Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)(17)

“Yeah, we’ll take a sampling of all your appetizers,” AJ replied.

As Billie Jean left to fill our orders, Abby gaped at AJ. “You’re serious about ordering after you eat all those appetizers?”

He grinned. “You have to watch out when I’m really hungry, Angel.”

“With my brothers, I should expect no less, right?”

“You bet.”

Brayden tapped Abby’s menu. “Order anything and everything you want. Dinner is on me tonight.”

“No, you don’t have to do that.”

He smiled. “I don’t have to, but I want to.”

“Okay then. I’ll let you this one time,” she replied.

Billie Jean returned with our beers and Abby’s Diet Coke and began taking our orders. “I’ll have the double cheeseburger, fries, and a side order of baked beans,” Abby said before handing her menu to Billie Jean.

“You’re seriously going to eat all that?” I asked.

She grinned. “I’m starved. I might even order dessert too.”

When AJ started to open his mouth to say something I could imagine suggestive about Abby and dessert, she pointed a finger at him. “Don’t even go there. It’s you, me, and karaoke time.”

He laughed. “I’m good with that.” AJ swept out of his chair and followed Abby to the stage. Only a few other patrons, mainly truckers, were sitting in our section, sipping beer and eating burgers. They didn’t look like they gave two shits about AJ and Abby’s performance.

As he started going through the song selection book, AJ grimaced. “Dude, this shit is like all from the 70’s and 80’s,” he groaned.

“With the looks of this place, did you actually expect some of our stuff to be on there?” I called.

AJ shot me a dirty look before going back to the book of music.

“Ooh, what about this one?” Abby suggested as she pointed her finger at the book.

AJ’s dark brows furrowed. “Islands in the Stream. You gotta be freakin’ kidding me!”

“Please. I love Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers.” She poked her lip out at AJ before saying, “I’m supposed to be part country singer, remember? It’s in my blood.”

“Well, I love Dolly Parton’s—” AJ began before Abby playfully smacked his arm.

“¡La próxima vez que te pegue en las bolas!”

He held his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. I don’t want you nailing me in the balls, rather than the arm!”

“Thank you.”

“So for you, Angel, Islands in the Stream it is, but I’m going to be reading off the screen for everything but the chorus.”

“That’s okay,” Abby replied, nodding at the DJ. She then passed AJ a microphone before taking one for herself. “Okay, AJ. Wow me.”

He winked at her. “Oh, I plan on it.”

The music started up, and AJ peered at the screen to begin singing his opening part. “Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown. I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb.”

As his voice echoed through the room, Abby’s brows shot up and her mouth dropped, and I could tell she was surprised as hell that he could really sing and hadn’t been bullshitting her. She then began harmonizing with him when Dolly’s part came on. When they got to the chorus that was familiar to AJ—mainly because we used to jam to Mya/JZ remix Ghetto Superstar, he inched closer to Abby. AJ had a gift for improvising, and he was really getting into singing about making love with Abby. She possessed the same gift as he did, and I was impressed with her performance ability, even in the dingy diner’s karaoke bar. She had future star written all over her.

Several of the truckers sitting around us took notice of the performance. Well, I guess I should say they mainly took notice of the hot little number in the white sundress intertwining herself with the douchebag she was singing with.

Not enjoying the way I was feeling about what I was seeing, I rose out of my chair. “I gotta go take a leak,” I muttered before escaping to the bathroom. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did I give two shits about Abby performing with AJ? I mean, she had made it damn clear she wasn’t going to give any of us the time of day. As I washed my hands, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

“Get a grip, dude. You do not want to get entangled with her,” I muttered.

“Huh?” some guy in a stall asked.

“Nothing,” I grumbled before exiting the door.

Thankfully, when I came back from the bathroom, Abby and AJ were no longer singing and had rejoined the table. Since the appetizers had arrived, we started attacking them. Abby did a pretty good job putting some away as well. Once they were devoured, we waited anxiously for our main courses to arrive. I cut my eyes over to where Abby twirled the straw in her Diet Coke. A question popped into my mind, and I acted on it. “So Abby, you’re twenty-one and legal, don’t you drink?”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, before taking a dainty sip of her Diet Coke.

“So caffeine is your only illicit substance?” I implored with a smirk.

With a shrug, she replied, “I guess so.”

“Ever tried a beer?”

She eyed my frothy mug and wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you.”