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If this show didn’t start soon, she wasn’t entirely sure Molly and Ethan would be the only ones fucking. If they did.
“But Molly though?” Denver asked, turning her head so only Ry could hear her. “She’s so not into sex.”
“Neither were you, if anyone believed your facade.” Ryan gripped her hip, his fingers pressing into soft skin. “Even I did for a while.”
“You didn’t think about me and sex. C’mon.”
“I couldn’t think about you and sex, because I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else.”
A scrape of equipment onstage and the lowering of the lights around the grandstand made Denver suck down another sip of her beer. Thank God. She needed a distraction, and not the one currently pressed against her lower back as Ryan drew her into his arms. He didn’t seem capable of letting her go for a second.
She wished she didn’t like that quite so much.
Elle whistled beside them as blue, pink, and green lights popped on and a lone guy in a cowboy hat, flannel, and jeans came out, toting his guitar and a bottle of whisky. Flynn was starting the party off right. He took a deep swig and held up the bottle. “Y’all ready to let loose tonight?”
“Hell yeah!” Lo screamed on Elle’s other side, moving over to let Michael and West in between her and Elle. Denver couldn’t see what was happening that clearly because it was dark and there were too many bodies pressed together, but West’s head came down close to Lo’s neck, and it wasn’t hard to guess what direction they would be headed in soon too.
“Sucks to not be part of a couple with all these pheromones flying around,” Elle said to Denver, who tried to look sympathetic despite the fact that Ryan’s hand was now sliding under the hem of her jersey to toy with the button on her jeans.
Denver guzzled her beer as the rest of Flynn’s band took their spots onstage and launched into his biggest hit, “Halfway Gone.” It was a guitar-heavy song, the perfect complement to Flynn’s deep voice. He clutched the microphone in one hand, bending low to growl out his pain, but that bottle on the stool beside him was never too far away.
They all had their crutches. Her too.
Flynn’s set went from hard-driving country rock to a few heartrending ballads that had a sharper edge than pure country. He was definitely an artist who straddled the line, and never seemed to land solidly on either side. But he rocked out sometimes and could belt a traditional country tune when he wanted to as well.
He drank the same amount no matter what he played on his guitar or ripped out of his throat. She didn’t know if he smoked, but he certainly had that gritty rasp. The one that said he might be okay right now, but check back tomorrow.
She understood the sentiment.
After they finished their beers and set the cups in the grass, Ryan kept the beat by tapping his fingers on her belly and occasionally humming in her ear, which was so much hotter than it had any right to be.
Beside her, Michael and Elle were dancing in a kind of goofy, giggly sort of way. Denver was glad to see her friend having a good time. Well, both of her friends, but Elle in particular in this case. On Michael and Elle’s other side, West and Lo were dirty dancing in their own inimitable way. Jules and Randy were wrapped together, swaying, listening to the music, staring into each other’s eyes. Not making out, but they might as well have been.
Mal was…where was Mal? He must’ve taken off. Probably hooking up with some random concertgoer. And Molly and Ethan were standing stiffly beside each other, not looking, not touching.
Denver turned her head to speak near Ryan’s ear. “You’re about to lose, Waters.” She jerked her chin, hoping Ry would follow her gaze to Molly and Ethan.
Instead he cupped her cheek in his hand and brought his mouth down to hers, spinning out the kiss while her heart hammered in her ears and she fought the urge to shove him back. They weren’t supposed to be public. The band guessing was one thing, but this…
His mouth slanted over hers, their heads bumping together and knocking off his hat. Rather than trying to retrieve it, she sank her fingers into his wild curls and cupped the back of his head, leaning backward until the twang and grit of the guitars and Flynn’s gravelly voice swelled around them, throbbing like a heart.
Her heart.
Flynn’s brief set and the kiss ended about the same time. Ry pressed his forehead to hers, and she was so rattled she didn’t turn around to applaud. Ryan didn’t either, just held on to her and shared her air and gave her a solid place to lean when she wasn’t sure her legs would keep her upright.
Elle and Michael were talking about the set, oblivious to them. West and Lo had wandered back to the blanket—probably for more moonshine, though Denver was surprised the little area they’d blocked out for themselves hadn’t been trampled. The place was packed.
When Michael and Elle and Randy and Jules wandered back to confer w
ith West and Lo, they had a clear line to Molly and Ethan.
Saying nothing, Ryan stroked his hand down Denver’s hair, and for a moment, snugged against his chest, she watched the other couple. They were apart from everyone else, somehow isolated in the crowd, and Ethan was behind Molly, his big hand under her chin. Tipping her head back so that her golden hair spilled over his arm. Fingers squeezing in a subtle show of dominance that had Denver clenching her thighs and closing her eyes until Ry’s warm breath against her temple made her look one more time.
Molly had turned just enough in Ethan’s arms that her mouth was right there. Ripe for his plucking. For the longest time, they hovered in that between space, and Denver sucked in a breath, almost unaware that she was clutching Ryan’s biceps.
As Ethan’s mouth touched Molly’s, Denver dug into flesh.
“Voyeur,” Ryan said into her ear, and she couldn’t deny it.
