I nod and strum the strings, my fingers acting on memory. It’s been an eternity since I last sang a duet for an audience. At the Coal Bucket, I only perform alone. Butwhen our gazes meet and our voices align, it feels like we never stopped being Kentucky Skies.
Like we never stopped beingus.
We just hit pause—and now we’re back.
The faces of the crowd blur. In this moment, only our melody matters. Only we matter.
I know she’ll always be my harmony in the chaos. Until my heart stops, she’ll always be the missing notes in my song and the rhythm of my pulse.
31
TALLY
I’m floatingaround the pool table like I got tiny clouds strapped to my boots and I can’t blame it on the free drinks we got from the generous folks of Pine Bluff.
It’s been too long since I had this much fun performing.
When I felt Rust’s presence next to me in the spotlight, my anxiety melted away. To share a stage with him again, to witness that spark returning to his eyes and igniting my own would’ve been enough for me. Suddenly, the approval of the crowd didn’t seem that important anymore.
But boy, did they approve.
After a wave of stunned silence, people got on their feet. They clapped along, whistled and hollered. Some couples two-stepped in the small space in front of the bar. One particularly enthusiastic fella climbed on top of the pool table and Dave had to hit him with a broom until he jumped down.
We walked off the stage into a sea of back pats and compliments until Erin chased our new fans off so we could catch our breath. She went home shortlyafter, claiming she didn’t wanna stick around until the local drunks got rowdy again. Whatever that meant.
Since then, it’s Rust and me and this game of pool, which I’m totally winning. It feels good to let loose and get a little tipsy without worrying about some paparazzi snapping an unflattering picture.
I line up my final shot and sink the ball into the furthest left corner pocket. “I win!”
Rust blows out a long breath, putting his cue on the table. “Damn, I don’t remember teaching you these dirty tricks, Trouble.”
“I’ve had time to refine my techniques, cowboy.”
I swallow a tacky remark about my exceptional skill in handling long, hard things. But they do say actions speak louder than words…
I leave my cue behind and strut toward him. My hand lands on his chest, drawing circles across his rapid heartbeat. I lick my lips and Rust’s eyes follow the flick of my tongue.
“You looked so fucking sexy on stage,” I whisper seductively. “Let me show you what a good groupie I can be. Come and get me, Big Guy.”
I twist away from him. Hips swaying, I walk to the restrooms. I pause by the door and shake my ass to the sound of playful whistles from the other patrons. Heart pounding, I slip into the hallway beyond.
Seconds later, the door flies open and Rust’s muscular body barrels into me.
He knocks the Stetson off my head as he seals my lips with a feverish kiss. My arms fly around his neck and his hands grab my waist while our tongues tangle in a possessive dance.
We stumble into the ladies’ room and Rust kicks the door shut behind us, fumbling to lock it. Then he pushesme up against the wall, his rock-hard cock pressing into my belly fat. His moans echo in my mouth as he grinds against me with reckless abandon.
He’s always open about his attraction to me, but in this dimly-lit bathroom of a small-town honky-tonk bar, it seems like the last thread of his restraint finally snaps.
His touch is urgent. He digs his fingers into my flesh like he fears I might fade into smoke if he doesn’t hold tight. He kisses me like he can’t breathe unless our lips are locked.
Rust’s thigh presses between my legs, hiking up my skirt, and I rock my wet center against him. One of his hands wanders down to my ass, squeezing. Fuck, I could come just from the way he kisses me and how his muscled thigh rubs against my clit.
He kisses a path along the corner of my mouth and my jaw to the side of my neck, sucking and biting. Tomorrow, I’m gonna be covered in hickeys and I don’t give a damn. He’s already left bruises on my hips and thighs when he fucked me in the truck. They look like flower petals scattered across my skin and I love them.
This between us ain’t forever, but I’m proud to wear his marks.
I need more of him. Of us.
