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"Excellent. Then you can't actually stop me from going. If I tell you I'm going, I’m going. And it's your job to keep me safe there."
He straightened then. "Nissa, you wouldn't dare."
I grinned at him, the little flare of rebellion taking root. "You can't actually stop me from going. What are you going to do, tell my father? Sure, tell him. I don't care. If he's going to control me, I'm at least going to take the opportunity for a night of fun, and you're not going to stop me."
14
Nissa
Maybe this wasn't the best idea.
But no one would never, ever, ever hear me tell Westin that. I'd never actually been to a festival before. There were some things that I loved, the energy, people everywhere, and everyone having a fantastic time. We had the tickets for the Larkin portion of the concert because they were on the back half. The front half included acts like Kelly Rowland and Harry Styles. And that was a different ticket altogether. Could I have gotten that ticket? Sure. But that would have required my father's influence, and like hell was I going to call him. So I was going to be happy with these tickets.
Westin was a statue next to me. He was so tense it rolled off him in waves. Everything from the rigidity of his jaw to the stiff way he held his shoulders. He was on alert. Constantly watching. Jamila and Adam were already pissed to the winds and having a grand time. Jamila was extra bubbly.
Once Westin realized that I had every intention of going to the concert, he'd backed down. Though yesterday, I really thought he would tell my father and get the plug pulled. But for some reason he hadn’t.
Maybe the old Westin was in there somewhere.
There were several opening acts that came on, and the crowd wasn't too bad. We still had an hour before the Larkin show started. Westin had gotten additional guards who turned up. I didn't know what he’d told my father. Hell, I almost didn't care. I was going to relish the fact that I was being allowed out for a little bit of freedom. All day, all night, for as long as I was allowed. We'd all been driven here, which was probably for the best considering that Jamila and Adam were already pissed to the wind. Jamila grabbed my hand and twirled me around. I couldn't help but smile and giggle. She started singing the lyrics to one of the songs.
I joined in and wondered when was the last time that I’d genuinely had fun without worrying constantly and thinking about what was hovering around the corner. This concert was just what I needed, and I was going to enjoy myself. I would let Westin worry about the safety and security of it all, and I was going to have bloody fun.
Adam clapped Westin on the shoulder, but Westin just scowled at him, trying to corral us to the front of the main stadium where we were supposed to be. More and more people filed in over the next hour. And with each new person, Westin looked more stressed and more hyper-vigilant.
It was only after we heard the gong and we took our positions in the cordoned-off VIP section that he relaxed just a little. "Nothing bad is going to happen. I keep telling you, you're a hundred percent unnecessary."
He glanced around and then pressed his earpiece. "You let me worry about that."
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to the stage. Briston Aker, lead singer of Larkin, was gorgeous with shaggy sandy-blond hair, green eyes, the kind of whip-cord lean body that rock stars were apparently required to have, complete with six-pack abs, and he looked just a little bit dirty.
Jamila and I started to scream, singing along and dancing. It was then that I looked over at Westin, and he had on a half-smirk as he watched me. I smiled at him, and he blinked in surprise, as he was completely not expecting that. When he grinned back, I noticed he’d started to mouth the words as well, and I could see the old him in there somewhere, lurking, trying to peek out instead of being locked away.
By the time the third song came on, we were all feeling looser, having fun, and enjoying the experience. Adam had Jamila wrapped in his arms. Westin's hand brushed with mine, and I was sort of surprised by the contact. I lost my footing, pushing into the rail. He immediately wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in tight to steady me. "All right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
He nodded and went to release me, but I glanced up at him. "You know all these words, don't you?"
His brow furrowed. "No, I don't."
"Yes, you do. I heard you listening to this last night."
"There's no fucking way."
"I could hear you in your room. You were playing the album."
He lifted a brow. "Eavesdropping, Beauty?"
"Well, you were playing it loudly enough for me to hear."
I couldn't for the life of me understand why I did it. If you asked me later, I would deny it entirely. But I started moving in time with the music, letting the deep base of the beat infiltrate my lungs and my soul, and my muscles, and I started dancing against him. I twirled in his arms, singing loudly along to the music, relaxing because I knew that with him, I was safe. Wasn't I?
I could pretend for one night that I was the girl at a concert with her mates, having a good time, and I opted to relax and enjoy myself.
What was interesting was that he didn't move away. Instead, he placed his hands on my hips and let me move.
There were all manner of reasons to hate and despise him, to never trust him again. There were reasons to worry about my heart in his presence, but in that moment, I wanted to pretend that I was someone else and he was someone else, and we were just there in the moment.
