Page 46 of Something Like Sunflowers

“Ehemmm,” Robbie grinds out, breaking our kiss, and the silence I didn’t realize we caused. Several sets of eyes stare, fingers point, lips whisper in ears beside them. And they’re all looking at us. Lemon says something to Jeremy, and I see him nod, biting his lip to keep from smiling. I’m suddenly very aware of the position I’ve put myself in, and I frantically search around for cameras before I feel a squeeze and a light kiss on the back of my neck.

“It’s okay. You’re not in the city.”

Miss American Rodeo, whether she be reigning queen, future queen, or past, like me, isn’t usually supposed to be seen straddling cowboys in seedy bars and sucking their face off. Usually. And I may have been a hot topic for the tabloids when I was in my early twenties. Getting caught in places I shouldn’t have been with people I shouldn’t caused a lot of drama in my life. People always seem to think they know what they don’t.

I feel relieved when Hunter reminds me it’s not like that here. Half the people in this town are still living in the 90s. Most people around here don’t even have smart phones, and the only paper they get is the Farmer’s Almanac and the Pine Forest Courier, run by the same man who owns all the vending machines in the strip mall.

Yes, you heard that right. The one and only strip mall.

“It’s easy to forget Pine Forest doesn’t have reporters crawling all over the place when you’ve been away as long as I have.”

Hunter squeezes my shoulder, and I offer him a smile. Knowing he’s got my back even when he doesn’t really have to makes me feel safe.

Robbie enters our names into the app, and we all wait as it tells us the rules. It’s weird being in a time of AI and robots. I remember seeing movies about them as a kid and thinking how insane that culture would be, but here we are, letting a telephone tell us how to play a game older than time.

“Do we really need this thing to explain Truth or Dare?” I complain when the rules seem to drone on forever from his speaker.

Everyone laughs, even Katie, to my surprise. I thought she’d give me the side-eye all night after my display of dominance, which is really what it was, if I’m being honest with myself. I felt like a lioness in that moment, ready to tear her head off with one quick bite if she got any closer to Hunter.

And that, my dear self, needs to be examined by Sober Devyn tomorrow.

“She’s right,” Robbie admits, squinting as he reads through the first few instructions in his head. He waves a hand through the air. “The rules are the same. Let’s just play.”

He eyes the table for a moment and then lands his gaze on Katie. Robbie was always notorious for being an ass at games like this, doing whatever he could to make us all uncomfortable.

“Katie May Simmons, I dare you to kiss Hunter.”

Katie’s lips part on a gasp, and her eyes dart to the side, but not to Hunter.

Nope, to my absolute amusement, she looks at me.

Good girl. I wink at her. Hunter sees this and nudges me, but I don’t care. I snake my hand over his jeans and cup his junk beneath the table as he groans a kiss into my neck.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says, shifting in her seat. Robbie sighs but concedes after seeing her hesitation. Or maybe he senses the lioness too.

“Never mind,” he says. “How ‘bout Truth? Do you have a thing for Hunter?”

My eyes widen, and I twist my head to face her, but I’m just a split second too late to see her immediate reaction. And I have a feeling the one she’s got in place right now is most definitely a mask.

“No,” she says firmly.

Hmm.

I narrow my eyes at her, but Hunter’s voice in my mind is almost as close as his fingers on my hips.

Breathe, Ponygirl.

It eases my immediate jealousy. What is wrong with me? Why am I being like this?

“Your turn, Katie.” I keep my forced smile firmly in place. Despite my constant hiccups with bitchery, I realize I can’t stop being a bitch if I keep being a bitch. It’s difficult.

She nods, seeming to accept my neutrality. “Okay.” She fiddles with her tennis bracelet. “Devyn…” She hesitates, breathing more heavily now. But why?

I’ve seen this look on a dozen women before, and all of them were nervous.

But they were nervous about me. Pageant girls going up against the best around, or interns wanting a big shot at the station, knees knocking together as they’d walk to my dressing room and work up the courage just to tell me I’m their idol.

But why is Katie nervous? I’m certainly not her idol. Or maybe…just maybe, it’s not nerves. It’s courage. And just like that, she morphs into something different. Her chin tilts up, her back straightens, and she widens her smile.

---