Sparks Fly (Davis Brothers Book 1)

by Nicole Douglas

“I think,” He rises to his feet and takes a step toward me. “That you’re going to be the most gorgeous woman in Blue’s.”

  I smile in relief, happy I don’t look like a stripper with the heels and the lipstick and the tits busting out. I catch Chris smiling softly to himself as he listens to us talk. It’s a look I haven’t seen from him before.

  He quickly recovers from the whimsical expression.

  “Come on.” Chris urges as he heads out the front door. “I’m ready to find the second most gorgeous girl at Blue’s and nail her in the car.”

  “You are not fucking some random bar fly in my car.”

  “Okay. A blowjob in the bathroom stall then. Either way let’s go.”

  Chris stomps down the steps and climbs in Max’s backseat. Max turns to me shaking his head in obvious disapproval of his brother. “Sorry about him. He’s a fucking barbarian.”

  I laugh. “It’s ok.”

  “It’s really not.” We step outside and he locks the front door.

  “He’s just joking.”

  “No. He’s not.” He assures me, tossing a look over his shoulder for added emphasis.

  “He has a wall up. Keeps everyone at a distance by being crude.”

  “He has something, alright. I’m thinking aspergers. Turrets. Maybe a personality disorder.”

  I smack his stomach as we descend the steps together. “He does not.”

  We climb in the car and change topics for the drive to Blue’s. I mentally go over the five songs I’m set to sing tonight, practicing the lyrics in my head while Max and Chris banter back and forth the way only brothers do.

  Not having a brother or sister leaves me partially in the dark while watching their interactions. I have no reference to relate back to or decide if their bitterness toward each other is common. No one in my life comes close to being sibling-like. Not even a best friend from childhood I grew up with.

  No cousins.

  Nada.

  I was more of a tumbleweed, blowing through life solo and not staying in one place for good. Other than my parents I wasn’t incredibly close to anyone. Reina had been a drinking buddy and now she wasn’t even that.

  The thought was almost depressing. No one in my life truly knew me in all aspects and facets of my soul. Someday I hoped to find that. Sometimes I feel like I could open myself fully to Max. That maybe I’m already starting to against my will and my better judgment.

  As soon as we get to Blue’s I give Max a quick kiss goodbye and head behind the stage to find the owner’s son who is running the bar tonight.

  Ryan Blue is hunched over his desk, sifting through a mountain of paperwork when I walk in.

  “Hey Ryan. What time do I go on?”

  “Whenever you’re ready. Once you do the cover songs I’ll open the stage for karaoke, just like last week.”

  “Ok. Sounds good to me. I’m ready now. Let me just set up the music. I chose some songs that won’t be in the book.”

  He gives up on the impossible stack of paperwork and looks up at me. “They’re going to love it. The crowd was really drawn to you last weekend. I’m guessing a lot of them came back tonight to see you again.”

  “Thank you Ryan.” I feel a blush spread across my cheeks at the compliment.

  I never expected anyone to enjoy my voice enough to go out of their way to return this weekend to hear it again. Singing was just a fun way to double my income while I finished my social work degree.

  The crowd and Max being in the audience put some pressure on me. But that was okay. I manage just fine under pressure.

  “It’s true Lacey. You brought me quite a bit of business tonight. I’ll need your help waitressing when you’re done if you’re up for it.”

  “Of course! That would be great.”

  “I know a hundred dollars a night isn’t much for performing but if we keep boosting business like this I might be able to pay you more.”

  I smile my gratitude and excuse myself to the small space behind the stage. Feeling nervous, I shake out my hands and take a deep, calming breath.

  I plug my phone into the speaker system and sequence the five songs I’ve selected, asking Ryan to press play on each of the songs when I cue him. He agrees and at that I make my way to center stage.

  My eyes slowly adjust to the bright lights shining on the stage and I find Max sitting at the bar. He’s leaning on his stool in a casual stance, closest to the stage. I smile at him before stepping forward and grabbing the mic.

  My nerves settled the moment I spotted him and I’m ready to let the music flow through my body.

  He’s as effective as a benzodiazepine. The energy that always hovers when he’s near shoots through my veins. It both invigorates and calms me like my own personal drug.

  Not many patrons are paying me any attention yet. I take the time to suck in a deep breath and pull the mic from the stand. Ryan presses play on the first song and music fills the busy bar.

  Chapter 20

  Max

  The first song Lacey sings doesn’t garner much notice. She announced the name of the song as I Am Not Nothing by Beth Crowley. I haven’t heard of the singer but the song draws me in just the same. It’s as if she’s sharing a piece of herself in each word.

  I can hear the emotion in her voice as she sings about being under someone’s thumb. Abused and trapped. I know it’s about David. It’s as poetic and meaningful as if she wrote each lyric.

  Only I knew why she chose this song. That knowledge felt strangely intimate. I watched her close her eyes and pour out her soul into the microphone. To bleed out the pain she experienced.

  This was her therapy and I felt immensely relieved that she found an outlet. Even if I was the only one in this crowded bar that recognized the place in her heart this song came from.

