by Chiah Wilder
Wheelie laughed. “Don’t go telling anyone and ruin my reputation.” He pulled out several bills and handed them to the guy behind the counter.
As Sofia watched him, she hooked her finger in his back belt loop and leaned against him. She wanted to touch him, to feel the heat emanating from his body, and to simply be close to him. All she could think about when Wheelie had to leave her was the next time she’d be wrapped in his arms again. Sofia craved him in the worst way—not the aching, angsty kind—but in a euphoric, passionate way that rocked her world and made her stomach do nonstop somersaults every time she thought of him.
“Grab your beer, babe.” Wheelie said, handing her a large plastic cup as he balanced the nachos, a brownie, and a burger and fries with one hand.
“Let me help you with that,” she said, taking the nachos from him.
Wheelie picked up his beer from the counter and they headed to their seats. Along the way, she noticed a lot of women checking him out, and why wouldn’t they? Wheelie was the epitome of the quintessential bad boy, with bared inked and muscled arms, a five o’clock shadow lightly covering his strong jaw, and his fuck-the-world attitude. The way his jeans outlined the enticing bulge pressing against the front of his pants was an added bonus. Desire rippled through her when he looked at her and grinned then moved in closer so that his upper arm brushed her shoulder. Sparks skated across her tanned skin, and Sofia had to take in several deep gulps of air to steady her increasing arousal. Every damn thing about him screams ‘hot sex god.’ She giggled and looked up at Wheelie, who winked then nudged her into an aisle ten rows up from the pit.
“These are great seats. You must’ve paid a fortune for them.”
Wheelie helped her settle in her seat then bent over and kissed her passionately. “You’re worth it,” he said in a low voice that made her insides melt.
“I can’t believe I’m sitting at a Jason Aldean concert.” Sofia turned toward him and placed her fingers under his chin, inching closer until their lips met. “Thank you for this,” she said softly.
He gave her a half smile then took a bite of his burger while he scanned around the amphitheater. “It’s a sold out show.”
Sofia looked behind her and saw thousands of people spilling in, filling up the seats and standing on the lawn section in the very back of the venue. Thousands of American flags waved in the slight June breeze; she’d never seen anything like that before. A frenetic energy sizzled in the air as the concert goers’ anticipation grew with each passing minute.
“How’re your nachos?” Wheelie asked.
“Super good. They’re extra cheesy. Want to try them?”
Wheelie shook his head and picked up his beer. Sofia checked over her shoulder again, trying to spot anyone in black leather, but all she saw were Stetsons, checkered shirts, chunky belt buckles, and cowboy boots. “I bet if this was a Metallica or Five Finger Death Punch concert, the crowd would be in black and there’d be a lot of Insurgents.” Sofia turned back around and looked at the crowd of people standing in the pit.
“For sure, but a lot of the brothers like country too.”
“Do you think any of them are going to be here?” What’s the chance of running into one of the guys with this many people?
“No one mentioned they were going to this concert. Most of the brothers are either hanging with their women, or at the roadhouse for the wet T-shirt contest and half price beers.”
Sofia relaxed. “I don’t want to run into anyone we know tonight.”
“We’re okay.” Wheelie picked up the bag and pulled out a frosted brownie then took a bite. “This is real good.”
The tempting scent of chocolate made her mouth water, and Sofia turned away.
“I know you like brownies. Remember when I’d drive you to the state pen, and you used to insist I stop at the convenience store on the way so you could get your fix?” He chuckled.
Sofia nodded, a smile beaming across her face. “Sometimes I couldn’t wait to go just so I could get the brownies. I’ve always loved them. I remember special afternoons when my brothers and I would go over to Grandma’s after school, and the whole house would be filled with a warm, comforting aroma of chocolate, butter, and flour. She’d be baking in the kitchen, and a platter stacked with the richest, gooiest brownies would be sitting on the table along with a glass of milk for each of us.” Sofia stared in the distance, the memories filling her mind. “I loved my grandma. She was the nicest, sweetest person, and she was my anchor, my refuge … but then she died when I was twelve, and I lost my safe space. God … I loved her,” she said in a barely audible voice.
