She lifted her chin, a smile gracing her lips, knowing it would bug the shit out of him once he realized what she was singing about. “This story is called ‘Kiss Off.’” She held his gaze as she started playing.

“Intrigue, beauty, and oh, can he kiss. Now, that’s a package I don’t want to miss.” The audience laughed. “He talks in simple words. Red flags waving. My gut clenching. But that fire in his eyes ignites an inferno in the air, drawing me in so deep that I don’t care.” She spoke the next words instead of singing. “We’ve all been there. Am I right, ladies?”

The women cheered, and she looked out at the crowd before returning her gaze to Tobias, his jaw tight, body tense. “Anticipation is my drug, and staring at those lips, hell, I’m a fucking addict.” The audience laughed. “Hold my breath and close my eyes. No time to think. Sink. Sink. Sink. Sink. Into his kiss, his arms, his insanely sexy body. My heart’s on fire. Mind turns to mush, soul drenched in desire.” She paused, speaking the next few lines. “But wait. Isn’t he too much? He’s got muscles, he’s got lips, but he’s also got a dick.”

More laughter rang out, and she said, “No offense, men, but come on. We know the games. Lips from heaven and a heart? Well, a heart straight from hell.” She played faster, louder, returning a narrow-eyed gaze to Tobias, who did not look amused as she sang the chorus. “Life’s too short. Batteries are cheap. I want the one who doesn’t speak. So take your red flags and kiss off, kiss off, kiss off…”

Madigan had been sure Tobias would leave after “Kiss Off,” but he stayed for her entire performance, his insolent eyes impaling her every second of it. But she held her own, singing her stories at a perfect pace, the most cutting lines with vehemence aimed at him and the softest with the sweetest of tenors, aimed anywhere but at him. She nailed every story, and as she strummed the last chord, the audience sprang to their feet, clapping and whistling.

She was on top of the world. “Thank you all so much. You’re an amazing audience, and you made it fun to play for you. If you’re around next week, I’ll be playing at the Lonesome Cluck in Provincetown on Thursday afternoon at two. I hope to see you there.”

More cheers rang out as she left the stage and put her guitar away. She headed toward the bar, guitar case in hand, a little giddy as people stopped her to chat and compliment her storytelling.

Take that, you big broody jerk.