“There is nothing sexier than the smile on your face right now,” Trevor whispers, wrapping his arms around me from behind. He’s still holding my cotton candy and lemon shake-up, and I lean forward to take a sip.

“And I’m guessing by that smile that everything went better than you expected it to.”

Placing my hands on top of his arms, I hold him to me. “It went great. She wasn’t at all mad, and you were right; as I was talking to her about it, I felt like I was letting it go. I think it’s always going to bother me, but I definitely feel lighter about the situation.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

Turning in Trevor’s arms, I smile up at him. “I’m proud of me too. We should celebrate. What do you want to do next?”

“I figured you’d want to get home at a decent time since I kept you up late last night and you have to work tomorrow.”

“I’m not tired, and this is the best first date I’ve ever had. I don’t want it to end.”

“Okay…” Trevor looks over my shoulder and grins. “How about we dance?”

“I love to dance.”

“That’s why I suggested it.” He pulls away and motions to somewhere behind me.

I turn around and sure enough, there’s a stage across the way. Equipment is set up, and a band is taking its place in front of a small crowd. A sign perched on the corner of the stage reads Dancing: FREE Karaoke: $1 per song.

“Let’s do it.”

Trevor tucks the cotton candy under his arm so he can take my hand. “I’ll dance, but you’re not getting me on that stage to sing.”

For over an hour, we watch people climb onstage. Some sing perfectly, some off key, and others can’t sing to save their lives, but it doesn’t matter how they sound because Trevor and I are having the time of our lives. We’ve danced and laughed and when the middle-aged woman in a crop top and far too much makeup steps off the stage, we collapse onto a bench.

“That was fun,” I say, blowing my hair out of my face. “I didn’t know you could dance.”

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

“Isn’t it weird that we’ve known each other our whole lives, but there’s still so much we don’t know about the other?”

“Tell me something about yourself that I don’t know,” Trevor says. “Wait, tell me something no one else knows.”

“Like a secret?”

“A secret, a hidden talent, a fear, anything. I want a piece of you that no one else is privy to.”

“Okay.” I look around, trying to come up with something I can tell him, when my eyes land on the microphone.

Singing was a thing between me and Dad—something I cherished and loved. He would twirl me around the house, and we would belt out tunes while Mom cooked dinner. Most people don’t even know I can sing, or that I love to sing. I haven’t so much as a hummed a tune in front of another person since my father’s death—not even Mom or Mo—but I find myself wanting to sing for Trevor.

“Wait here.”

I leave him sitting on the bench. I walk up to the young girl sitting at a table beside the stage, hand her my dollar bill, and give her my song request. The band members wave me on stage, and that’s when the panic sets in.

My heart is pounding, my palms sweating, and there’s a good chance my entire funnel cake will end up on the floor at my feet.

“You okay, darlin’?” the guitarist asks.

“Just feeling a little uneasy,” I say, looking out at the small crowd. Most of them aren’t even paying attention, but Trevor is, and his smile is about as wide as it can get.

“You don’t have to sing. We’ll even give you your dollar back.”

I smile up at the man. “No, I want to.”

He nods. “Just relax and have fun. That’s what this is all about.”

“What if I mess up?”

He chuckles, his belly bouncing in the process. “No one’s gonna care.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

The man covers the microphone with his hand and leans in close. He smells of Old Spice and cigars, and a wave of nostalgia washes over me. “You did hear the last woman sing, right? You can’t be any worse than her.”

I shouldn’t laugh, but I do.

“You ready?”

I nod. He hands me the microphone, and I take a deep breath. Trevor wanted to learn something about me that no one else knew, and this is about as big as it gets.

The band beings to play. I listen to the opening chords, and when I hear the familiar tune, I lift the microphone and begin to sing. The melody flows through me as I close my eyes and sing the old country ballad. It’s about a man who loses the woman of his dreams and battles his way through addiction to get her back. It was one of my dad’s favorites, and when I find myself alone or in the shower, it’s this song that finds its way to my lips.

My legs are shaking, but my voice doesn’t waver. I pour every ounce of energy I have into the lyrics, and when the song ends and I hear thunderous applause, I force myself to look up. There are only about twenty people surrounding the stage, but they’re all standing up and clapping, including Trevor.

“You killed it,” the guitarist says, taking the microphone from me. “You up for singing another one?”

“Not tonight.” I grin. “But you’ll see me again soon.”

“I hope so.”

I bounce off stage, and Trevor is at the bottom of the steps waiting for me. He pulls me into his arms and kisses me. “I had no idea you could sing like that.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Your voice is beautiful. Have you been singing your whole life?” he says, guiding me back to our bench.

“My dad used to sing. Some of my fondest memories are of us dancing around the house. We’d both be singing as he twirled me from room to room. Johnny Cash, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Snoop Dogg—our playlist was endless.”

“Snoop Dogg?”

“Oh yeah.” I nod. “My dad could spit out a mean beat.”

“Do you want to do it again?” he asks, nodding toward the stage. “I’d love to hear you sing something else.”

“Definitely, but not tonight. I think once was enough considering I’ve never sung in public before. Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Because you amaze me. Everything about you amazes me.” He blinks. “Come on, Tiny Singer, let’s get you home.”

Trevor and I talk and laugh the entire way to my place, which doesn’t take long, and when he pulls into my driveway, he puts his truck in park. “Don’t move.”

He jumps out, jogs around the front, and opens my door. With my hand in his, he helps me out and walks me to the front door.

“Do you do that with all the girls?”

“I told you before, it’s just you.”

Grinning, I pull my keys out of my pocket. “Would you like to come in?”

Trevor takes my hand when I reach for the doorknob. “Not tonight,” he says, pulling me in for a kiss.

“Really?” I sigh. “Because tonight was perfect, and I thought we’d end it with a replay of last night.” I fist my hands in the front of his shirt.

“Tonight was perfect, and last night…” He shakes his head and smiles wryly. “Last night was phenomenal. But I’ve never done this before,” he says, motioning between us. “And you’re taking a chance on me, so I really want to do this the right way.”

Ugh…can he get any more perfect?

“And by the right way, you mean you’re going to end the date with a chaste kiss, and you’ll call me in a few days to set up our next one?”

“Hell no.” Trevor curls his fingers around the back of my neck. Using his thumbs, he tilts my face up. His lips linger above mine. “We’re going to end with a heated kiss that I hope will leave you thinking about me all night long and well into the morning, and then I’m going to pick you up again tomorrow night for another date.”

“Another date?”

“I’m prepared to woo you, Red. That means lots of dates. I’m talking dinner, dancing, movies, walks on the beach… If it’s something new couples do, we’re going to do it.”

Giddiness bubbles up inside of me. “No one has ever wooed me before.”

“No?” he whispers, lowering his head.

I shake my head, my eyes dropping to his sinfully full lips.

“Well, hold on tight, sweetheart, because I’m about to woo the hell out of you.”