The Girl Next Door - Emma Hart Page 0,47
her hair behind her ear and held up one finger. “Dad will kick them off the stage at this point, where they’ll all head to the bar and Tori will order two rounds of shots.”
“I like my odds here.”
“Yeah, well, settle down because nobody bet against you.” She stole my water and sucked on the straw at the corner of her mouth. “Adam and Josh will take the stage not long after and sing their absolutely freaking gut-wrenching rendition of the rhapsody where Tori will ultimately join to sing the high bits, then they’ll take a break.”
“What do they do then?”
“Kinsley raps Gold Digger by Kanye, but only if she’s drunk out of her mind.”
“Does she actually rap it? Like proper rap, not the talk-singing thing most rappers think they can do?”
“Oh, she can rap. It’s one hell of a weird talent,” Ivy mused, playing with the straw. “I have no idea where she picked that up, but I think she’s able to do it because she can read Latin.”
“On what world do Latin and rap go together?”
“One where bookworms sit on thrones and demand their subjects be fluent in ancient poetry?”
“That sounds… terrifying.”
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “If bookworms ruled the world, I might like people more.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone knows bookworms aren’t interested in talking to people.”
“But in what world would bookworms take control?”
“Have you ever been hit by a book? That shit hurts, and these bitches live in bookstores and libraries. They have an entire arsenal of weapons at their disposal and we take that for granted. If they could stop reading long enough to build supersonic catapults, we’d be in trouble.”
“I guess it’s a good thing they always need to read the next chapter, then.”
“Exactly.” She grinned. “Between that and drunk singing awful pop songs at karaoke, they just don’t have the time for technological advancements to launch books at people.”
“Aren’t you a bookworm?”
“Yes, and since I can’t drunk sing karaoke now, you’d better watch out.”
“You just said you don’t drunk sing karaoke.”
“Semantics.” She waved her hand, finishing my water.
“It’s fine, I didn’t want that.”
“I know.” She nudged me with her elbow and grinned. “How long do you want to stay? To see Britney or go all the way through to Kanye?”
“Is Kanye a definite? Because that might sway me.”
Ivy grimaced. “No. There’s probably a fifty-fifty chance of it, to be honest. Nothing that I’d say is certain.”
“Hmm. Maybe we stay until Bohemian Rhapsody and then get ice cream.”
Her face lit up with her mouth forming an excited small. “Really?”
“I’m starting to think ice cream is your weak spot.”
She bit the corner of her lip, still smiling. “Little bit.”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and touched my lips to her ear. “Then ice cream we’ll have.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN – KAI
Ivy moaned, dragging the spoon out of her mouth slowly.
My eyes followed her tongue as it flicked out against the plastic spoon and darted back between her lips.
This hadn’t been the best idea in the world.
“Do you have to make that noise?”
She glanced over at me coyly. “What noise?”
“You know what I’m talking about.” I turned away from her and looked out at the trail.
The Waffle Cone, our ice cream parlor, was nestled at the base of one of White Peak’s many trails. It was the perfect spot for Helena and Charlie Daniels to set up shop because of the heavy foot traffic from tourists during the warmer months, especially on evenings like this.
Evenings when the sky was painted intricate shades of gold and blue and peppered with the light fluffiness of the clouds, when the sun had no intention of fully disappearing and merely toyed with the horizon. It kept it warm enough to stay out late without a chill, but cool enough that it wasn’t stiflingly hot.
I had no idea how people survived in Florida.
“What did you think of their singing?” she asked after a moment.
“I think it’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” I admitted, shaking my head. “I’m almost glad we didn’t stay long enough to see if Kanye happened.”
Ivy’s head bobbed in agreement. “Same. They were particularly bad tonight. Tori was getting ready to bust out some Aguilera, and that’s when I knew it was time to go.”
“What does she sing?”
“What do you think she sings? Dirrty.”
“Oh, fucking hell.”
“You said it. For an introvert, all she needs is a few shots of vodka and she’s insane.” She paused. “Mind you, I think that’s just her personality. She always tells me she’s an introvert