Wrong Impression

14. 99 Bottles of Beer

Angie looked at him skeptically, not impressed by this piece of information and it got him curious. Because it meant she could either sing or she was leaving his ass there right then. "I take it you never had to pay?"

"Of course not, I sing like an angel."

She fortunately laughed, and before he could answer, the crowd started calling for him, giving him song suggestions. Okay, he could do this. He loved the spotlight. And he had an ace up his sleeve. Ever since he was little, he could control the tone and inflection of his voice so well that, with some practice, he'd developed another useful skill. Voice imitation. He had no trouble singing karaoke.

As he climbed on stage and started singing, his eyes never left Angie. She first smiled, then her eyes widened, then she looked at him in disbelief and her cheeks started to redden. He could totally pull off the singer's voice and reproduce it to its finest tone. And the crowd loved him for it. So as the song finished, he got his free beer pass.

Victorious, he strode back to the bar. After trying a lot of brands, he'd settled for Hainiken as his beer of choice, so he ordered one of those and sat in front of Angie. She just stared at him for a few seconds, then lowered her eyes and drummed her fingers on the bar.

"That was amazing," she finally said. "How can you change your voice like that?"

"Talent and practice. I can also throw my voice," he said, making it sound like he was talking from behind her.

She turned around, then back to him. "You're full of surprises."

"Why thank you! If you'd like, I could get you one, too."

"As much as I'd love to hear you sing again, hold my purse." She pushed a small backpack at him and hopped off her stool.

Tom watched her with wonder as she took the microphone and selected a song for herself. When she started singing, his jaw dropped. Her voice was gorgeous. And her confidence was extremely hot. She obviously liked to show off, too, and he'd never seen her so lively, that glint in her eyes. The crowd loved her. Of course they awarded her a beer. Hell, if the rule allowed it, they would've probably given her twenty.

She skipped off the stage and back to the bar, a huge grin on her face. God, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Any recommendations?" she asked.

Tom shook his head, trying to come to his senses. "Zatec. Granat. I think you'll love it."

She scrunched her nose at him. "Is that a disease or something?"

He laughed. "No. It's Czech beer. I tried it once. It's really good."

Angie nodded and went with his choice. He watched her marveling over the reddish beer, his chest warming up for some reason. What was going on? Why was she suddenly bathed in some sort of divine light? Why did he feel the need to hold her, run his hands through her hair? Kiss her. He desperately wanted to kiss her. Long and hard and inappropriate.

"This thing is delicious," she said, sipping her beer.

"Be careful. It packs more of a punch than regular beer," he warned. He needed another beer. A few more beers actually because his mind needed to numb down and become submissive again.

She smiled at him and the more she drained the glass, the more relaxed she became. For the first time since he met her, the strain in her posture relaxed completely and he could see her how she was supposed to be. Wild, free, happy.

"I want another beer," she said as the patrons booed the latest singer off the stage, denying him yummy free beer.

"Go for it, then." Tom waved his hand towards the stage.