The Watcher Read Online Free

pulled up, and he was nursing a bottle of beer. I kept dancing, suddenly nervous of making a complete fool of myself. I could see his lips moving to the lyrics, “Couldn’t love you more, you’ve got a beautiful taste.” OMG he was mouthing the lyrics to me! This was the second time I had heard a song about the way I taste today and both times were right in front of him. I wanted to look away, I really wanted to, but I couldn’t. I just kept dancing, swaying back and forth, and mouthing the lyrics along with him.  Through the smoke, I saw him raise his beer to his lips and take a deep swallow. I just stared at him and swallowed hard, my nerves became tauter and tauter.
    The song ended and Emma jumped up in front of me, startling me out of my reverie. We made our way back to the bar as I secretly looked for my green-eyed stranger. He had left the bar area, so Emma and I took his seat and the empty one next to it. Seether came on the speakers, Broken featuring Amy Lee. I’ve had a lot of people tell me I look like her, which I take as a compliment. She’s freaking gorgeous. Lou showed up with two more shots and chasers and told us they were compliments of a fellow fan of Bush. My face burned red once again and Emma turned to look at me. I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. I briefly explained my encounter in class today and what had happened while she was in the ladies room. She began wildly looking around, trying to find him. I shushed her and begged her to stop, suddenly mortified that we were acting like we were back in high school talking about a crush.
    I was a married woman for crying out loud. I needed to put all thoughts about black hoodies and green eyes out of my head. We took our shots and asked for ice water, knowing we had to drive at some point that night. Push by Matchbox 20 came across the speakers and I squealed. Yet another 90s crush that hadn’t abated. I begged Emma to come to the dance floor, but she was deep in conversation with the guy next to her about some sports team or other. I knew it was hopeless once she got involved in sports talk, so I headed back to the dance floor. Once again, I secretly scanned the room for my watcher. I wasn’t sure if he was to be called an admirer yet, as I don’t usually attract admirers.
    I sang the lyrics loudly, getting out some of my frustration. Moving my hips, I began gyrating and losing myself in my national anthem. I felt a presence behind me and got a whiff of laundry soap, deodorant, and a faintly distinct male scent. Hot breath danced along the back of my neck and a pair of hands lightly gripped my hips. I fought the urge to freeze and slowed my motions, swaying instead of gyrating. I looked down and saw black nail polish on the most beautiful set of masculine hands I had ever seen. I knew immediately it was my watcher.
    He leaned in slightly, his chest touching my back, and whispered “Don’t turn around” into my ear. My heart skipped a beat as I got the first hint of his gravelly voice. He began singing the chorus to me…it was the most beautiful singing voice I had ever heard.  The song ended and it was immediately followed by Long Day by Matchbox Twenty. I could have sworn someone was playing the soundtrack to my life.
    I giggled to myself, the Jameson taking hold finally. His hands left my hips and I felt their loss acutely. I didn’t want to go against his command, but I wanted to look into those beautiful eyes up close. I swiftly turned around to find that black hoodie quickly retreating into the crowd. I was disappointed and sang along with Rob Thomas. I was in a daze, forgetting who I was, what my life was, and momentarily stuck in a fantasy world where my troubles didn’t exist, wiped clean by those gorgeous hands.
    The song ended and I shook my head to try to clear it. I went back to Emma and ordered a large ice water. Like a Stone by Audioslave came on next and sent me back in time to the days of drinking and karaoke