  The need to go to the stage and embrace her was almost overwhelming. She needed to know I was here for her. I hold back the urge to go to her, resolved to letting her know when she’s finished with her set.

  When she ends the song I can see her eyes shimmering with unshed tears but they never fall. Several people in the bar have taken their drinks to tables facing the stage.

  A new melody fills the bar and Chris nudges me from the next stool over. “She’s fucking good.”

  “She is.” I agree. I’m unable to tear my eyes away from her even for a brief second.

  He shifts on his barstool so he’s facing the stage too and rests his beer bottle casually on his thigh. She announces that the next song is called DNA by another artist I don’t know. I love that she finds this unknown music and introduces so many people to something new.

  She sings of a shit childhood and I know this one can’t be about her. In fact it feels like she’s speaking directly to me.

  “Eyes like yours, can’t look away…but you can’t stop DNA.”

  Her voice balms the slice so deep inside me I’ve managed to convince even myself it’s not there. But it is. And she can see it, no matter how hard I try to hide it from her.

  “Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I’m just so scare you’re who I’ll be.”

  How this girl manages to work her way within and heal me from the inside out is astounding. I glance at Chris and he’s just as hypnotized by the lyrics as I am.

  “I won’t be…No I won’t be like you. I’m fighting back the truth.”

  Applause sprinkles around the bar as she finishes her last note.

  The scars my father cut run deep. They’ll never go away no matter what I do. But I’ve spent so many years trying to escape the idea of turning into him and here Lacey was summing up my life fear into a few beautifully delivered lines.

  She couldn’t have chosen a better song to summarize my life if she actively searched through every music store in town. Every billboard chart.

  “Thank you.” She beams. “That was DNA by Lia Marie Johnson you guys. Next up I’ll be covering Michael Schulte’s You'll Be Okay.”

  A soft piano ballad begins play
ing. I stay in place mesmerized by her movements, her voice, damn near everything about her.

  The smooth melody captivates the entire bar one person at a time until everyone is silently listening to her beautiful voice. Her vocals rise and fall with a smooth flow that rivals professionals.

  If she wanted a career in this, singing daily for crowds, she could have it. I could see her opening for a chart topping band. But all she wanted was to enjoy her music and finish her degree. She wanted to be a social worker to help children and that was exactly what she would end up doing.

  I had no doubt.

  I loved that about her. Loved that she wasn’t chasing the glory of what her voice could bring her. She was chasing the feelings it tapped into. The peace it brought.

  Again I feel as if she’s speaking directly to me. She looks dead in my eyes across the crowded space, deep into my soul as she sings her heart out. So much emotion filters through her voice. I can see the feeling shining in her eyes as she emphasizes each word.

  This round of applause is monstrous compared to the ones before it. The crowd cheers and screams and whistles. More people moved to the front of the stage, opting to stand when the chairs filled. They just wanted to be close to her and the energy she radiated.

  I knew the feeling.

  She grabs a water bottle resting by her feet and takes a long drink. “Next up is Natalie Taylor’s Come To This.”

  This one gets my thoughts drifting to my mom as Lacey sings of loss and grief. What the fuck is wrong with me and when did I turn into such a damn sap?

  It’s eerie how close these lyrics speak of my mother. I catch Chris from the corner of my eye quickly swiping his eyes and passing it off as rubbing out an eyelash, looking at his finger and everything as if inspecting it.

  He squeezes past me and disappears in the crowd of packed bodies, heading for the door. He needs some fresh air otherwise known as a smoke break.

  I zone out from this song and feel disconnected from my surroundings as she introduces the final song of her performance. It’s called Battle Cry and she ends the show on an upbeat, empowering note. She sounds as amazing as ever but my mind has floated far away, to a time I’m better off forgetting.

  I force the vivid memories from surfacing.

  Her music selections touched too many exposed nerve endings in my heart and soul. It left me feeling raw. It left a dull ache in my chest that I can’t completely shove down. I feel…emotional. Out of sorts. It got me thinking about far too many subjects I spend a lot of time avoiding.

  My mom.

  My dad.

  Myself.

  Her.

  This unrecognizable emotion she was making me feel. This thing between us was growing against all odds into something deeper and more stunning than I ever dreamed of deserving.

  Do I deserve Lacey? Hell if I know. But I want to deserve her desperately and profoundly.

  That had to count for something.

  When the song ends she hangs up the mic, thanks the audience and hops off the side of the stage heading straight for me. The closer she gets the more I can make out her beaming features. She radiates excitement and exhilaration. Even though I still feel shaken and off balance I’m happy as hell for her.

  “You were amazing, Lace. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” She beams brighter. “It feels so good to sing again.”

  The next brave soul steps on the stage, ready for karaoke. Anyone would have a tough act to follow after Lacey’s performance. This is a Grade A party girl that’s clearly had too much to drink and is about to make an ass of herself while her friends egg her on.

  I turn away from the stage and order another beer. Chris never came back from outside and I begin to wonder if he’s left altogether. The bartender slides my bottle across the bar and I catch it easily.

