Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
I don’t think it’s the alcohol. He had two beers and one shot at dinner and he’s been nursing the same beer since we got here.
“You having a good time?” he asks me.
“I am. You were right.”
“You should sing a song with the girls.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Aw, come on. Bet you’d like it. Have you ever sung at a karaoke bar?”
“Me? No. Are you serious? Have you?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, guys,” the DJ says. “Up next, we have Bash and the Boyz. Spelled with a Z, which means this is either going to be really good or really bad.”
Bash removes his arm from around my shoulders. “That’s my cue.”
“What? You’re singing?”
He takes a long swig from his beer bottle. “Wish me luck.”
My jaw drops. “Okay...good luck? What are you singing?”
He winks at me. “You’ll see.”
Several of his teammates follow him onto the stage. I glance at Suki, who is grinning, her chin resting on her steepled hands as she looks at the stage. Harry and Mara both have their phone cameras ready to record.
Why does it feel like everyone except me knows what’s going on? I try to look like I’m in on the joke as Bash takes the mic from the DJ. Carter, Leo, Silas and Isaac gather behind him, all of them loose and happy from the shots they’ve been doing.
The opening notes to “Take On Me” by A-ha start playing. He’s singing an ’80s classic! I laugh, feeling giddy. Good thing Harry and Mara are immortalizing this in video—this song has some high notes.
He starts singing, and it’s possibly the funniest cover of a song I’ve ever heard. Bash’s voice is way too deep for this one, and he’s not a singer. But his eyes are locked onto me and he’s smiling confidently. I clap and cup my hands around my mouth, cheering for him.
Then he gets to the chorus. Instead of singing the words take on me, he sings, come to prom. My smile drops away. What is this?
His teammates are swaying back and forth with their arms around each other. Singing their part of the song with him right after his lyric, which is go to prom him.
“Get it, Bash!” Dex yells, clapping.
Every time he sings the chorus, he sings it the same way, come to prom. His teammates join him, all of them in a group, as Bash unabashedly belts out the highest notes of the song.
The entire bar is cheering for him. I’m laughing, but I also have tears in my eyes. There’s a massive knot in my stomach. Bash wouldn’t make fun of me. He wouldn’t. But still, I’m wondering if this song is him making fun of me asking him to prom.
Near the end of the song, he walks down from the stage and comes over to me. The whole bar is hooting and hollering as he gets onto his knees.
“Lane, I don’t just want to be your friend,” he says, his expression turning serious.
My heart hits the floor and I can’t help it—the tears roll down my cheeks.
“I want so much more,” he continues. “And I want to start by doing what I couldn’t do seven years ago. Will you go to prom with me?”
My jaw drops. I swipe my fingertips over my cheeks to clear them. Even though I don’t know what’s happening, I know this is the most shocking, absurd, amazing moment I’ve ever imagined.
“Prom?” I manage.
“Yeah. I’m having a prom just for you. And me. For us. All you have to do is say yes.”
He takes my hand in his, hope swirling in his eyes. I can’t believe this is real. It’s everything my younger self dreamed of. Actually, it’s more because Bash did this himself. I didn’t imagine it.
He wanted to. And he did.
“Yes.” I squeeze his hand. “I’ll go to prom with you.”
Everyone around us is yelling and cheering. Bash hands off the microphone and embraces me, my feet leaving the ground as he lifts me up so we’re eye to eye.
His lips are on mine. My heart backflips wildly as he kisses me. The kiss is soft and sweet, but there’s certainty, too. Like he’s been waiting forever for it and there’s no doubt in his mind.
I’m breathless and a little dizzy when he sets me back down, everyone around us still cheering.
“We’re going to prom?”
It’s September—not the right time of year to crash a high school prom. But Bash just rewrote the chorus to a classic ’80s song to invite me to one, so I can’t help wondering what’s in store.
He gives me that sexy grin I never really got over. “You bet your ass we are.”
He cups my cheek and kisses me again. I still feel like I’m in an alternate reality.
It’s happening, though. And if I have further doubts, there’s video evidence.