Emma must feel me go rigid next to her as I feel her eyes on the side of my face before she turns to follow my line of sight.
“See, told ya he’d be here...” The last word trails off as she takes in the same scene that I am.
Hudson’s sitting at a round high top table to the right of the stage, a stunning brunette in his lap, and two blondes filling the other two seats next to him.
The woman in his lap leans down and whispers something in his ear. He drops his head back and laughs, the sound seeming to vibrate through me even though I can’t actually hear it.
“Probably just some groupie.” Emma bumps her shoulder against mine.
And that’s when it happens. That’s when I watch the perfect brunette dip her head, her lips landing on Hudson’s. I watch as she practically swallows his face for all of three seconds before I move in the opposite direction.
My chest feels tight and tears sting the back of my nose the instant the cool evening air hits my face. Walking a good ten feet away from the front entrance, I don’t stop until Emma’s fingers close around my wrist from behind.
“Lennon.”
“Do not Lennon me.” I rip my arm out of her grasp, spinning on my heel to face her. “I told you to leave it alone. I told you I didn’t want to do this. I knew this would happen. I knew it.” I throw my hands up in the air.
“You don’t even know what’s going on in there, Len. She could be nothing more than some bimbo trying to throw herself at the hot guy on the mic tonight.”
“Sure didn’t look like she had to throw very hard,” I bite, emotion welling in my throat.
I’m pissed. Pissed that I came here against my better judgment. Pissed that less than a week after he was in my bed, he’s making out with another girl. When I’ve been unable to think about anything but him. And I’m furious with myself for feeling as hurt as I do right now.
I’m not naïve enough to believe that after a one night stand he would swear off any woman that wasn’t me. But deep down I’d hoped it would take him longer to shake me. Lord knows I haven’t shaken him.
Song worthy. That’s what his note had said. Song worthy. Yeah, maybe a song about all the notches in his bedpost. My stomach rolls at the thought.
“Lennon,” Emma tries again.
“What did I expect?” I swipe angrily at a tear that manages to escape my eye; even more pissed that I’m crying over him too.
Crying.
Me.
Over a man I don’t even know.
A man who I slept with one night and intended to never see again.
“You like him. It was worth a try. I’m sorry I insisted you come. You’re right, this was a bad idea all around. I just hated the idea of you letting the first guy who really affected you to walk out of your life so easily.”
“This isn’t your fault.” My voice softening when I see the regret on her face.
“Yes it is. There was never a plan to meet up with Colton, Len. I made that up. At some point during the night he mentioned that Hudson had landed a gig at Thrive for that next weekend and how big of a deal it was for him. I didn’t think much of it until I saw you the next morning. You looked so happy. I wanted you to hang onto that.”
“You set this whole thing up for me to see Hudson again?” I question, my voice breaking in the middle.
“I remembered the name of the bar because I thought it was a cool name. I didn’t see where it would hurt to show up. I thought you two would see each other and none of what I did to get you here would matter.”
“That wasn’t your call, Em. You lied to me.” Angry tears start to rebuild behind my eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Len. Truly. I thought I was doing something good for you. You know, giving you the push you needed.”
“Yeah, you pushed me flat on my face.” I ignore the look of hurt that flashes across her own. It’s easier to be mad at her than to admit it’s really myself I’m angry with.
I was the one who went to bed with him knowing I wasn’t the kind of person capable of a one night stand. The one who came here foolishly believing that a one night stand I claimed to be okay with would turn into something more. This was all on me.
“I want to go home now,” I say, hugging my arms around myself.
“Of course.” Emma nods once before I turn and start walking further away from Thrive and the man that may have just unknowingly broken my heart.
Chapter Five
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Come on, bitches. We’re gonna be late,” my sister calls from the open door of our hotel suite.
“The concert doesn’t start for another four hours,” I remind Starr, quickly slapping on another layer of bright red lipstick that matches the ridiculous shirts Starr is forcing all of us to wear.
We were all provided with two tanks to wear for the weekend. One for Friday night to attend the concert of Starr’s favorite country artist, Travis Travers. The other for Saturday when we will be bar hopping and drinking until we forget our names. My sister’s words, not mine.
Tonight’s tanks have our roles in her wedding printed across the front in bold red lettering and whatever stupid nick name she has dubbed for everyone on the back.
Mine says Maid of Honor on the front and Luscious Lennon on the back. I bit my tongue and rolled with it because, well, she’s my little sister and she’s getting married. If there’s any time she gets to do things her way, this is it.
Besides, it could be worse. My tank could say Slutty Sandy like our poor cousin’s does.
My sister does nothing small and this weekend is no exception. Lucky for Starr, she landed herself an incredible man who worships the ground she walks on. At twenty-five, she’s found a man ten years her senior, who has done pretty well for himself financially and is determined to give her everything she wants. Including her dream bachelorette party weekend in Nashville.
Not only did my future brother-in-law pay for this incredible suite that we are all sharing for the weekend, he also got all six of us ‘impossible to find’ Travis Travers tickets when they had been sold out for months.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous of what my sister found. Not that I would go for Mark. He’s so far from my type it’s almost comical. But he’s good for Starr. They’re good together.
