Free Winter (Four Seasons #1) by Nikita Rae Page B

to the booth. It’s a
short song so I only have to struggle through two more minutes of
Blackbird before it’s finally over and the screaming college girls
are doing what they do best again: screaming.
    “ He’s good,”
Noah says, slugging back some of his beer. The words themselves are
complimentary but his tone doesn’t necessarily marry up with
them.
    “ Yeah. He is.”
He really is. But why… why did he have to play that song?
    “ Encore!
Encore!” The body shot girls have clearly
had at least one more round of tequila and they don’t seem keen to
let Luke off the stage without another song.
    Noah laughs,
watching the scene play out with bemusement. “What is this,
fricken’ Madison Square Garden or something?”
    I risk a look
behind me and Luke is holding up his hands, doing his best to
navigate his way off the stage without offending anybody. Doesn’t
look like he’s going to be successful, however. The girls bar his
way, high-heeled feet tapping with expectation. Luke drops his
hands, resignation settling in on his face. He sits back down on
his stool. “All right, all right. One more song. Make it a cover,
though. You guys decide.”
    “ What can you
play?” someone shouts close by.
    Luke smiles,
his teeth flashing in a genuine smile. “Anything you
got.”
    “ Radioactive!”
the same guy calls.
    “ Yeah,
Radioactive!”
    “ Radioactive!”
    Luke just nods
his head. This time he doesn’t look down at his guitar. He lets his
eyes roam over the bustling bodies in front of him as he starts to
slam out a bluesy, raspy version of the popular Imagine Dragons
song. This performance is so different to the one I just witnessed.
That one was filled with tangible pain, while this one is playful
and electric. I get goose bumps when he mimics the part where Dan
Reynolds sings, ‘ breathing in the
chemicals’ .
    “ Food’s here,”
Noah says, drawing my attention back to the booth. Wow. I’ve been
staring at Luke and completely ignoring the guy who brought me
here.
    “ Sorry, I’ve
just never seen him sing before,” I apologize, as Claire drops our
burgers off at the table. She doesn’t spare either of us a
glance—Noah’s entirely forgotten. She’s too busy ogling
Luke.
    “ You known him
long?” Noah asks, picking up his burger.
    “ We grew up
together,” I say. “He’s older though, we never really hung out or
anything.”
    “ Hmmm. Another
Ohio local in the big bad city.”
    “ Huh?” I’m
inches away from blowing my cover completely when I begin to ask
him what he means. I remember just in time. I’m from Ohio now,
which means Luke now has to be from Ohio, too. Man, this is getting
complicated. We eat our food as the whole bar sings along to the
chorus of the song. When it’s done, people disperse and talk in
groups, ordering more drinks and food from the bar. I feel the
intense pressure of Luke’s gaze as he packs up his guitar and walks
silently out of O’Flanagan’s. He doesn’t even say
goodbye.
    The awkward
moment between Noah and I passes as soon as we leave the bar, and
he insists on walking me back to the apartment. He doesn’t hang
around for an invitation inside; he just leans forward and
carefully tucks a strand of hair gently behind my ear.
    “ You know,” he
says, “if I didn’t like you, now would be the time that I tried to
kiss you.”
    “ What?” I
can’t help but laugh, especially because of the fake serious look
he has trained on his face.
    “ Oh yeah,
that’s right. I’d be all over that if I didn’t like you. Kissing,
lip biting, hands everywhere, the works.” He wiggles his fingers at
me and winks.
    “ That’s…that
makes absolutely no sense,” I laugh.
    “ It totally
does,” he disagrees. “If I didn’t think you looked like some kind
a’ angel with all that blonde hair and your ridiculously cute nose,
I’d definitely be trying to sleep with you right now. But as it
stands, my hands and my lips are going to behave