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“Ripley.”
“Cool name. It’s nice to meet you, Riley Ripley.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me my name?”
“I know your name,” he says. “It’s Tish. Tish Travis.”
“How’d you know that?”
“Jake announced it earlier.”
“Oh. Right.” I keep my shoulders from sinking too far. “That makes sense.”
Riley leans forward, gently placing his elbows on the bar as he looks me over the same way he did before. This time, however, I’m close enough to see the finer details of his features in the light, from the specks of green in his blue eyes to the line of soft freckles dashed along his upper cheeks.
“You have a nice voice, Tish,” he says.
I smile, never tired of hearing that. “Thank you.”
“Where’d you learn to sing like that?”
“People learn to sing?”
“Typically, yes.”
“Oh, well, I just do it,” I say. “Songs got notes, and so do I.”
“Rare talent,” he says.
“I guess. Do you sing?”
“A little.”
“Sing something for me.”
Riley tilts back. “No.”
“Why not?” I say, leaning forward over the bar. “I sang for you.”
“You sang for everyone,” he argues playfully.
I point over my shoulder toward the stage. “Night’s still young. Fire up the mic and show me what you got.”
“Think I’ll pass, actually.”
“Why?” I say, keeping my teases light. “Are you shy?”
Riley takes it well, his handsome eyes still playing with mine. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, dodging the question. “Come back to my place with me, and I’ll sing something just for you.”
I arch a brow, interested. “Wow, you jumped right for it, didn’t you?” I ask.
He chuckles, his smile warm enough to melt chocolate. “It’s Kiss County. I figure if I don’t, someone else will.”
“That’s probably true,” I say. “Some are a bit more subtle about it, though.”
“Not my strong suit.”