It’s more what they share that has me staring face to face with the ugly green monster nearly every time I’m around them. The way he looks at her. The way she looks at him. God, what I wouldn’t give to have someone look at me that way and mean it.
My mind flashes to Gage and a full body tremor runs through me. I thought I had found something with Gage. I’d spent two years convinced that I had. Until six months ago when the rug got pulled out from underneath me and I have still yet to find my footing.
“Ladies.” Starr pulls my attention back to where she’s still standing in the doorway, her sandaled foot tapping the floor impatiently.
My sister and I look a lot alike. She’s slimmer than me, lacking my boobs and hips, and her hair’s about two shades darker than mine but other than that you might swear we were twins. More than once we’ve been mistaken as just that.
“Alright, girls. Let’s wrap this up before Princess Starr has a conniption and we all spend the rest of the evening paying for it.” I smile at my sister who instantly flips me off, tossing her hair over one shoulder.
It takes me nearly five minutes to gather my sister’s three friends – Chelsea, Julie, and Jaime – and our cousin Sandy and usher them all out the door. As the maid of honor my sister put me in charge of keeping everyone on task and on time.
Oh joy!
The party bus Mark rented for us is waiting on the curb of the hotel when we step outside. The instant the warm air engulfs me sweat forms at the nape of my neck.
It’s summer. Summer in Florida is hot. Summer in Nashville is torture. The air is so much heavier making it feel almost impossible to breathe sometimes. Thankfully when we step into the party bus the air conditioning is bla
sting.
It’s around ninety-five degrees out and my bridezilla of a sister is making us stand out under the blaring sun for nearly four hours to ensure she is close to the stage for when Travis Travers comes out.
Four hours...
In the middle of the summer...
I don’t even really like Travis Travers. I mean, he’s cute, is probably one of the only country artists who can pull off skinny jeans, and has a pretty stellar voice, but it’s his songs that don’t strike a chord with me. Most of his music has little to no meaning for me and I have trouble truly enjoying it. To me music is all about the connection, the meaning, the words, the way it makes me feel.
Needless to say, she’s lucky I love her.
Since we’re staying downtown and the concert is taking place at the football stadium just a few blocks away, we could have walked with no issue, but Starr was having none of that. So, in true Mark fashion, he rented a bus and paid a pretty penny to have it sit on the curb all night before driving us the five minutes back to the hotel at the end of the concert.
A huge waste if you ask me.
We’ve just pulled onto the main strip when my eyes land on the large sign that I know first-hand is lit in neon lettering at night. Thrive.
My stomach twists and a weird knot forms in the back of my throat. I haven’t been to Nashville since that night five years ago.
I can’t believe it’s been five years.
Hudson’s face instantly flashes in front of my eyes. I can still see him in my mind like it was yesterday. Weird, I know, considering I spent less than twelve hours with the man. But there he is, etched into my mind as if I’d known him half my life.
My phone vibrates in the back pocket of my cut off jean shorts, snapping me from my trance. Pulling it out, I smile when I see Emma’s name flash across the screen, glancing up just in time to see Thrive disappear through the back window of the bus.
“Are you ready to kill her yet?” Are the first words that leave my best friend’s mouth.
“We’re heading to the concert nearly four hours early. What do you think?” I mutter quietly into the phone.
“Ouch. Why not just tell her you’ll meet her there when the concert actually starts?” she suggests.
“You think I didn’t try that one already,” I retort.
“Didn’t go for it, huh?” She chuckles.
“Not for a second,” I deadpan. “And to make matters worse, I have to deal with her all by myself because my best friend totally bailed on me to spend the week in Cancun with her perfect husband.” I pretend gag into the phone.
Emma met Robert around the same time I met Gage. Robert is amazing. Dark skin, dark eyes, a smile that lights up an entire room. Emma has always been the most beautiful person in a crowd but Robert is her perfect equal. Together they will have the most gorgeous babies on planet Earth.
They dated about a year before she finally moved in with him. Two months later I moved in with Gage, leaving behind the condo that Emma and I had shared since freshman year of college. The condo her dad generously re-rented to me at half the normal cost after things with Gage went south.
Emma and Robert got married six months ago. It was actually the night of their wedding when I found out Gage had been cheating on me for months and had gotten the girl pregnant. Not a fair trade off if you ask me.
So while my best friend floats around in perfect wedded bliss and my sister floats around in soon to be perfect wedded bliss, I’m dragging my bitter ass out of bed every morning wondering why I seem to be the only one who can’t find ‘the one’.
“I totally would be there if I could. You know I would,” Emma says, pulling me back to the present, her smile reflected through her tone.
“Don’t lie. You are thanking your lucky stars that your vacation just happened to fall on the same weekend. Otherwise you know I would have made you come.”
“Okay. I won’t deny that I would much rather be here.” She giggles, covering the phone as she says something to who I’m assuming is Robert. “I still feel bad that I’m not there for you,” she finally adds.
