Rival(59)

“Sure.” The guy nodded without looking at me as he worked the machine. “Step on up.”

Doing as he said, I lifted my chin, took the mic with one hand, and stuck the other in the back pocket of my jeans. Whistles erupted around the room, and I turned to the table where my friends and enemy sat, seeing Jared and Tate turned around in their seats, smiling. Jax watched me, too, even though he had a waitress desperately trying to get his attention by bending down at his side to talk to him. I could see her cleavage from here.

Aidan had stayed at the table but stood up for a better view, and Madoc . . . well, Madoc was the red-hot blood in my veins. His f*cking mouth was plastered on the girl next to him, eyes closed, and I may as well not even have existed.

I ground my teeth together and tensed the muscles in my legs, staying pissed. I saw Tate look between Madoc and me and then stand up as the music started.

“Here you go!” rocker dude shouted.

I bounced the heel of my right foot up and down, finding rhythm with the fast-paced pop tune. Closing my eyes, I smiled, relishing in the thrill of getting lost. Bending my knees, I shimmied my body lower and back on up, bobbing my head in time to the music.

“You can dress me up in diamonds,” I sang, unable to contain the delicious fire racing through my body. Letting the lyrics pour out of me, I didn’t even need to look at the monitors. Too many times growing up I’d belted out the words to this song.

My voice low and chin tipped down as I sang the words, playing the crowd with my eyes, I looked over and smiled in surprise, seeing Tate jumping up on the stage with another microphone.

She pumped her fist in the air as we both shouted, “Ya make me wanna la la!”

The whole crowd of guys and girls went wild, jumping up and down and singing with us as I laughed and sang at the same time.

I completely lost sight of our table once the crowd got going, which was probably a good thing. I wasn’t so angry anymore, and I was thankful Tate got up there with me. It felt good to have someone on my side.

And even though I couldn’t see Madoc, I hoped he was watching. If his eyes were on me, then his lips weren’t on her.

“I see everything I want for as long as I can have it.”

He seemed so different now compared to the man who had spoken those words to me in June.

His cold demeanor was distant and silent, and I wasn’t sure if I came up here to prove something or to draw him out.

“La la la, la la la,” Tate and I kept singing, ending the song.

I bowed my head and then threw it back, swinging all of my hair out of my face. Tate hooked an arm around my neck and whispered, “He didn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time.”

My heart started pounding harder, and I wasn’t sure if it was that or the crowd’s cheers that were vibrating through my arms and legs.

I knew she was talking about Madoc, but I acted dumb anyway. “Aidan?” I asked.

She smirked at me knowingly. “No, you idiot. You know who I’m talking about.”

I refused to look over at the table, so I led the way off stage and wiped my fingers across my damp forehead.

Aidan emerged from the crowd on the dance floor and placed a hand on my hip. I stiffened as he leaned in to speak in my ear. “That was great! You’re a good singer.”

I offered a small smile and looked up when the surrounding speakers began playing regular music. The DJ announced a break, and couples wrapped their arms around each other and started dancing to the slow song.

“Would you like to dance?” Aidan shouted in my ear.

I looked around for Tate, who seemed to have disappeared, and I couldn’t see anything through the crowd. I decided this was a good way out, though. Not that there was anything wrong with Aidan, but I was done for the night.

“Sure,” I shouted back. “One before I head out.”

He grabbed my hand and led me into the middle of the mix, turning around to wrap his hands around my waist. He pulled me in, and I held his shoulders as we swayed to Green Day’s “21 Guns.”

“How do you know Madoc?” I asked.

“We’re on the team together.” His thumb was rubbing strokes on my back. “Although, he’s on the fast track. He’ll probably be captain next year,” he said, not looking particularly pleased.

Captain by sophomore year?

“He’s that good?” I asked. I’d never seen Madoc play soccer.

“No, he’s just that connected,” he shot back. “Madoc doesn’t have to earn a whole lot on his own.”