“All black and hoodies,” I say.
“Ski masks,” Zeb answers quickly.
Gemma’s brows lift. “Ski masks,” she repeats.
“Yeah. Keeping it simple tonight. No frills,” I lie.
Because neither of us wants security near us.
Not tonight.
I don’t need a tail following me—especially Gemma. As much fun as it might be to see her reaction to watching me make out with some sexy stranger, I just want a night off to get properly fucked.
God, I can’t wait.
Gemma peers between us like she knows we’re lying. Even so, she doesn’t push it.
“You could take the night off and join the party,” I tell her. “Play the field a little. Get to know this crowd.”
Her hazel eyes darken, and I swear her chest rises a little higher as if she’s thinking of the same things I am.
Or maybe that’s just my own wishful thinking.
Probably my wishful thinking.
And she doesn’t even reply to my suggestion.
“Ski masks…” Gemma sits up and takes another donut from the box. She holds it up, nods, then gets to her feet. “I know you all want your space, but I’m begging you not to do anything stupid tonight.”
“What up, sunshines?” we hear a familiar voice say behind us.
Reed, Mads, Wren, and Andi approach us, another blanket in tow, and a bag of pastries from the green room in Andi’s hands. Reed is grinning, the dark, oversized aviator sunglasses on his nose making him look, somehow, even more pale against the bright morning light. Mads has his mask around his neck, his chestnut beard getting longer every day.
“There’s the Merry Bunch,” Zeb mocks.
“Brady Bunch, dude,” I correct him.
“Ew,” Wren, Reed’s wife, says with a wrinkled face. “I’m never coming to a festival again if we look like that.”
Her dry humor is one of the reasons I love her.
“Yeah, you are. Just wait until tonight. That band is going to have your legs weeping and begging for more,” I tell her about the show we’re heading into the pit to see later.
Wren takes off her shoes and sits on the corner of the blanket. “Yeah, he’s been texting the lead singer all morning already,” she says with a nod at Reed. “I think his head is going to be too big to get back on the bus tomorrow. He’s thinking about getting onstage with them for that one song.”
My brows lift at Reed. “No shit. That would be epic.”
I don’t miss the pointed look Wren gives Zeb, and it nearly makes me laugh that they’re still feuding over him going on a date with one of her co-stars from the movie she just wrapped up.
“Fuck yeah, it would,” Reed agrees. “We’re just working on logistics.” Reed’s gaze moves to Gemma, a sideways smirk lingering on his lips. “Look who is already up and ready to fight the world,” he says to her. “You run?”
“Have to keep up with you, right?” she replies, hands on her hips.
“And as this maniac’s sister, I appreciate your hard work already,” Andi says to Gemma. She slips out of Mads’ grasp and approaches Gemma. “Andi,” she introduces herself. “Things got crazy yesterday. We didn’t get a chance to meet. The sour redhead is Wren, though you may already know her face,” she teases Wren.
“She comes with her own security, right?” Gemma asks.
“Yeah, you can tell them to fuck off if you’re going to be around,” Wren says, already on her phone. She lifts it up to take a photo of the sunrise and stage in the distance, and I leanaround to make a funny face and hold up my fingers in the frame. Wren gives me a rare smile.
