Sleeping With Her Enemy(65)

“It’s better with her around.” His father stood up and took Dax’s empty glass. “It might not seem like it, but it is.”

What a strange thing for his father to say. Dax wasn’t sure if a response was required.

Apparently not, because the screen door banged behind his father, and a moment later, he heard the water running as his dad filled the sink for dishes.

…

“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how much fun karaoke was?”

“Because normal people already know that karaoke is fun.” Danny grabbed the binder of songs out of Amy’s hands and started flipping through it. “Time for a real singer.”

“Hey!” But she couldn’t really be offended. Cassie, Misty, and Amy had just belted out a rendition of “Single Ladies.” Amy had resisted the temptation to point out that Cassie was not only not single, she was probably the happiest coupled person that Amy knew. But in truth, they’d needed her. Misty, even after three glasses of wine, was shy enough that she pretty much just mouthed the words. Amy’s three glasses of wine, on the other hand, had emboldened her enough to inspire actual vocalization. She didn’t think she was bad per se, just that she needed another voice to help her find the notes—and her courage.

But once you got up there and started belting it out, it was kind of addictive. There was something comforting about playing to your type, reveling in your demographic. Yes, a trio of late-twenties and early-thirties women singing Bey’s anthem to single female empowerment was cliché. But having gotten together with Mason so young, Amy had pretty much skipped this step.

And this was a fun step. She kept having to remind herself that. Fun! It was also kind of bittersweet. Three-plus weeks had gone by since that awful, awkward phone call with Dax. She’d seen him, of course, a couple of times in the office. It was impossible to avoid doing that. But it had always been in the kitchen with other people around. The first time, he’d flashed her a small smile that gave her a little thrill, but then it disappeared.

Her conclusion: in the end, even though she had managed to get over herself and have casual sex, she’d still failed at it. Because apparently she was incapable of keeping it casual. Mason had broken her heart. She understood that. It made sense. But it was starting to feel like Dax had broken her heart, too. Which was confusing because wasn’t the whole point of a casual hookup that your heart wasn’t involved?

She shook her head. “Hey, buttercup.” Danny slid the book back to her. “Whatever’s bugging you, shake it off.”

“‘Shake It Off!’ Let’s sing that one! Everyone’s always telling me how much I look like Taylor Swift!”

Danny narrowed his eyes, assessing. “You know, you really do. I don’t have a comeback for that.”

While a group of friendly sixtysomething women who said they were a book club—Amy reminded herself to look into joining one if that was what “book clubs” did—performed a spirited rendition of “Delta Dawn,” a heated debate broke out about which Taylor Swift song to sing on their next turn. Even Emma, who refused to participate, had an opinion. There was a “Mean” faction and a “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” faction.

“You know,” Amy said, “the day I got left at the altar, I thought about how if I actually had my own friends, I would have ended up in a bar like this singing one of Taylor Swift’s kiss-off songs to her exes.” The group went quiet.

“Aww, hon,” Cassie finally said.

“I think you should pick the song,” Misty said, prying the binder from Danny, who had been clutching it to his chest.

She surprised herself by saying, “You know what? I don’t think I want to do a ‘boys suck’ song.” Honestly, hadn’t she given Mason enough airtime? And, Dax, too, for that matter? “Let’s do that song ‘Long Live.’”

Everyone’s face was blank except Emma. “Oh, I love that song!”

“Don’t know it, but I’m game,” Cassie said.

“It’s not one of her biggest hits,” Emma said, “but it’s a great one. It’s about a young couple. They’re kind of misfits, and they do some big prank or something and amaze everyone in their town.”

“I always thought it was about a pair of friends,” Amy said, trying to think back to the lyrics. There was a trophy, some pledges to remember each other forever. She’d always pictured a gaggle of teen girls on the cusp of adulthood. It was a buoyant, hopeful song, and as fun as the single lady anthems had been, she wasn’t in the mood for defiant wallowing anymore. “Whatever,” she said, grabbing Emma’s hand. “You’re not getting out of this one. If you’re the only other one who knows it, I need you.”