away, picks up her glass and gulps down the rest of her champagne.

Of course, I immediately flag the bartender down for another. She needs to let go and have some fun tonight. Maybe the champagne will help her to get out of her own head for a little while.

The bartender places a new glass of champagne down on the long bar and her gaze slides to me. “Did you order this?”

“I did.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“No, not drunk. I don’t want the night to end with your head in a toilet, but I’d like to see you buzzed. Why? Is it working?”

She raises the glass and takes a sip. Her tongue licks away the traces of champagne from her bottom lip. “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Maybe,” she smiles.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Raising my beer bottle, I tap it against her flute.

“What are you two up to?” Reagan steps beside her sister and interrupts.

“We’re working on getting Carter buzzed,” I answer.

“Really?” Reagan raises an eyebrow.

“Just a little,” Carter replies, nonchalantly.

“I think this sounds like a great idea,” Reagan says, surprising me.

“You do?” Carter sounds skeptical.

“Yep. You’ve had a tough last few months. You deserve to have some fun.”

“Drink up, Candy and let the good times ensue.”

Two glasses of champagne later, Carter tugs on my hand. “Let’s go sing karaoke.”

“You like karaoke?” I quirk an eyebrow, surprise evident in my tone.

“I love it. Well, I used to love it before my ex fiancé turned me into a bore.”

Ex-fiancé, huh? It makes my stomach unsettled every time I think of how close she came to marrying that douche. Pressing my lips together, I wonder how recent this happened. “How long ago did you guys break up?”

She blows out a large sigh. “Seven months.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

“No, not anymore.” She shakes her head.

“What happened?”

“I think I was a convenient choice for him and he was safe.” She laughs. “It’s ironic that the “safe” guy knocked up a friend of mine when we were still together. How do you like them apples?”

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that, but you know what they say.”

“What do they say?”

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“What could possibly be the reason to explain him sleeping with my good friend?”

“So, you’d appreciate how awesome I am when I came along.”

She snorts. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, bud.”

“Are you going to sing for me or what?”

“I’m going to sing. I never said it was for you.”

“Can we sing one together?”

“Nope.”

“It’s like that?”

She coyly lowers her gaze, a slight smile playing on her tempting lips. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Come on,” I say rising from the bar stool and leading her across the bar to the DJ who’s running the karaoke. Both of us choose songs, neither letting the other see what we’ve signed up for.

“Are you nervous?” I ask.

“No. Singing is the one thing I never get nervous about. I love music.” She runs her hand over her slicked back hair, combing her fingers through her long ponytail. “What about you? Are you going to follow through or chicken out?”

“What’s this chicken out thing you speak of? I don’t know the meaning of backing down from a challenge.”

“Good to know.”

“Yep, consider yourself warned.” I wink and then the DJ calls out Carter’s name. She downs the rest of her champagne, handing me the empty glass. “A final dose of courage?” I ask, with a smirk.

“Hell no, just thirsty.” Peering over her shoulder at me, her eyes send messages that I want to receive. Messages I hope I’m not misinterpreting. Reaching a hand to the back of her head, she slides the elastic from her hair and throws it into the audience.

“Take it all off, baby,” someone shouts in a deep voice from across the room. My eyes narrow as I search for the smart ass, but they return to Carter in time to witness her shaking out the sexy thick mass of her hair. My mouth goes drier than the desert and I swallow hard, my Adam’s apple jerking in my throat. Visions of her naked in my bed have me fighting to keep my semi from turning into a full blown hard on.

She struts the rest of the way toward the stage and my eyes are drawn to her ass like I’m a missile locked onto its target. And in a way I am. I’m locked, loaded and ready to explode after a few days in her company. I’m not sure how much more my dick can handle. I’ve been on my best behavior which is no easy feat when we’ve been spending so much time together.

Reaching the middle of the stage, she picks up the microphone amid applause mixed with some shrill wolf whistles.

I notice a table of guys sitting right near the stage and every single one of them are focused on Carter as if she’s about to impart some life changing secret.

The beginning notes of Ice Ice Baby start, and a huge cheesy grin takes over my face as she begins to gyrate and thrust her hips to the music. She’s so fucking adorable. She sings all the lyrics like a badass rapper with attitude. She even manages to dance along for the entire song like an actual rock star which has some of the audience standing to the side of the stage mimicking her moves and calling out her name. When the last note resonates with the crowd they all start to cheer loudly, and her sparkling eyes meet mine. She bows, a smile from ear to ear, her cheeks flushed an attractive shade of pink. She looks so vibrant and alive. She looks perfect.

She places the microphone down and bounces over to me. The excitement she’s experiencing from performing is practically oozing out of her pores.

Pulling her into my arms, I hold her close. “How am I supposed to follow that?” I ask, my lips brushing the top of her soft hair.

She raises her head, resting her chin on my chest. “Show me what you got, jock,” she says, her tone teasingly cocky as the DJ calls me to the stage.

“I’ll show you what I got later when we get back to the room; my singing will have to suffice for now.” I wiggle my eyebrows, extricating myself from her hold and saunter confidently to the stage amongst shrieks and whistles from all the women in the crowd. I can’t deny I like the attention, but these days there’s only one woman I’m interested in. Her opinion is the only one that matters to me.

Clearing my throat, I wait for the music to start before raising the microphone in front of my mouth. “I’m just a gigolo and everywhere I go, people know the part I’m playing.” Scanning the audience, I find her to the right side of the stage watching me, riveted in place. Judging by the wide-eyed expression on her face and her slack jaw, I’ve taken her by surprise with my David Lee Roth song choice. Or maybe it’s that I actually have a good singing voice. I used to be in the church choir when I was a kid.

Growing up catholic, my parents made sure I did it all. I was an altar boy and a choir member. I joined every peer group I could, and it was all capped off by twelve years of catholic school. My mom also made me suffer through tap dancing lessons when I was seven. She only let me quit when I got into my third fight with Tommy Creedon, the neighborhood bully when he called me a pansy ass motherfucker. Three black eyes later and football replaced tap dancing, but I’ll forever owe my mom a debt of gratitude because the dance lessons made me light on my feet which benefits me at the wide receiver position I play. They’re also coming in handy now as I perform an old soft shoe for Carter. I know there’s an audience full of people watching, but she might as well be the only one in the room. Her stare is the only one I feel, the only one that I crave. Knowing she’s watching drives me to commit one hundred percent. I immerse myself in my performance as if this is the fucking Grammy Awards and not some reception hall filled with MMA fighters and their families. By the time the song ends I’m getting a standing ovation from the growing crowd.

Leaving the stage with a quick salute in the audience’s direction, I make my way over to where Carter waits. Her smile is so genuine as I approach, I can’t help but send one back at her.

“Who are you?” she questions, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her ample chest.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anything you can’t do? Singing. Tap Dancing. Football. Fighting.”

“What can I say? I’m a renaissance man. I can do it all.”

“What other talents do you have that I don’t know about?”

“I don’t want to sound arrogant. I’d rather show you than tell you,” I say, leaning toward her, my eyes intently locked on hers.

Can she see how much I desire her - how much I need her to reciprocate this attraction I feel?

I can’t be imagining the flicker of longing I see gleaming from her enthralling blue eyes, before she skirts them away nervously. She wants me, too. It’s only her fear of getting hurt that holds her back. “Come on.” Tugging her arm from its crossed position, I clasp her hand with mine. “I’m thirsty from all that singing. Let’s get another drink.”