Our Little Secret Read online

  “You are, my fire,” I started in my lowest voice.

  “The one, desire,” I said and found myself looking directly at Lukas.

  I felt flirty and sexy in my skinny jeans and boots. I felt like I was the hottest girl in the room with the way he was looking at me. I belted out the lyrics, steadily growing louder as I got into the groove.

  “Am I your fire?” I sang to him. “Your one desire.”

  I swore I saw him nod, but maybe I was crazy. Maybe the smoldering bedroom eyes I saw watching me were all in my head. Maybe it was the alcohol. He was looking at me like I was his desire. Damn, what it would be like to have a man like him.

  I managed to keep in time with the music as I sang the lyrics. I couldn’t have him. We both worked at the university. No fraternization. No hooking up with the professor of finance or whatever he was. The doctor of finance.

  “I want it that way!” I sang at the top of my lungs. It was a song I knew by heart and had plenty of practice singing. I thought I sounded great, but I wasn’t a music major. I didn’t know shit about pitch or anything else.

  I leaned into the music, singing my heart out and ignoring the many eyes of my colleagues. It was fun and freeing. It felt good to just let it all go. When the song started to wind down, I focused on Lukas once again. I loved the way he was looking at me. But I shouldn’t. I could not let myself have any fantasies about the hot professor. We were professionals.

  The song ended and there was an outburst of applause and cheers. I felt my cheeks turning bright red as I handed the microphone back to the karaoke manager. “Thanks,” I said.

  “Come back anytime.” He laughed. “You’re a natural.”

  “I’ll need another drink to do that.”

  “That’s the way it’s supposed to work,” he joked.

  I walked back to my little table and sat down. Lukas was looking at me with a huge smile. “Wow,” he said.

  “Is that wow, you are absolutely crazy, or a wow, you really suck?” I asked with a laugh.

  My drink was empty and I was thirsty. I picked up my glass and sucked down the last few drops. “I’ll be right back,” he said and left the table.

  “You inspired me,” someone said.

  I looked up and saw a middle-aged woman with glasses smiling at me. “I inspired you?”

  “I was just telling my husband I wanted to sing a song. I love karaoke. He told me to go for it, but I was too afraid. I thought everyone would laugh at me. I didn’t think this crowd knew how to have fun. But you changed my mind. Glenda is going up now and then I’m going up next. Good for you. We need young people like you to remind us we’re here to have fun.”

  I smiled at her. “Thank you. I have to admit there was a little liquid courage involved.”

  She held up a glass filled with dark liquid. “I’ve got that part covered.”

  “Good luck,” I told her.

  “I’ll need it.” She giggled. “You’re very talented.”

  I laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

  Lukas returned with a bottle of water and another mixed drink for me. “Thank you,” I said and took a drink of water first.

  “That was impressive,” he said.

  “Stop,” I said with a wave of my hand. “I used to do karaoke all the time. Then I got old.”

  He snorted. “Oh yeah, you’re definitely hitting the age when you’ll need a walker.”

  “I blame it on the alcohol,” I claimed.

  “You did great,” he said. “That was pretty damn good.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I think the alcohol has warped your ears.”

  “Not at all. Nice song by the way.”

  I wasn’t even a little embarrassed that I had so openly flirted with him. At least I thought it was open. I wasn’t exactly a master flirter and could have just looked like an idiot up there.

  “Thanks,” I said. “What song are you going to sing?”

  “That’s not going to happen,” he said.

  “Why not? Don’t tell me you don’t like music?”

  “I listen to music,” he said. “I don’t sing. I don’t play.”

  “You don’t sing in the shower?” I pushed.

  He shrugged. “I don’t think I do.”

  “What kind of music do you listen to?” I asked.

  I needed to be careful. I was treating this like a date. It wasn’t. I was building a friendship. That was what this little flirty thing was. We were getting to know each other so we could be friends. This was legal. It was encouraged. That was why the mixer was put together in the first place.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I don’t know that I’ve ever paid attention.”

  “Do you have a car?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you sit in silence in your car when you’re driving home?” I pressed.

  He laughed. “No. I think it’s tuned to just a local pop station I guess. Like Top 40 stuff.”

  “Do you listen to country?” I asked.

  He wrinkled his nose. “Some. Not much.”

  “He has a catalog up there,” I told him. “I’m sure we could find a song you know and like.”

  He slowly shook his head. “Nope. No way. You are not going to get me up there.”

  I grinned. “Challenge accepted.”

  He laughed and took a drink. “Good luck. You looked like a pro up there. I take it you do this a lot.”

  “No!” I laughed. “In college, I used to go to a karaoke bar, but that was a long time ago. I have not done that in a long time.”

  “You looked like you were having a good time,” he said as someone took their turn at the mic. Screeching cats probably would have had more harmony than the three women trying to sing a Celine Dion song.

  “It was fun. You really have to try it. Have you ever done that before?”

  “Hell no,” he said. “Not even on my drunkest day.”

