Page 55 of The Lucky One
“Y-yes,” I stammered. He lifted off the blindfold—and I stared into the faces of at least a dozen people who started clapping.
I twirled around to Jon. We were on stage. They expected me to do something! “Jon, why are we here? What’s going on?”
He handed me his little black book. “A writer needs their audience.”
I let go of my breath. “You’re doing a reading here? That’s so great!”
“No.” Jon smirked. “You are.”
“What?!”
He opened the book. It was mine. He must’ve grabbed it in the car.
“Jon, are you crazy? I can’t read in front of all these people!” I sprinted behind the curtains for shelter. Tears shot into my eyes, the pressure rising in my chest like a mountain that was impossible to climb.
Jon grabbed my hand from behind. “Little German. You’re good.”
“No, I’m not! Not good enough to perform on a freaking stage!”
He stepped up, reaching for my face, but I looked to the side. “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he said. “No writer was born great. They all grew through practice. And right now is your moment to shine and gain that practice.”
I bit my lip. “What if they hate it?”
“I doubt it.”
“But what if?”
Jon sighed. “Then you never have to see them again. We’re out of town at a place nobody knows us.”
I scrubbed my face, my little black book pressed to my ribs. “Jon, I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Number 2 on your old list: Find confidence. You’ve come a long way, Little German. Tonight is your chance to embrace it. It doesn’t matter if it’s perfect or not.”
I sucked in a breath, my eyes drifting between the gap in the curtains to the microphone waiting on the stage.
“But if you want, we can leave and never look back,” he said. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want.”
Knowing I had that option made me calmer. “Okay.” I nodded. “I’m doing it, but under one condition.”
“Which is?” Jon’s eyebrow perked up.
“You’re doing it with me.”
“Deal.” He smirked, full of confidence, and offered me his hand. My admiration for him shot into the clouds, and my heart pounded like I was about to give a performance... which I was! Me! The shy little girl who never spoke her mind was stepping onto a freaking stage.
“I’m nervous.”
“I know, so am I. Pretend it’s just you and me, in the car watching the night sky. I love you, Little German.”
He kissed me.
The three little words I had been waiting for.
“I love you too.” I smiled between our kisses. My heart so full that I didn’t care about screwing up anymore.
“Say that again after we go on and I’ll show you how much I mean it,” Jon growled, and my heart went faster than humanly possible.
Our lips separated, and I caught a glance of a mirror to my right. “Wait!” I adjusted the collar of my knit sweater over my bra straps and ran my fingers through my hair, untangling the mess from the blindfold.