Listen to Your Heart(7)

I shake my head. My arm is literally tingling where he’s touching me.

“You’re gonna love it.”

He’s right. I love it as soon as we step inside, because Dead or Alive’s You Spin Me Round (Like a Record) is streaming from the jukebox.

Totally appropriate. I do feel a little dizzy.

Without even realizing it, I start to sing along.

“Told ya.” Caleb grins and leads me to a table near the stage.

I’m surprised we get such a good spot, considering the place is already pretty packed. Caleb nods at the bartender before holding my chair out for me. His sweet politeness only causes my dizziness to get worse, so I thank him and take my seat before I fall and make a total fool out of myself.

A waitress appears to take our drink orders.

Caleb looks my way. “Skye?”

“Oh. Um, something diet.”

She nods and shoots Caleb a sexy grin before walking away. My eyes narrow.

“What’s wrong, Skye?”

He isn’t even looking at her. He’s looking at me, and it’s doing crazy things to my heart.

I come up with a lie. “You didn’t order a drink.”

“I’m here all the time and I always get the same thing. You’ll learn quickly that I’m pretty boring and predictable.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

He grins and hands me a menu. “I recommend the chicken tenders, but feel free to get whatever you like. Everything’s good.”

The band takes the stage to warm up just as the waitress returns. It gets a little loud, prompting Caleb to scoot his chair closer to mine. The waitress still tries to flirt, but when he doesn’t even notice—or at least pretends not to—she finally takes the hint and takes our orders before walking back to the kitchen.

I nod toward the stage. “So, which one is your friend?”

“The lead singer. His name’s Jesse. And before you ask, he absolutely refuses to cover Rick Springfield.”

“He’s missing a golden opportunity there,” I reply, nodding toward the group of girls who are practically climbing over each other to get closer to the stage. “I bet somebody in that crowd would love to be Jesse’s girl.”

We smile at each other, and his eyes flicker down to my lips. We’re sitting so close, and it’d be so easy . . .

“I WANNA ROCK!”

Electric guitar chords rip through the air, causing us to jump as the band starts to play. The crowd goes wild as Jesse works the stage while he sings the Twisted Sister song. Talking is impossible, but the music’s decent, so it’s hard to be too disappointed. The waitress arrives with our food just as the song changes to one of my favorites.

Caleb leans close. “Quick. Name the song and artist.”

“Hold Me Now. Thompson Twins.”

“Impressive.”

I snort. It’s very unladylike but I don’t care.

“I have to warn you, Caleb. Stumping me on 80s music is gonna be tough, but good luck with that.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

With a grin, I shrug and take a bite of my chicken. Now that my nerves have somewhat settled, I’m actually pretty hungry.

“They’re good, right?”

I nod. “So what do you do when you aren’t teaching music to elementary kids?”

“I’m teaching music to high school kids. Told ya. Boring and predictable.”

“I don’t think that’s boring. I think that means you love what you do.”

Caleb nods thoughtfully. “I do, which surprises me, to be honest. I didn’t plan on teaching. Like most musicians, I just wanted to be in a rock band and be a songwriter. Aunt Carol was the one who convinced me to go to college, just to have something to fall back on in case the music business didn’t work out. Musicians can struggle for years. Most do. She knew that, which is why she encouraged me to get a degree in music education. At least I’m doing what I love, and I can still write. I can just do it without worrying about how I’m going to pay the rent.”

“The enrichment program should help with that.”

“I’m just volunteering to help out Aunt Carol. I love it, though. The kids are wicked talented, especially Eli.”

I smile proudly. “It’s been so good to see him excited about something. He’s been pretty numb since the divorce. I hate that my ten-year-old nephew has to deal with a crappy situation that’s completely out of his control.”

Caleb’s face falls.

“I know that feeling all too well,” he murmurs.

His voice is tinged with so much sadness that it nearly breaks my heart. Before I can ask what he means, he looks up at me and smiles.

“What about you? What do you for a living?”

This is always a tricky conversation. Whenever I tell a guy that I’m a wedding planner, it can sometimes—or in my case, always—give them the impression that I constantly have weddings on the brain. Which I do. It’s just other people’s weddings and not my own.

“My best friend and I run our own business.”

There. Vague but honest.

“Oh yeah? What kind of—”

Our waitress suddenly appears, and I couldn’t be more thankful for the interruption. She refills our drinks and asks if we’d like anything else before heading back to the bar. Caleb apparently forgets to finish his question because he starts asking me a million others.