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Chapter Five
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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 blasting.
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.
