I laugh to myself, waiting for a drink at the bar, when Felicity steps in front of me, a strained smile on her face. It’s the first time today she hasn’t been full-on beaming. What the fu—
“Is it true?” she asks, breathless.
“What?” I ask, just as the bartender hands me my drink. She snatches it from my hand, places it down, and pulls me away from the bar and around the corner.
“That you play the piano?”
“What? Well, yeah but—”
Her eyes gaze heavenward and she lets out a relieved sigh. “I need you to play. Just for the first dance. The DJ can pick up the rest after that.”
I raise my eyebrows. “How do you even know I play well enough?”
She rolls her eyes. “Now is not the time to be modest, Charlie. Nate told me, and it’s an emergency. The pianist broke his hand. I’m desperate. The song for our first dance was meant to be a surprise for Nate. A pianist is necessary. It’s part of the arrangement.”
Oh, man. I want to say no, but I’m a total sucker when it comes to this girl. “Fine, what do you need me to play?”
She claps her hands together, beaming. “Your song,” she says.
“Okay, but you owe me big time,” I say, with a smirk.
She squeals and kisses my cheek. “Well, no time to think about it, you have like two minutes,” she says and points to the stage as she pushes me away.
I have no idea what I’ve just got myself into.
I make my way up the stage, loosening my cravat before taking a seat on a stool in front of the piano. I click my knuckles. My fingertips hover over the keys as I inspect the dance floor. No one is paying attention to me as they talk amongst themselves.
“Where’s Philip?” I turn on the seat as Sophie approaches, and can’t hold back my smile.
“Who?” I ask and glance behind me.
“The pianist,” she replies, clasping her hands in front of her.
Oh, right. I nod in understanding. “He had an accident,” I say with a shrug.
She points to the piano and then me. “So, what, you’re going to play?” She doesn’t say it condescendingly, more like she’s unsure.
I nod.
Squeezing her eyes tight, she licks her lips before she opens them again and stares at me, wide-eyed.
I get to my feet and approach her. “Don’t worry. I started playing when I was like four. It’ll be fine,” I say, trying to put her at ease. I have a piano—she’s even seen it. What, did she think it was just for show?
“But how will you know the arrangement?” she asks, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. My fingers twitch beside me, desperate to release it, my thoughts shift to my lips on hers. I observe the guests still caught up in conversations and dancing to the DJ.
“I’m sure I can pick it up,” I say, and sit back down, glancing to the sheet music in front of me. She follows. “I didn’t know you were going to sing,” I say.
“Yeah, well, I was blindsided. Kind of hard to say no to your best friend.”
She closes her eyes and takes a calming breath. Then she shakes out her hands before she wipes her palms down the front of her dress, moving so she’s in front of the microphone.
Her scent lingers, and I can’t help but breathe it in.
The DJ announces the first dance is about to take place. Felicity and Nate appear on the edge of the dance floor until the beam of light forms a white halo around them as they walk to the middle, hand in hand. All eyes on them.
I watch Soph as she screws the cap back on a water bottle and bends to place it on the floor beside her, and I can’t take my eyes off of her. She stares back and gives a firm nod before placing her hand around the microphone.
I smile and work my fingers over the keys. The notes echo in the now silent room until she begins to sing.
Entranced, I let her voice guide me as I play along. If I had to guess what an angel would sound like, it would be this. I’d choose her voice a thousand times over.
I continue to match her, note for note, and when she peeks back at me with a smile, I nearly come undone. She’s shiny, radiant, and she’s never been as beautiful as she is right now. And it’s not what she’s wearing, it’s what’s written all over her face—she’s at peace when she sings.
When she’s sung the last note, a massive round of applause erupts with cheers for Felicity and Nate. But when I stand and clap, it’s reserved solely for her.
She joins me by the piano as a song kicks in by the DJ, who asks all guests to join the married couple on the floor.
“Not too shabby,” I say. Leaning in, I kiss her on the cheek.
She turns to me and hugs me briefly before stepping back. I take her by the elbow to lead her off stage and onto the dance floor.
Sophie
I can’t believe I did it. I haven’t sung in front of a crowd—not since I was in the choir. When she first asked me if I would, everything in me wanted to say no. It was one of the few things I loved, but my parents took that away from me, too. How was I expected to go back to church as the token pariah? All I was to them was a huge disappointment. So, I never went back. And I missed it—more than my ex, and dare I say, even more than them.
But now, in their faces. They don’t hold the power, I do. I did it.
Just as we enter the edge of the dance floor, Charlie leans down, his warm breath tickling my ear. Then, with a whoosh, I’m grabbed from behind. I can’t contain the squeal which escapes my throat when I come face to face with Simon.
His smile reads only mischief as he pulls me into his arms, and then spins me out and pulls me back in again. Laughter bounces off his chest when he pulls me into his body.
“Beautifully sang,” he says, and pats my backside.
“Would you quit that, and you forget yourself,” I say as my eyes find Ryan, who raises his glass in my direction with a nod. “Your boyfriend is just over there.”
He pulls back and wiggles his eyebrows. “It’s one of the things I miss most about living in NYC… Winding you up,” he says.
And there it is—the lump in my throat, an ache in my chest—knowing as quickly as he arrived, he’ll be off again.
“Oh, come on, baby girl. Don’t look like that.”
I try to hide my face in his chest, but he pulls back.
“Like what,” I mutter, my throat scratchy.
His face sags. “You’re sad I have to leave soon. Me too, but as I said earlier, my offer is an open invitation.”
He’s right. I’m grateful he’s here at all. “I know,” I say right as he spins me expertly outward again; those dance lessons his mother used to drag him to really did pay off.
“So, what was it like? Kissing Charlie?”
I shake my head. He had to go there, didn’t he? I’m surprised it took him this long. It must’ve killed him—keeping quiet during dinner—but he’s a food man, and I swear he has hollow legs.
I feign ignorance. “Like kissing my brother,” I say, followed by a fake gag.
He twirls me. “I don’t believe you,” he says, holding his stare.
“Fine. Do you want the truth?”
He raises his eyebrows. Just thinking about the kiss has me all hot and flustered again. “It was nice. Like, really nice…and…hot.” My stomach warms at the thought, and I almost want to squeeze my legs together.