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Chapter Twenty-FiveRooster

The next morning, much sooner than I’d like, I’m watching Shelby pack up her stuff and helping her carry it all downstairs.

“I feel bad you can’t ride,” she says, staring at the truck.

“I’ll live.” I glance down at her bare legs and tiny denim shorts. “Looking over at your sexy legs for the next couple hours helps a lot.”

She wiggles her eyebrows and prances over to the truck, putting on a good show of climbing on the running board and bending over to “fix” stuff in the backseat.

I walk up behind her and run my hands from her thighs to her hips. “Why you trying to tease me? Hmm?”

“You two planning to go at it right here in the parking lot?” Jigsaw calls out.

I squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten before flipping him off.

“Those are some mighty fine shorts, Shelby,” Jigsaw says, “Always had a thing for daisy dukes.”

I stare him down. “Do you want to die? Painfully?”

“Thank you, Jigsaw.” Shelby turns and jumps off the truck, her boots crunching against the gravel.

My best friend will be begging for death if he keeps staring at her tits like he’s some damn homeless street dog.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” I reach out and smack him upside the head.

“Paying the lady a compliment. Is that so wrong?”

“The compliment was lovely. I think it’s you droolin’ over my tits that’s gettin’ Rooster all peeved,” Shelby drawls. She cups her chest and stares down. “I know they’re fabulous, but have a little respect.”

Jigsaw’s mouth twists with amusement. “I like her.”

“Get out of here.” I shove him toward his bike and he laughs the whole way.

“You two really are like brothers,” Shelby says.

“He certainly works my last nerve like a little brother.”

Dex pops out of the garage for a last-minute review of the directions. At least he’s nothing but respectful to Shelby.

Once we’re on the Thruway headed west, Jigsaw and Dex pull in front of me.

Shelby’s been quiet for a few miles.

“You all right?” I ask her.

“Just thinking about tonight. Will it be weird for you if I warm up my voice a little?”

“Not at all.”

I wasn’t expecting a free concert but I also wasn’t expecting her to launch into humming. She works her way up to signing vowels from a low to high range. Every few minutes, she stops and sips her water.

“You all right?”

“The AC and the smoke from the weekend has me a little raspy.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“What was I gonna say? Put out the bonfire? Tell your brothers they can’t smoke in their own clubhouse?”

Well, now I feel like shit. “Is there anything I can stop and get for you?”

“Heidi packed some grapes and watermelon for me. I need the hydration.” She taps the side of her thermos. “Trinity sent me with some tea. We got lots of water back there. I’ll be okay.” She glances over at me. “Well, I might ask you to stop so I can pee a few dozen times.”

“Whatever you need. You should’ve told me, though. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or do anything to risk your voice.”

“And yet you’re always trying to make me scream your name.”

My mouth twitches. “That’s different.”

“Psh.” She waves her hand in front of her face and throws me one of her teasing smiles that does weird shit to my insides. After a few more sips of water, she goes back to humming and vocalizing.

“I never knew singers had a process like this,” I say when she finishes.

“Some probably don’t. I didn’t until I worked with a vocal coach on the show. I used to open my mouth and let whatever noises wanted to come out, out. Which is fine, if you’re singing for fun or tips. But if I want to be able to do this night after night, I need to take care of my voice.”

“And I want to help you do that. So next time, tell me.”

She glances over and rests her hand on my thigh. “Thank you.”

After a few miles, she fiddles with her phone. “We’re gettin’ close.”

Tonight, we’re all going in blind. None of us have ever been to this place.

“Hope the directions are good.”

I signal to the guys a couple miles before our exit. At least it’s not a state park.

“It says we should be able to drive right up to Gate 9A and let them know we’re on the list.”

These fairgrounds have much clearer signs letting us know where to go than the last one. Unfortunately, that also means the security will probably be on the ball.

Shelby and I are able to get past the gate because we’re on the list. Jigsaw and Dex have to wait outside.

“This is so ridiculous. Greg has to be able to get more passes for me,” Shelby fumes.

Especially if he can’t even provide decent security for her.

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