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Fuck this.
His head was pounding. One hundred and twenty decibels pumping out of the amplifiers wasn’t helping. Brendan gulped his whiskey down in one easy swallow and tossed the plastic cup into the trash. That probably wasn’t helping either. Maybe he just needed to get away from the concert for a bit. Take a walk.
He glanced at his cousin who sat at the VIP table with him near the stage, then he got up from his seat. “I’ll be back.”
“Where you going?” Dillon shouted over the music, looking up at him with a perplexed tilt of his head. “You okay?”
“Yeah, man.” He patted Dillon on the shoulder. “Just need some air to clear my head.”
“Bren, we’re sitting outside.” He gestured around the table. “There’s plenty of air,” and he chuckled.
Brendan pointed toward the path that meandered through Coventry Park behind them. “I won’t be too long.”
“Whatever, man.” Dillon shrugged with a smirk on his face, then his voice took on an Irish brogue. “Be mindful, the fair folk are about tonight.”
Litha. Midsummer.
When they were young boys, their parents, aunts, and uncles often recounted Celtic folklore that had been passed down from one generation to the next. He smiled at the reminder of their fond childhood memories. Tonight was the eve of the summer solstice. A night for faeries, magic, and dreams of your true love—not that he actually believed any of that.
“Sure, Dill.” Shaking his head, he left the blaring music behind him, walked past the commissary tent and Venery’s bus, in the direction of the old oak trees along the path.
He just needed to let it all go for a few minutes. The tension. The worries. The load he carried. It was a weight Brendan took upon himself gladly. No one asked him to, but he felt responsible for them all. His family. And the shit coming down on them was his fault anyway. He should have listened to Taylor and Jesse the night they met that fucking viper. Why hadn’t he?
‘Did you love her or something?’
Brendan told Taylor he didn’t, and that was true. Hell, most of the time he didn’t even like her. He tried to once. He’d tried to love her or like her—to feel something for her. To feel anything at all. He felt nothing. He did like fucking her, though. And as it turned out, that was his first mistake.
He’d made a lot of fucking mistakes.
He’d think of a way to fix them.
His head was down, both hands stuffed in his pockets, as he walked the paved trail that wound through the century-old oaks at the back of the park. He inhaled a deep breath of city air, the first breaths of summer, and thought he should turn around and go back before Venery finished their set or Dillon came looking for him.
She ran smack dab into him the instant he turned around.
Hands clutched onto his shirt and his arms instinctively wrapped themselves around her so she wouldn’t fall. She was probably average height—maybe five and a half feet. But next to him she was a little wisp of a thing. Her long hair gently fluttered in the breeze. The beautiful face of an angel looked up at him. Full lips. Flushed cheeks. Eyes a shade of blue he couldn’t quite make out in the dark.
Her breathing was uncontrolled, ragged pants that passed through parted lips. Why was she running? Brendan gazed out along the path but he didn’t see anything. They were alone. She wasn’t in danger of falling anymore. He should let her go. But she wasn’t letting go of him either. She still held onto his shirt, looking up at him with those enchanting eyes of hers.
A pink tongue peeked past her lips to wet them. Brendan didn’t even stop to think about it. He lowered his head and brushed those lips with his. Her hands unclenched to rest flat on his pecs. He pressed her closer against him and softly took her mouth. Sweet spun sugar. Her hands slid up to his shoulders and he deepened the kiss, tracing her lips with his tongue.
Open up for me, sweet girl.
And she did.
His hands reached around her thighs as his tongue slipped inside and he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. He inhaled deeply through his nose. Sunshine. White chocolate. Jasmine. She kissed him back with those full soft lips. His cock throbbed beneath his jeans in time to her sweet tongue dancing with his.
Her tits pressed into his chest. He could feel her nipples harden and wondered how they’d fit in his hands. How they’d feel between his teeth. He held her with one hand splayed between her shoulders and slid the other up her thigh, past her belly, to cup her breast over the cotton sundress she wore. He squeezed. She fit perfectly in his palm.
What the fuck was he doing, kissing some random girl in the middle of the park? And who the fuck was she letting him? But he kept on. She smelled so good, and she tasted so good, and she felt so good. He hadn’t felt anything in a long, long time.
He should let her go.
Slowly, he lifted his lips from hers and lowered her back down. She smiled up at him, but never spoke a word. He kissed the crown of her head and watched her walk away from him for a moment before he turned to walk in the opposite direction. His dick ached. He rubbed it over the denim. He could hear the faint strains of Venery up ahead in the distance. He didn’t even know her name. He should’ve asked her. Why didn’t he ask her?
He turned around, but she was gone.
That night in his bed, he dreamt of a girl with long hair streaked in gold by the sun. It gently fluttered in the breeze. The beautiful face of an angel. Lips swollen from his kisses. Cheeks flushed pink. Her eyes were neither blue nor green, but the color of a stormy tropical sea. He asked her for her name, but she just smiled and turned away. She took the light with her.