Wheelie curled his arm around Sofia and tugged her to him then kissed the top of her head. “It sucks when we lose the people we love.”
Sofia glanced up and she saw a faraway look in Wheelie’s gaze as he stared past the stage, and she suspected the ghosts from his past were rattling inside his head too. She placed her hand on top of his and squeezed it. “I’m sorry for whatever painful memory you have in your head right now.”
Wheelie’s gaze snapped to hers. “Life is a collection of painful memories, baby.” He smiled. “We’re at a fuckin’ concert. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to one. I think the last one I went to was a few years back at Red Rocks. It kicked ass.” Wheelie swiped some of the frosting off the top with his finger and stared at her. “Have a taste. Open your mouth.”
The image of her past scattered to the corners of her mind as tingles scuttled down her spine.
“Come on. Just a bite.” Wheelie’s gaze didn’t waver from hers.
Sofia did as he asked, and the sweetness of chocolate slid past her lips then bumped slightly against her tongue. She swirled it around his finger, licking every bit of the frosting off.
Wheelie slowly moved his finger in and out of her mouth, his gray eyes intense. “Does it taste good?” he said in a husky voice.
“Mmm … so good. So sweet. So sinful.” Looking up at him through lowered lashes, Sofia smiled.
“Fuck,” Wheelie grunted, smearing a small bit of frosting on her bottom lip, and then leaned in and gently sucked it between his teeth.
A current of arousal sparked, making her shiver with need and want. Sofia grasped the back of Wheelie’s neck and drew him closer, kissing him deeply and desiring so much more. The brownie fell on the concrete when his palm cupped her breast; the slow flick of his thumb crossed her taut nipple as it strained against the fabric of her top.
“You make me crazy,” he muttered, peppering kisses over her neck.
Sofia’s head lolled back, but Wheelie tangled his hand in her hair and yanked her face up, crushing his lips to hers, then thrusting his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of beer and chocolate and her whole body quivered under his kiss.
“Excuse me, those are our seats,” a woman dressed in Daisy Dukes shorts and a star-spangled bikini top said, pointing to the empty seats next to Sofia. Behind the woman, a man in a white cowboy hat nodded; his face was as red as a tomato.
Sofia jerked away from Wheelie and leapt up, pressing the backs of her knees against the seat of her chair. Wheelie bent down and picked up his beer then stepped out into the aisle. The couple scooted by and Sofia smiled weakly at them, her body still buzzing from Wheelie’s touch.
She gazed over the white muscle shirt stretched tight across Wheelie’s chest, and her stare collided with his. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, and her pulse quickened as he tracked the gesture. When his eyes returned to hers, the burning heat in them turned Sofia’s legs to liquid and she slinked down into the chair.
Another couple shuffled into the row and Sofia rose and stood on wobbly legs. Over the top of a cowboy hat, she met Wheelie’s gaze. He winked at her and she smiled back, her whole body still humming. Wheelie pointed to the empty plastic cup and mouthed “You want another one?” Sofia shook her head then watched him walk up the aisle, admiring the way his tight jeans fit him just right. She saw many women ogle his butt
and warmth spread through her. I’ve got the hottest and sweetest guy here, and he’s all mine tonight.
By the time Wheelie returned, the opening band had started and Sofia was standing up, swaying her hips to the music as she got lost in the rhythm and lyrics of the song. It was a perfect night: good music, a great guy, and a million stars twinkling overhead.
An hour and a half later, Sofia’s throat was hoarse and parched from all the screaming and whistling she had done with the first two bands. Stagehands scrambled to prepare for Jason Aldean to come out, and the anticipation from the audience was off the charts.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Sofia said to Wheelie. “I want to make sure I get back in time before Jason Aldean comes out.”
“I’ll go with you.” Wheelie stood up and clasped her hand.
Sofia bit her inner cheek to keep from grinning. Wheelie always looked out for her, but in a healthy, protective way that was so far removed from Tigger’s jealous and angry demeanor. Whenever they were out, Tigger would overreact if a guy just glanced at her, and after he set the guy straight with his fists or his threats, Sofia would pay the price at home when Tigger called her out on flirting with the man. It was crazy and it made her walk on eggshells all the time. The past several days spent with Wheelie were liberating, and Sofia had made up her mind to call Cara the first thing the following morning for a referral of a divorce attorney.