  I was going to get him up there. I wanted to see the suit let loose. I noticed he had loosened his tie a little. I wanted to see him really relax. “What did you do for fun when you were in college?” I asked.

  “I was on the swim team,” he said. “It’s how I paid for school. If I wasn’t studying, I was training.”

  That explained his fine physique. “Ah, I bet that was a lot of work. How did you manage to do both?”

  “I didn’t really have much of a social life,” he said. “I figured I would get to it once I got to where I wanted to be.”

  “Are you where you want to be now?” I asked.

  He slowly nodded. “I’m feeling closer to the goal, but I’ve still got a few more things I want to accomplish.”

  “Won’t you always have goals?” I asked him. “Do you plan on being in the holding pattern for long?”

  He chuckled. “Now you sound like Brad. What about you? Do you feel like you’ve reached your goals enough to start pursuing the other half of the American dream?”

  “Are you referring to the picket fence, golden retriever, and two point two kids?” I said with a laugh.

  “Maybe something like that.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not a goal. I’m just living life. This is going to go against everything you believe, but I’m not very goal orientated. I like to enjoy what life has to offer. I don’t really have a set goal. I made it to the one goal I had.”

  “To be a professor?”

  I smiled. “To make a living doing what I love. I love art and I like teaching. When you combine the two, it’s a pretty good combo. I’m happy. I like what I do. I have lots of time to paint when the mood strikes.”

  “I guess that’s all anyone can ask for,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Happiness.”

  “Are you happy?” I asked. I felt like it was a very deep conversation for a casual acquaintance, but he opened the door.

  “I am. I think. I’m not not happy. I just like to have goals. When I reach a goal, I get happy.”

>   “What’s your goal?” I asked. When he hesitated, I realized I had taken it a little too far. “I’m sorry. That’s probably private.”

  “No, it’s fine. I want tenure.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Tenure? Here?”

  “I like this school,” he said. “Here is the goal.”

  “Wow. You would be one of the youngest tenured professors.”

  He laughed. “That might be an offshoot of my goal, but it isn’t a make or break it. I’m working toward tenure. That doesn’t mean I expect it tomorrow or next semester.”

  “Ah, but you are expecting it sooner rather than later.”

  He shrugged. “It would be nice.”

  He was a driven man. I wasn’t going to call him a stick in the mud, but there was definitely some areas to improve the fun a bit. “Pick a song,” I said. “Me and you, we’re going to duet.”

  “No, no, no,” he said. “I’m not singing.”

  “It’s not really singing,” I said. “It’s having fun with a microphone in your hand.”

  “And singing.”

  “We’re not singers. We’re just having fun. Big difference.”

  He took a long drink from his glass. “I don’t know any song.”

  “How about Elvis? Everyone knows Elvis.”

  He grimaced. “Not so much.”

  I sighed. “We could do the default. Everyone does it, but it’s an easy one.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Sonny and Cher.”

  He groaned. “Yeah, no thanks.”

  “Okay, I’m going to pick one and you have to go with it,” I said. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Uh, why?”

  “Because then I can guess what kind of music you grew up listening to.”

  “My family is from Texas,” he said.

  I slapped my hand on the table. “I knew it! You had that country vibe. We’re doing Garth. Everyone can do Garth.”

  He didn’t immediately shoot it down. “Sit tight,” I told him. “I’m going to get our name on the list.”

  It was fifteen minutes before it was our turn. We both finished our drinks and were armed with enough liquid courage to belt out a classic. “Ready?” I asked him.

  He had taken off his suit jacket and left it draped over a chair. It was a good opportunity to check out his body. He even ditched the tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. I was going to have him swinging from the chandeliers soon.

  We somehow managed to very clumsily make our way through our own version of “Friends in Low Places.” It wasn’t in key, and it wasn’t even on time, but it was a hell of a lot of fun. I loved watching him laugh as he struggled to keep up with the words. His eyes were flashing with laughter. I was certain this was the most fun he’d had in a while. I could be wrong, but I was going to take the credit for loosening up the stiff suit that I met just a few short days ago.

  8

  Lukas

  “Let’s do another,” I said as we stepped off the small stage.

  He looked at me with surprise. “What? Really?”

  “Let’s get a drink and mull over what song we’re singing next,” I said. “Sit. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Brad grabbed my arm before I could reach the bar. “Woah!” he said. He was obviously just a little drunk.

  “Woah,” I repeated. “You should slow down.”

  “I’m not the one up there making a fool of myself.” He laughed. “You sing. I never would have thought.”

  “I don’t sing,” I said. “I did a little karaoke. Not the same.”

  “I see you are making headway with the art teacher,” he said.

  “We’re having a good time,” I said. “Nothing more.”

  “Yeah, she practically crawled all over you,” he said. “The way she was looking at you was pretty revealing. She wants you.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m going to get a drink. We’ll be singing again. Watch the show.”

  “I’m going to see if they have earplugs.”

  I wasn’t offended. I was pretty certain I sucked. I didn’t care. I was enjoying myself. That wasn’t something that happened all that often. I ordered us two more drinks and two waters. I wasn’t interested in getting completely sloshed.

