He had watched her dance, watched as that body that he’s seen in absolutely nothing in the past, move and arch in ways that almost make him drop a chord here or there. But he keeps his concentration, keeps his voice in time, singing for her a song that would be theirs for as long as they both live.
Song done, he holds his guitar in his lap, embarrassed by her question.
“Singer?” he asks. “B-but I’m not that good…”
She smiles, walking closer to his side of the bed, getting on her knees and supporting her head in her palms. “You haven’t heard yourself of course but…your voice is as sexy as your face and body….it…sends shivers down my spine all the time…especially that sexy accent of yours..”
He blushes brilliantly.
“I’ve… never really listened to myself before…” Jack admits. “Too shy to… even listen to my own voice. Kind of pathetic huh?” he asks with a weak smile.
Jack Maple 