Page 41 of Music City Diaries

“I’m ready.” I hadn’t told Candi all of my history, but she’d picked up things from observation.

“I’m happy for you, Darce. Bout time you got laid.”

“Hey! I was making sure I was ready, and now, I’m ready.”

“As your good friend, then I must help you find the perfect guy to bone.”

“Bone? What, are you eight?” We got out of the car, laughing as we began the trek toward the music. Linking arms together, we followed the others, looking around at everyone.

“Oh, what about that one?” she said, pointing at a blond guy.

“Eh, too skinny.”

“Okay, what about that one?”

I shook my head immediately. “No, too frat boy.”

“Ugh. Too picky. What’s your type then?”

“Hmm, well, I do have a thing for guys on motorcycles. Tattoos. Muscles.”

“Ooooh, Darcie likes the bad boys.”

“I do not!” I slapped her, laughing. Though, maybe I did.

“If he’s just to mess around with, though, I guess he just needs to not smell, have his teeth, and be bigger than me. I don’t want a guy who I’ll feel like will break if he tries to pick me up.”

“You want a man that can throw you around, huh?”

Giggling, I shrugged. I hadn’t meant to describe Maddox, but she had a point. I kind of did like that.

We showed our tickets on our phones, and they gave us wrist bracelets, dictating what sections we could get into. Candi’s connection had gotten us VIP tickets, giving us special admittance. Most of the groups playing I wasn’t familiar with, but live music was always fun, and I was excited to hear all that was on offer.

Together, we headed back to the area her friend was in. Candi pointed out guys along the way she thought I might want to bone. Every time she said bone, I’d bust out laughing, shaking my head, and the guy would look at me like I was deranged. Some wing-woman she was.

Showing our bracelets to a bouncer, we were let back into a smaller section. “Come on, I want you to meet some people.”

A group of guys were gathered around some couches set up under the tent. Huge industrial fans blew, but it wasn’t necessarily any cooler. The humid air just moved more. As we approached, a guy caught my eye, and I stopped, looking him over. Candi nudged me, waggling her eyebrows.

“Oh, you got the look. Which one is he?”

“What are you talking about?” I said, trying to play dumb.

“Don’t you do that with me! Tell me, or I’ll shout to the whole tent you’re open for business.”

Gasping, I pinched her arm. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She crossed her arms. “Try me.” Raising an eyebrow, she waited me out. Sighing, I pulled her close, giving in.

“Fine, he’s the one with the dark hair, sleeve of tattoos, and has the Waylon Jennings shirt on,” I mumbled, a blush rising to my cheeks.

“See, you do like a bad boy.” She giggled, getting delighted in my embarrassment.

“Why are we friends?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Because I’m fabulous,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “And I know who that is. So, I can give you an introduction. Now, who’s salty?”

Dropping my arms, I smiled, giving her a hug. “Okay, fine. You win. So, what do you know?” I asked, finding myself with a crush.

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