We’re both on the verge of laughter but somehow holding back. “When a seventy-year-old woman named Tater Tot wants to buy you a shot of Jim Beam and gifts you her beloved trucker hat, you aren’t allowed to turn her down. It’s Georgia law.”
“Tater Tot, huh? Is that her given name, or…”
“I mean,probably not, but it’s her chosen name and honoring personal identity is what’s most important.”
His smile opens wide and his teeth and dimple make an appearance. Every time this happens, the crack in his intimidating outward armor makes me want to step close and press my eye to it to see what’s inside. “Please tell me that’s a true story.”
I would forfeit my next paycheck, rent be damned, to lick that dimple. I casually take a step backward, though it doesn’t put much distance between us, and cross my heart. “It is. The odds areastronomicalthat she’ll flash her titties or throw her bra on stage during Ben’s set. She’s a legend.”
His shoulders bounce in silent laughter.
“You need Thicker Than Water merch, stat.” I mean it. It would sell like crazy.
“You think?”
“Come on, Ever, give the people what they want.” Innuendo has entered the chat.
He captures the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth, worries at it for a second, and quickly releases, like he’s thinking it over. Then he narrows his eyes and playfully says, “I have a feeling it’s going to be impossible for me to say no to you.”
I live for banter like this. The kind that usually only exists in movies or books. “God, I hope so.Because, at the end of the night, this hat is going to be returned to its rightful owner, and I’ll need a replacement. Don’t tell Ben, but I’m a metal girl to my core. This hat is sacrilege.”
The grin remains. “I knew I fucking liked you. A woman after my own heart.”
“You know what they say: If it ain’t metal, it ain’t fuckin’ shit,” I deadpan.
He barks out a laugh that’s so genuine it loosens something deep inside me, and I join in, unable to help myself. Laughing with someone like this is so rare. It’s pure and intimate like nothing else, because it can’t be faked or forced. It’s validation that ties two souls together, like splicing a vein and bleeding out into the other. Pure connection.
There are tears in both our eyes when we hear the creak of the door, and “There you are” bursts our little bubble. It’s Hannah. Her eyebrows are pinched together as she looks fromme to Ever. I know she heard us laughing, but we’re standing so close and my gung-ho nipples must make me look guilty as hell, because when she adds, “I need you inside, Sophie,” the edge in her voice is unmistakable.
Ever’s back is to her, but he mouths, “Busted,” before he whispers, “You have no idea how much I needed that. Thank you.”
seventeen
It’s barely seven o’clock,and I’ve already showered at the campground’s communal facilities, walked to the convenience store on-site to get a large cup of coffee, and am sitting at a picnic table next to the RV with my laptop. I’ve always been an early riser, and I guess the time zone change isn’t going to affect that. I’m not complaining because having this time to myself before everyone else wakes up is precious. The sleep did me good, and I’m going into today with a clear head. The first day is behind me, and all the nerves and excitement that went along with that have died down and clarity has set in. I might actually be able to pull this off. I’ve never had this kind of freedom within a job, and though it’s still scary, it feels good. Creatively, there’s so much to explore. Inspiration is endless.
I want to edit some photos so the guys can use them for their social media, but before that, I need to check in with Lola. She sent me a few texts last night, but I was too wiped out to read them. I woke up this morning in my bunk and still had my shoes on.
Lola
Send me photos of the RV and your space inside. I need to visualize it. Better yet, a video.
Lola
Send me photos of the show. Bonus points if Jesse and/or Ever are shirtless.
Lola
Did you know Mabel used to own a bakery with her sister? She came over tonight, and Benji filmed her making cheesecake to send to her grandniece. She let me help. She’s a fucking natural in front of the camera! Benji’s trying to talk us into starting a YouTube channel. And her s’mores cheesecake was luscious. It’s almost the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.
Lola
I see you’re still at the bar, and I know you’re busy, but I’m going to bed and just wanted to say good night. Miss and love you.
I take a photo of my to-go coffee cup next to my open laptop with the RV in the background and send it to Lola with the caption,
Will send video of the interior later. Everyone is sleeping now.
Then I open my photos from last night and send her a few random shots.