After she came out of the ladies’ room, Wheelie snaked his arm around her, and they walked back toward their seats when Sofia heard a deep, gruff voice behind them.
“Wheelie?”
Wheelie stopped abruptly, and Sofia fell backward into him—his body turned rigid like a board.
“Hey,” Wheelie said in a flat voice as his arm slipped away from her.
Sofia turned around and met Hawk’s dark, glowering stare. Shit! Hawk likes country music? With her heartbeat racing, she shuffled back a few steps.
Hawk narrowed his eyes at hers then darted to Wheelie’s then back to hers. “Sofia,” he gritted, jerking his head toward her.
“Hi,” she answered in a small voice. “Wheelie was nice enough to take me to see my favorite singer. I never would’ve been able to get here, it being an hour and a half away from Pinewood Springs. And the tickets were too expensive. I’ve wanted to see Jason Aldean in like forever, but …” Hawk’s piercing blue eyes impaled her, and she wrung her hands over and over, breaking contact with him and looking downward. An overwhelming need to defend Wheelie, to act casual, to diffuse the anger rippling across the vice president’s face pressed down on her.
Wheelie clutched her hand and squeezed it, and Sofia looked up at him and noticed a knot of muscles at the side of his jaw pulsing. “It’s okay,” he mouthed, and her heart sank because she knew it was far from okay. The way Hawk bared his teeth, his nostrils flaring, Sofia was pretty sure this was it for Wheelie. And it’s all my fault.
“Sofia. Wheelie. It’s so nice to see you here. I didn’t know you were Jason Aldean fans. Hawk’s crazy about him.” Cara smiled brightly and grasped her old man’s arm.
Hawk looked at his old lady. “Why don’t you walk Sofia back to her seat? I wanna talk to Wheelie.”
Cara shook her head. “That’s silly. We can all meet up after the concert. The show’s going to start soon. Don’t you feel the excitement building?”
Scowling, Hawk pulled away from Cara’s grip. “Do as I ask.” His voice was calm, cold, and deadly.
Cara stared for a couple of seconds at him then turned to Sofia. “Let’s get going. I don’t want to miss a minute of the performance. Where are you sitting?”
Sofia just stood there, glued to the spot; she didn’t want to leave him alone with Hawk.
Gently nudging her, the corners of Wheelie’s mouth quirked upward. “Go on. I’ll be there soon.”
Shuffling her feet, Sofia followed Cara, but she kept looking over her shoulder making sure Wheelie was all right.
“He’ll be okay,” Cara said as they walked down the center aisle.
“I shouldn’t have come.”
“Why not? I know you and Wheelie like each other. It’s okay to have a friendship with one of the brothers.”
Sofia pressed her lips together. “From the way Hawk looked, I don’t think he agrees. Anyway, he knows it’s more than a friendship. I’ll feel awful if Wheelie gets kicked out of the club.”
Cara patted Sofia’s shoulder. “He knew the risk and he took it. That’s romantic. Wheelie’s a real good man.”
“He is, but the Insurgents are his lifeblood.” Sofia stopped by their row of seats. “I don’t know how he’ll function without the brotherhood.”
“He’ll have you. You’ll help him through if it comes to that.”
Hope welled inside Sofia. “You think there’s a chance Banger won’t throw Wheelie out?”
“Life usually holds chances for us. Don’t dwell on it, and don’t let this ruin your evening out.” Cara turned her body halfway and pointed to the left of her. “We’re sitting on the second tier. Your seats are way better than ours. There’s no way in hell that Hawk can see you two.”
“Thanks. I planned on calling you in the morning to ask for the name of a divorce attorney. I’m leaving Tigger.”
Cara squealed and hugged Sofia tight against her. “I’m so happy to hear that. I’ll help you out in any way. Belle and Addie too. Just let us know what you need, and we’ll be right there for you. The other old ladies feel the same, but I wouldn’t say anything to Doris or Marlena. You know how they can be.”
Sofia nodded. “Thanks.”