  “How about something a little different?” River said when I walked back to the table.

  She was flipping through the book of songs. “Pick whatever you want. I’ll do my best. I’ll be your backup singer. You are the real star.”

  She took the offered drink. “I don’t know,” she said. “You were getting your groove on up there. I think there’s a little cowboy in you.”

  “I will never wear Wranglers,” I told her firmly.

  Her brows bounced. “I bet you could rock a pair of Wranglers,” she teased.

  “I prefer to have a little freedom, if you know what I mean.”

  She blushed before laughing. “I think I do, and while I can’t say I know from personal experience, I’ll take your word for it.”

  She picked a song but didn’t tell me what it was. I really didn’t care. It wasn’t like I was trying to win a Grammy. When it was our turn, she grabbed my hand and led me onto the stage. “I know this song,” I said when I saw the title pop up.

  It was a steamy song with a little Cuban flavor. She carried the song while I was essentially her prop. I knew the chorus and was able to sing along while she put her hand on my shoulder and shimmied her body next to mine. It was extremely tempting to grab her and grind myself against her body.

  I didn’t pay attention to any of the people watching us. It was just me and her. Her eyes were locked on mine as we sang. “I love it when you call me señorita,” I belted out. I didn’t care the lyrics were cheesy. I didn’t give a shit about anything except what was happening right there on that stage. I could feel the heat between us.

  When the song was over, I was bummed. I was ready to do another one. “I need a drink,” she said and fanned her face.

  I grabbed her hand and led her to our table. I was going to take full advantage of holding her hand whenever I could. “That was fun,” I told her. “It really was. I didn’t think it would be. Thanks for showing me a good time.”

  “Absolutely,” she said. “I knew you would have fun if I got you liquored up enough.”

  “Ah, now I understand your nefarious motives.” I laughed.

  “You’ve really never done that before?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “You’ve never had a girlfriend that wanted you to do that with her?” she pressed.

  “Nope,” I said and slowly shook my head. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

  She leaned forward with her chin resting in her palm. “I like secrets.”

  “I’ve never really had a girlfriend.”

  Her eyes widened and then narrowed. “Liar.”

  “I’m not lying,” I said. “Honest. Women have not fit into my life plan.”

  She gave me a funny look. “Does that mean—”

  “No. I like women. I just don’t have the time to do the whole dating thing. I’m focused on my career. Throughout school, I focused on being at the top of the class.”

  “And swimming,” she said.

  I nodded. “And swimming. I thought I could do the girlfriend thing, but after about two months, I realized I didn’t have the energy.”

  She giggled. “She was demanding of your, uh, time?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Not just my time. I realized I wasn’t ready for the effort it took to maintain a relationship. Some days I would work and study almost twenty hours a day. I would forget to call. I would never want to make plans for the weekend. Turns out, ladies like to actually see and speak to their boyfriends.”

  “Imagine that.” She laughed.

  “What about you? Do you have a long line of jilted lovers in your past?”

  “Nope,” she said with an exaggerated shake of her head. “I p
robably had the time but I wasn’t all that interested in the pursuit. It took too much energy. I wanted to paint. I wanted to go to museums and all that stuff. Then it was like a big thing.”

  “So we’re two bachelors,” I said.

  “I suppose we are. Bachelors have more fun.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Do they?”

  “Seems like it,” she said. “Look around. The married people are still chatting and look bored. They look like they are ready to go home and go to bed.”

  “We were in that category an hour ago,” I reminded her.

  “And then we got drunk,” she said with a laugh.

  “Yes, I suppose that helped.”

  “Do you want to do another one?” she asked.

  “Another one?”

  “Song! Are we going to tackle Sonny and Cher? Wait, no, we’ll do Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper. Come on, I love that song.”

  “I don’t know what that song is, but it sounds difficult,” I said.

  She popped out her bottom lip. “One more song.”

  How could I deny that pout? She was too damn sexy.

  I was usually good. I never let myself get mixed up with women. Women were distractions. They tended to get in the way of my end game. But River was different. I couldn’t explain exactly what it was, but there was definitely something about her that made me want to make the time to be with her.

  “One more song, but I’m not sure I know this song you are asking me to sing,” I warned.

  She grinned. “You’ll know it when you hear it,” she said and jumped up. “I’ll see where we are in the lineup.”

  I watched her bounce toward the DJ. Damn, I wanted her. She was animated as she talked before turning around and giving me a thumbs-up. She stopped and talked to someone before making her way back to the table.

  “I hope you’re ready for this,” she teased.

  “I’m ready,” I said. And it had nothing to do with the song. I watched her as she clapped for the teacher who had just given one hell of a performance. Not a good one by any means, but with the amount of alcohol flowing through the place, no one seemed to care.

  I was becoming an old pro at the singing thing. I did my best but the song was not one I was familiar with. I realized how out of touch with the times I really was. Everyone was singing along. Everyone. I was the only dude struggling to keep up with the song. She was pretty much on her own and I was just the dude swaying behind her.