Just me, faults and all.
Abruptly, the second warmup band concludes, and Vale turns her head away from me. Like the sudden silence from the stage and uproar of the crowd reminds her where she is, who she’s near, what she almost did.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” she announces.
Pressing off the wood railing, I stand tall, allowing her the space to walk away. As she snakes through the crowd, I follow the weave of my hat until I can’t see her anymore.
Fuck. I hang my head. She isn’t going to come back. And I hate that I’m standing in a crowded room yet feel loneliness doubling down without Vale standing near me.
Scanning the pit for Clint, I send him a text when I can’t find him.
Where are you?
When he doesn’t instantly answer, I tuck my phone back in my pocket and wait. But wait for what? Vale to return? My brother to magically appear? My life feels like it has been in a holding pattern for years. Like the ball has been tossed, only it’s suspended in mid-air and I’m never going to catch it despite mybest efforts. Then again, have I chased the ball or simply worked on blocking anyone else from catching it?
The football metaphor zaps my energy, and I reach for my phone again, willing Clint to respond to me. Time passes as slowly as sand sifting through a pin hole. I want a beer but don’t dare leave my position, fearing Clint will return in my absence.
After what feels like forever, the house lights flicker once more, signaling the main act will start soon, and the crowd tightens. I’m sweaty and uncomfortable, with added irritation of bodies brushing against mine. I hate being touched on a good day. I especially hate being touched unaware, like the innocent bump of people too close together.
When someone hip-checks me, I spin toward them, ready to argue there’s plenty of space not to be on top of each other, but the smaller frame is wearing a familiar hat and holding two beer bottles in one hand. She glides in front of me, wedging herself into space that could hardly fit a paperback.
Returned to her previous position, Vale faces me. Her breasts brush against me as her nearness is almost impossible to avoid. “I brought you a beer.”
She holds up a bottle with the cap already removed, and she taps the long neck of hers against the length of mine before her lips pucker around the tip. As she thirstily drinks, I watch her throat roll.
Fuck.
Her eyelids flip upward, and her eyes meet mine over the base of the tipped bottle. Instantly, I imagine her in a different position. On her knees. Eyes on me. Mouth wrapped around my?—
I lift my own beer bottle and take a giant gulp, needing to cool my thoughts and squelch the rise in my jeans.
Only with the first strum of a guitar, Vale spins toward therailing, setting her beer on the ledge. Her ass brushes against my thighs and I stand ramrod straight again.
A sultry song with a rapid beat starts the show and Vale lifts one arm, swaying her hips back and forth, causing that ass to paint side to side against my thighs once more.
I spread my legs to stabilize my stance and place a hand on Vale’s hip, to either hold her still or keep her close, I’m not certain. What I notice instead is how the curve of her hip fits perfectly in my palm. I dip my fingers into the slant of the pocket on her skirt and dig into the soft edge of her body.
Whether I tug her back or she leans into me is undetermined, but on the next powerful swing of her hips, her ass swipes across the front of my jeans again, nearly missing where I want her, and I hiss.
Lowering my head, I aim my mouth near her ear. “Easy, Bee.”
Vale doesn’t respond. She lifts her arm, lowers her head, and moves her hips once more.
Right. Left. Left, left. Right.
Like a metronome counting time, only the movement is pumping up my cock. I squeeze harder on her hip and groan near the side of her neck. “Dammit, Vale.”
“I love this song,” she yells over the music.
My brain doesn’t register the words. I can’t hear any sound over the drumming of my heart.
Vale twists only her neck. Her face inches from mine. Our eyes lock again. Clear water to hard pebbles.
I lick my lips and Vale’s gaze drops to them. Slowly, she lifts her eyes, climbing over my jaw and scaling my nose before landing on my eyes again.
“Vale,” I whisper, not certain if it’s a warning or a wish.
“You never kissed me,” she shouts, pulling us both back tothatmoment.