“Yeah. Yeah. Save that shit for someone who’ll believe it.”
“Hello, Lennon,” Robert says into the phone.
“Hello, Mister stole my best friend but I love you anyway because you make her insanely happy,” I reply.
“You’re too easy on me,” he replies and I realize Emma has me on speaker phone.
“I figure you have to deal with Emma. How much can one man take?”
He chuckles, followed by what sounds like a smack, no doubt Emma laying into him for laughing, drifts over the line.
“Okay, you two. I gotta go. Four hours of unbearable heat followed by four hours of music I’m sure I won’t enjoy is calling to me.”
“Who knows, maybe something amazing will happen.” That’s Emma’s staple response whenever I try to be a pessimist. She tries to balance it out with her eternal optimism.
“I’ll be sure to hold my breath.” I roll my eyes.
“You’ll be back on Monday, right? We’ve got that big beach house project coming up. The contractors are already there gutting it so we should be able to go in and start sketching the design by then.”
“I knew you couldn’t resist talking about work,” Robert says, a playful annoyance in his voice.
“Of course not, she is her father’s daughter,” I remind him.
“There you two go again, ganging up on me,” Emma whines playfully.
“On that note, I gotta go, love birds. Be safe and I’ll see you on Monday, Em.”
“Okay, love you,” Emma offers, followed by Robert’s very over the top, “Love you, Lennon.”
“Love you both too. Though sometimes I question my sanity,” I quip, hearing Robert’s deep chuckle and Emma’s dramatic gasp seconds before I end the call.
Shoving the device back into my pocket, I tune into the conversation happening on the bus just in time to hear my sister telling Chelsea that she’s going to flash her boobs at Travis Travers to see if he’ll pull her on stage.
I open my mouth to point out that she will most likely be one of hundreds of women that will try that exact same stunt to grab the hot country star’s attention. Never mind that she’s getting married in two weeks’ time so she should definitely not be doing anything of the sort, but knowing it will do me no good I snap it closed.
Once the driver swings around to the front of the stadium and opens the door, the girls file out one after the other, me being the last to exit. I feel like a mother agreeing to take five teenage girls to see Justin Bieber with the way they all bounce down the sidewalk with excitement, quickly joining the line of people already waiting.
Even though I’m only two years older than Starr and her friends and one year older than Sandy, I feel like we are all worlds apart. I’m not really sure when I became the old mother hen of the group but I do know how much I dislike the thought.
Chapter Six
I’m done. I’ve gone from standing outside the stadium roasting my ass off to standing inside the stadium still roasting my ass off. I’ve guzzled beer after beer at ten bucks a pop hoping it will provide me with some kind of relief but it’s done no good. I’m pretty sure the alcohol is just seeping out of my sweat glands seconds after I drink it.
I’m hot. I’m tired. I’m currently squished between hundreds of people not far from the stage, and even though I feel like I’ve been walking around in sky high heels for the last several hours, there’s nowhere for me to sit to get any kind of relief.
The opening act left the stage a few minutes ago. Some guy/girl group that I’d never heard of. They weren’t awful, but they weren’t good enough to make me forget how miserable I was either.
Thankfully the sun has almost fully set and while it’s still warm, without the blazing heat bearing down on me I’m finally starting to cool off a little.
The crowd around us buzzes waiting for the second act to take the stage. Meanwhile, I check
my cell phone for the hundredth time wondering how much longer they could possibly take. At this rate we’re going to be here all night. I don’t relish the idea.
“Here.” I look up from my phone just in time to see Sandy peek through the crowd, holding out a beer to me.
“You’ve been gone forever,” I comment, sliding my phone into the back pocket of my shorts. I take a long guzzle of the cold liquid the second it’s in my hand.
“The lines are ridiculous.” She shakes her head. “I’m remembering why I don’t come to huge concerts like this.”
“Yeah, you and me both.”
“There’s at least twenty people back there that threatened to kick my ass on my way back here. They didn’t want to let me by them. Like one person is going to make any kind of difference as to how close they get to the stage.” She rolls her blue eyes, taking a drink of her own beer.
“Yeah, I experienced that earlier.” When it had been my turn to do the beer run I almost couldn’t get back to the group.
“Insanity.” She shakes her head, taking another long pull of her beer. “At least they’re twenty-four ounces, otherwise we’d be doing more beer runs than anything else.” She gestures to the can in her hand.
I nod, glancing around when the lights suddenly dim and the song blaring from the speakers cuts out. The crowd erupts in applause moments later as the second band takes the stage.
“Who is this, anyway?” I ask Sandy as we both turn our attention toward the stage, catching sight of my sister and her three friends two rows in front of us.
“Hudson James,” she yells over the opening chords of the guitar.
“Never heard of him.”
“He sings that Tequila Haze song that’s on the radio a lot.”
“Gotcha.” I nod my head, having heard the song a couple times recently.
“Holy shit. That man is fine!” I watch my cousin openly gawk before I follow her line of sight.
The second I locate the man she’s talking about, everything goes fuzzy. He steps up to the microphone and smiles out at the audience.
Tequila Page 5
