**WATTPAD HQ EDITOR'S PICK Nov/Dec 2021**
BOOK ONE in the STEAMY FORBIDDEN ROMANCE series
Coralie Watson, a British thirty-year-old living in San Francisco, has a tormented past with men. Physical and mental abuse, abandonment issues, incompatibili...
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♫ If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world? ♪ (Snow Patrol—Chasing Cars)
The Swirled Lady was packed. It wasn't the biggest venue in town, though it could host many events at once; but Coralie had never seen it like this. Every table had several patrons gathered around it, their beers sloshing as they clinked them. Every bar-stool was occupied, and her co-workers behind the bar hustled, delivering drinks faster than ever.
As she waded through the throng of folks of all ages—the usual bros, a few groups of middle-aged women on a lady's night out, a handful of older men with their wives—she felt a surge of adrenaline pumping through her. And fear; lots and lots of fear.
How can I perform in the presence of all these people?
Terror jarred her, crawling up her legs as she pushed further into the bar, desperate to locate Delilah, or even Roger. Both would have the right words to kill her panic, or they'd yell at her until she had no choice but to swallow the negativity.
Passing a couple dancing to the soft background music, she hyperventilated, picturing herself failing one of the biggest nights of her life.
She sensed a hand wrapping around her upper arm, and gasped as she jolted towards its source—and unleashed a giant breath of relief at the sight of a friendly individual.
"Michael!" Before she could stop herself, she hurried into his arms, her heart throbbing in her rib-cage—whether from her anxiety at the open-mic, or her nerves at seeing him, she wasn't positive. "I'm so glad you're here!" She'd need amicable faces in the crowd to help her get through this, and though she was nervous about singing in front of Michael, she was also reassured to have him among all the strangers.
And Delilah, wherever she was.
"Of course I'm here. I told you I would be!" He hugged her tight, and she sensed his muscles bulging under his thin, long-sleeved shirt. "And you are—" he pushed her away from him so he could eye her from head to toe, "—perfect. I saw the picture you posted earlier, but it doesn't do you justice. You're rocking this outfit!"
She rarely wore high-waisted jeans, and this was her first time being audacious enough to tuck a top into them. Blushing, she adjusted her purse strap as she peered at the tips of her shoes.
"Stop, you're going to turn me into a tomato! I'm nervous enough already!"
He planted a hand below her shoulder, his gaze slightly narrowing as he smiled. "No need. You're going to kill it. Just... look at me, I'll be down here cheering you on."
She dared to lift her chin and connect with him, which prompted her cheeks to overheat faster. Her skin became so warm she felt faint, and she worried he'd start laughing at her bashfulness.