  “I have to waitress tonight. I can catch an Uber home.”

  “How late will you be here?”

  “Closing time.”

  I nod. “I’ll hang around. That’s only a couple hours.”

  “Are you sure?” She asks with uncertainty.

  “Positive.”

  Just then Chris strolls back inside with a blond hanging on his arm.

  “Looks like you’re on your own tonight.” She comments with a smirk at the sight of him and his conquest-to-be.

  “Thank God.” I laugh. “It’s about time he gets laid. I’m sick of hearing him complain about it every day.”

  She scrunches her nose at the thought but is too busy behind the bar digging out her black apron to respond.

  With a quick kiss to my cheek she disappears in the crowd, heading for the cluster of tables on the far side of the room. I watch her through the breaks in the crowd as she laughs and takes drink orders, writing on her small notepad.

  She sidesteps drunk guys that get too touchy feely and politely smiles at bold flirts without giving them any inkling they have a chance with her.

  The damndest thing is she doesn’t even know I’m watching. She isn’t just turning them down because she knows she’s being watched. Never sends any of the guys a private wink or slips them her number on a folded page from her notebook.

  I know because I watch her aptly, finding it hard to look away.

  Jealousy burns in me knowing I’m not the only one noticing her. I can see the eyes on her around the room. I fight the urge to walk over and drape an arm across her shoulders, marking my territory.

  She’s at work. I need to remember that.

  This sure as hell feels like a commitment between us. I hadn’t yet verbalized that, or even admitted it to myself until this moment, but I don’t need the words to be spoken to recognize this for what it is.

  My subconscious already knew it when I turned down Natalie. When jealousy sparked over Chris staring at her legs a little too long and too often. And again today watching these drunken idiots smiling at her and trying to touch her arm as she writes their order, thinking they have a chance.

  Time passes. My thoughts wander. The energy shifts around me and I’m pulled back to the present.

  Chris is next to me ordering a drink and smelling faintly of perfume and sex. He waits until I acknowledge him with a small nod before he speaks.

  “What’s on your mind, bro?”

  “Nothing.”

  He’s clearly not buying it but doesn’t argue. “Where’s your girl?”

  “She’s not my girl.”

  I wish she was.

  “Yeah. Sure.” He sounds thoroughly unconvinced and unimpressed. “Where’d she go?”

  “She’s waitressing tonight. I’m waiting on her to get off.”

  “When?”

  “Two.”

  “Can I borrow the car real quick?” He looks down at his phone and back up at me.

  “For what?”

  He sighs impatiently. “I need to meet up with someone. Make a sale.”

  Now it’s my turn to sigh in irritation. “What kind of fucking sale?”

  “You know what kind.” He pats his pocket discreetly under the bar.

  Drugs.

  I hesitate but ultimately pull the keys from my pocket and hand them over. “Make it fast.”

  Taking the keys without another word, he leaves the bar. The girl he fucked earlier probably told him about a friend looking to buy. He had been glued to his phone ever since.

  Chris always did mix business with pleasure.

  He was back within twenty minutes handing me my keys and ordering another beer. I thought about grabbing a table so Lacey was forced to stop by every now and then to check on us but decided against it. I didn’t want to create any more work for her just because I felt needy all of a sudden.

  I was the one she was going home with at the end of tonight. I could bide my time.

  Chapter 21

  Lacey

  It’s my birthday.

  My parents made the five hour drive to take me to the nearest Red Lobster for dinner. A lot of people might not w
ant to spend their twentieth birthday with their parents but it’s been my birthday tradition since I was seven.

  Those cheddar biscuits are addictive.

  As we get ready to leave there’s another knock on the door. I’m surprised to find Max standing in my doorway with a bouquet of bright pink roses and a nervous smile.

  “Happy birthday, angel.”

  I recover from my surprise and step aside to let him in. “Thank you. I didn’t think you remembered.”

  He hadn’t texted me all day and I had barely mentioned my birthday in passing. I purposefully had it hidden on my social media accounts, not fond of the barrage of attention from people that otherwise ignored me year round.

  “I remember everything you tell me.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  He leans in for a kiss, not yet noticing my parents on the couch. Apparently it doesn’t end soon enough for my dad because he clears his throat. Max jumps in surprise, almost dropping the vase of roses.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Max, this is my mom,” I gesture to her and she waves sweetly. “And this is my dad.” I gesture to him as he stands up and reaches for a handshake. After a brief hesitation Max rushes to meet him in the middle of the living room and shakes his hand.

  He shoots me a nervous look and smiles back at my dad with confidence.

  “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  If I didn’t know him so well I would have thought he was perfectly at ease. But I could see the small hint of tightness around his mouth. His slightly stiff posture. The way he shoved his hands back in his pockets after shaking my dad’s hand.

  “Call me Ron.”

  “Ok. Ron. I was just dropping this off for Lacey.” He lifts the vase awkwardly and turns to set it down on the table.

  “Lacey didn’t mention a boyfriend. How long have you been seeing each other?”