Then the crowd exploded. Lights flashed. The sound of guitars and fiddles filled the amphitheater. Sofia whirled around just as the blue-jeaned, denim-shirted, and cowboy hat-wearing Aldean appeared on stage, a guitar strapped across him as florescent lights shone down.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Cara yelled in Sofia’s ear and then she dashed away.
The performance was electric, and under ordinary circumstances, Sofia would’ve been mesmerized by it, but all she could think about was Wheelie, and Hawk chewing his ass out. By the time the fourth song was in full swing, Wheelie slipped in beside Sofia and tugged her to him then gave her a kiss.
“Is everything okay?” she yelled in his ear.
He gave a slight shrug then pointed to the stage which told her he didn’t want to talk about it. As the concert unfolded, Sofia let herself get lost in the songs, the lights, and the sheer entertainment from her country idol.
A few hours later, Wheelie merged onto the freeway as they headed back to Pinewood Springs. The lanes stretched into the horizon, appearing as if they’d be swallowed up by the star-speckled and cloudless sky. Sofia rolled the window down and deeply breathed in the scent of pine, sagebrush, and sweet wildflowers. The wind blew Sofia’s hair into a tousled mane, and after searching through her purse, she pulled her hair back and secured it with the scrunchie she’d finally found. Sofia glanced over at Wheelie and noticed that his back was ramrod straight. Both of his hands clenched the steering wheel, and his lips were pressed in a tight line as he stared directly ahead. Wheelie liked hard rock music when he drove, and Sofia nearly reached over to turn the radio on but figured it wouldn’t calm the storm brewing inside him at that moment, so she stared at the darkened landscape racing by.
Should I say something? Shivers of panic intertwined with threads of fear as they drove in silence. Sofia couldn’t even count the number of times Tigger had given her the silent treatment because he was pissed off at her about some thing or another, and by the time they would arrive home he’d be livid, and then he’d take out his wrath on her small, soft body. Tension curled around her as her mother’s voice echoed in her head, “All men are brutal. They all wanna hurt us. You just gotta take it if you want a man.”
Is Wheelie really like Tigger? He never seemed that way, but then he’s never been angry at me. Men change into beasts when they get angry. I never thought you’d be that way, Wh
eelie. We’ve had so—
“Did you like the concert?”
The sound of his deep voice made her jump, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the cry that almost came out. Trembling, she turned to look at him. The beginning of a smile tugged on his lips, and damn his were soft, reaching inside her to a raw, tender place. Sofia uncrossed her ankles and swiveled in the seat.
“I loved it. It totally rocked. What about you?”
“Fuckin’ awesome.” Wheelie put his hand on top of hers; it was warm as the sun’s rays.
“I’m so glad you loved it.” Sofia pushed the stray hairs flying around her face into the scrunchie and rolled the window up. “Are you okay? I don’t want to bring it up if it’ll make you mad or something.”
“Sofia, you can bring anything up to me. Even if I’m pissed as hell, we can talk about it. I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me. I’m not Tigger. I never could be. And … yeah … I’m okay.”
She licked her parched lips, then fished around the cooler Wheelie had brought with them and took out a Diet Dr. Pepper. “Is Hawk going to tell Banger?”
“It’s what he has to do. I knew the risk, and it’s okay. I don’t want you to blame yourself for this. I mean it. It’s on me … all the way.” Wheelie lifted her hand and kissed it gently.
A comfortable silence fell between them. There was nothing more Sofia, or Wheelie, could say, for that matter. They’d been found out. They’d rolled the dice and lost, and even though they knew how dire the consequences would be, they threw caution to the wind. Sofia couldn’t imagine not having Wheelie in her life, and she hoped he felt the same as her. Sadness pervaded every nook and cranny in her heart and soul, and even though Wheelie kept telling her it wasn’t her fault, she felt responsible for ending his life as an Insurgent.
When they arrived back in Pinewood Springs, the town was quiet and dark except for the amber lights glowing from the street lamps lining each side of the road. Since it was a weeknight, all the bars and clubs had turned off their lights and locked their doors at midnight, leaving the downtown area eerily vacant except for the random car driving on Main Street every once in a while.
