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He shoves Kyle’s wrist down, causing the drink in his other hand to spill.
“Whoa, I thought y’all were split up, man. I swear.” He backs away, clearly not invested enough to get into an altercation over me.
“Well, we’re not. Go,” Adam grits out, the veins in his neck popping out.
The announcer tells us that Chris Stapleton is playing “What Are You Listening To,” and Kyle shuffles in the other direction. I watch him leave, my mouth slightly agape.
Then, I’m staring up into stunning amber eyes. He won’t touch me even though I’m begging him to with my eyes. Doesn’t he know how much I want it?
“What…what’re you doing here?” I choke out, my voice cracking.
He licks his lips, eyes burning over me. “Look at the screen, please.”
My eyes travel to the stage, and I suck in a breath, my hand covering my mouth.
The bearded man is playing onstage, and a video of me and Adam is flashing on the display above him. I’m wearing an oversize shirt, and it looks like I don’t have pants on. He’s in his trademark torn jeans and a flannel shirt. I’m running toward him, and he scoops me up with an enormous grin. My legs wrap around his waist, my head above his as our lips lock.
We’re in front of the cafeteria at Ole Tex. Kenna’s contented gasp can be heard in the background. Moments later, we were undressed in the bathroom, but I know that won’t be on the video. As it ends, the screen changes to a recording of us kissing in the ferns when the older lady accidentally took a video instead of a picture. Adam’s face is serious, his hands in my hair. I’m smiling up at him like he’s the center of my entire universe. It could be a movie trailer, the kind with the ending you want to dream about.
He’s right next to me, and the people around us are giving us side-eyes, like, Isn’t that y’all?
“How’d you do this?” I say, breathless. Is he really trying to announce to all these people that we're together?
His eyes have been focused on me the entire song, never straying to the screen.
“I…Kenna helped me,” he admits, sucking on his lower lip like I wish I were.
I remember how my roommate knows everyone, including the DJ. My hand reaches up to hold the side of his whiskery face, and he closes his eyes, indulging in the contact shamelessly.
“You’re breathtaking,” he says, eyes blazing with emotion.
“I’ve been horrible,” I confess, sick of the charade. “I’m so…so sorry.” My voice is racked with guilt, desperate for forgiveness.
He’s a modern-day Prince Charming, and I’m a stepsister, evil and conniving.
He pulls me closer, hands tightly gripping my lower back, teasing the top of my jeans.
“Harley, I’m…hopelessly in love with you. There’s nothing to forgive. Just tell me you want me, and—”
I cut him off with a desperate, hungry kiss.
Our mouths were made to be welded together in a crowd of drunk people. The cheers that erupt around us are blaring. His tongue is in my mouth, and I suck it in like I’ll starve if I don’t taste every part of him.
He’s miserable without me, and only I can satisfy his craving. His hands are groping my butt. The good-boy persona was left in the truck. Tongues are licking, teeth are scraping, and our hands are violating each other like this isn’t a very public venue. A few hoots and whistles bring us back to the present, and he slowly releases me. We’re breathing like the top contenders in the Olympic swim competition, but we both fought for the gold.
38
Adam
Her hand in mine is the only thing keeping me sane. I’m dragging her through the crowd, out onto the sidewalk. I had to park far away because I got here late after the five-hour drive. She’s jogging after me, and I force myself to slow.
I need her—now. Right now.
Talking is useless when desire is your fuel, and neither of us bother wasting the breath.
My Chevy is finally in sight on the very back row under a tree, but none of the tension in my shoulders is released. I jerk open the door, waiting for her to climb in. She pauses for a moment, staring up at me in the moonlight. I sense that maybe she wants some type of explanation for my presence, but I’m not giving it unless she asks.
She doesn’t, obediently climbing into the single cab. I breathe a sigh, following her.
