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Christian groans but reluctantly obeys, and Taylor mutters something about a “hostile work environment" when he pulls away from Huck’s arms.
But Logan still doesn't look up. Devon’s smoke curls through the open window like a ghost between us as tension settles heavily in the RV.
For the first time since planning everything, I’m not sure if this trip will bring us all closer as friends—or rip our little family apart.
Engines scream as Tay and Christian hit the ramps in perfect sync for our first show in Kentucky.
Cheers from the crowd erupt around me. Cameras and phones flash, including mine as I catch them mid-air, frozen against the sunset, dirt flying from their back tires like fireworks.
Christian lands first, smooth as hell, throwing a fist pump to the crowd before circling back toward the ramp. Taylor follows with a One-Handed Hart Attack that has people gasping, his legs completely vertical toward the sky. God, they make this look easy.
Looping around for another jump, the two launch off opposite ramps simultaneously, flipping through the air like they’re weightless. The entire stadium holds its breath until they land, tires hitting dirt with twin puffs of smoke.
The roar from the crowd rattles my bones, pride swelling in my chest. But when I lower the camera to check the shots, Arya catches my attention. She's standing near the edge of the barricade, laughing at something Devon’s saying. My stomach flips when she brushes her fingertips down his arm.
He smirks and runs a hand through his messy hair, attention glued to her cleavage. It's only when he tips her chin up for a kiss that I fucking lose it.
The show’s still going, but all I can hear is blood pulsing in my ears. I’m moving before I can stop myself, shoving through bystanders, my Vans crunching over dirt and discarded drink cups.
Arya’s still smiling when I grab her by the wrist and haul her away from Devon’s cocky grin.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss sharply after spinning to face her.
She blinks, startled. “Um, talking?”
“With him? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Her blue eyes flash as she crosses her arms. “He’s hot. I’m not dead. Christian's cool with it. What’s the issue?”
“The issue,” I growl through clenched teeth, “is that Devon doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s an asshole, and oh, I don't know, my ex?”
“Ex situationship,” she corrects, putting a finger in the air. “You two were never serious.”
With a sigh, I rub my temples to ease the fast-approaching headache. “That’s not the point. Isn't there like… girl code or something?”
Arya gapes at me before bursting into a fit of laughter. “Girl code? Salem, you've fucked my boyfriend.”
“In high school,” I grumble, glaring at her.
“When you and Taylor were together, you begged me to fuck him while you watched.”
My lips twitch at the memory. “I was curious. Don't judge.”
“Not judging.” She smiles and wraps her arms around my neck. “Look, I'm pretty sure we violated girl code years ago. Our friendship is, um…”
“Fucked up?”
“I was going to say unique. Or unconventional.”
I scoff, sending Dev a death glare over her shoulder. He just smiles and waves. “Everything about our friend group is unconventional.”
“Which is why I love it.” Arya grins wide before smacking a big, wet kiss on my lips. “So don't be mad, 'kay?”
“You bitch.” I wipe off her gloss with a scowl. “I swear to God, if I get a cold sore from that prick, I'll be so pissed.”
She laughs again as she lets me go. “You won't. I'm being safe, I promise. And besides…” Trailing off, she tosses a glance at the boys still tearing it up in the stadium. “We haven’t fucked yet. Just kissed. Christian wants to share me.”
“Jesus, you two are horn dogs,” I mutter, earning a smirk in response.
