Page 114 of Paparazzi Perfect
Shouts of encouragement rang out from the crowd.
“Folks, put your hands together for Ivy.”
The spotlight stayed fixed on her as the crowd chanted, “Ivy, Ivy” over and over.
Glancing around, she laughed and, with a small shrug, made her way toward me. When she reached the stairs, the security guard escorted her to the top.
My pulse quickened as she stepped onto the stage, and I tipped my face toward the sky mouthing,“Thanks.”
When I looked back at her, she was inching closer.
I held out my hand, and she slipped hers into it. The second my fingers closed around hers, my heart settled into a normal rhythm. When she looked at me, a thrill traveled up my spine.
Suddenly I could breathe. The world felt whole again.
“Karson,” she whispered, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
I wanted to drop to my knees, beg for her forgiveness. She was the only one I wanted. If she forgave me I’d be the happiest man on earth.
The crowd stomped their feet, whooped, and whistled, shouting calls of approval. Squeezing her hand gently, I raised our joined hands high as we turned to face them.
“Everyone, I can’t compete with the last act,” I said, chuckling, “but if you’ll allow me, there’s a song I’d like to sing. For Ivy.”
“C’mon!” someone hollered from the crowd.
“Let’s hear it,” another shouted excitedly.
Reluctantly, I let go of her hand, brushing the backs of my fingers lightly along her arm before walking toward the side of the stage.
I settled onto the bench of the grand piano, my hands hovering above the keys. I closed my eyes for a second and, taking a breath, pressed down softly.
Pale moonlight washed over everyone as it spilled from the sky as I played the opening notes of our familiar old song as my thoughts drifted back to the night we met. The words poured out of me, it was like déjà vu.
The warm look in her eyes unlocked all the love and passion I’d bottled up for so long, every note swept everything else aside.
Stepping closer, she brushed her fingers across my cheek.
As my fingers moved across the keys, she slid onto the stool beside me, and we sang the next verse together. Those beautiful green eyes found mine—just like the first night we met—and I knew I was exactly where I belonged.
She leaned against me and I fought the urge to tear my hands from the keys and wrap her in my arms.
Our eyes locked as the last notes fell from our lips, vanishing into the night. For a heartbeat there was silence. Then a few soft claps escalated into thunderous applause, splintered only by hoots of approval.
Turning to face her, I pulled her into my arms before we clung to one another.
My lips traced lightly across her cheek before drifting lower to her neck. Trembling, her back arched against the palm of my hand resting on her lower back.
I breathed in her fragrance—a warm, musky blend of cinnamon and vanilla—then lifted my face back to hers. Her breath warmed my skin as she inched closer and pressed her soft lips to mine.
The taste of her kiss was intoxicating, like a hit straight to my veins. My heart thundered as her arms tightened around me. I never wanted her to let go.
The crowd burst into wild applause as electricity crackled between us. Pulled from the vortex of our kiss, we turned toward them and dissolved into breathless laughter.
“Let’s dance,” she whispered. Taking my hand, she pulled me toward the stairs.
I grinned at Dyson, who leaned into the microphone, smiling at us as we hurried down the stairs.
“Thank you, Karson and Ivy… or should I say Romeo and Juliet?”
