Read Online Forget by N.A. Alcorn - Free Book Online Page B

eyes. I’m too far to make out their gemstone-like-color, but I know they’re green, and can’t deny that even from this distance, they look poetically brilliant.
    I continue to stare while he continues to sing one of my favorite Muse songs. His voice hovers in the air, and the crowd appears drunk from his talent. Well, at least I’m drunk off his talent. The delicate grit evokes a tingling sensation to shoot through my body, starting at the tips of my fingers until it reaches my toes. His voice is hypnotic, almost soothing in a way.
    I want to wrap myself up in that voice and fall asleep to it murmuring a lullaby in my ear.
    Normally, I would be thinking about the talent, criticizing and scrutinizing, and trying to picture what they could do in the music industry, but I’m not doing that with him. I’m just listening and absorbing and watching. I love seeing his long fingers run through his hair, and my heart speeds up with each tiny smirk he reveals.
    I can’t take my eyes off him. I don’t want to take my eyes off him.
    He has this raw talent that few people in this world possess. Dylan is the kind of man that magnetizes, entrancing everyone in his path. He makes you want to know every little detail about him.
    And I want to know, I really want to know.
    “This is the guy? The one you blinded with your phone?” Lindsay whispers into my ear.
    I nod.
    “Jesus, he’s good-looking.”
    I nod again.
    “And this is the very same guy that you refuse to call?”
    “Yep, that’s him.”
    “I love you, but you’re kind of an idiot. I mean, Brooke, look at him. Like, he’s really fucking sexy.”
    Every single thing she just rambled is true. I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not calling this guy. “It’s painful.” I pull my unwilling eyes away from the stage; taking in Lindsay’s baffled expression.
    “Really painful. And it’s like he doesn’t even know it.”
    “It’s excruciating. I’m an asshole. I should have called him.”
    “Yes and yes and yes.” She doesn’t hold back, even punctuating each yes with a nod.
    “You really think I’m an asshole?”
    “Yes. Fix it. Call him. Talk to him. Fuck his brains out.”
    I have no response to that. I should be refuting the “fuck his brains out” comment, but I’m too drunk, and it’s not from alcohol.
    Dylan’s sexy voice and gorgeous face have turned us into bumbling idiots. Normally, our witty banter has more snark and pizazz and quicker comebacks than this, but while Dylan is on stage, we might as well be mutes.
    Jesse slides another round in front of us, this one including two shots of tequila with limes and salt. “To beautiful women and second chances,” he says cheekily. His hand holds up his shot glass, encouraging our participation.
    “I’ll cheers to that,” Lindsay agrees.
    “I guess I have no choice in the matter.” I sprinkle salt on my hand, slam the shot glass on the table, and then down it. I suck the juice from the lime as quick as possible to dilute the tequila sting. “Fuck, no more of those. I beg of you,” I demand. My nose crinkles from the strong aftertaste.
    “I’m really glad you came,” Jesse announces, but his eyes are focused on Lindsay.
    I tune out their flirtatious banter and continue listening to the music that floats from the stage. A few more songs are played, and I’m even dancing a little in my seat as they cover The Police’s Roxanne. The dance floor is filling up by the second as people spill out of the stairway, dancing and singing along.
    This is the best day I’ve had in a really long time. Instead of going home to New York, Lindsay flew to Paris, to spend time with me. If it weren’t for her, I’d be holed up in my hotel room—not out-and-about experiencing the night life. A night like this was exactly what I needed.
    The alcohol is flowing, the Pop In crowd is lively, and I’m having a kick-ass time with my best friend. We’re busy cutting up and teasing Jesse about his English