Page 50 of Kyle

“Three. They kick the ball around with basically blowup bumpers around the field. It’s really just watching a bunch of toddlers run back and forth. But my girl is going to kick ass.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from your little girl.”

“Damn right. Good luck, kid. Make some money.”

“Thanks, Green.”

He climbs in the SUV

As he pulls away, I walk through the RV, taking in the two sofas. This is such a bad idea. We’ll practically be sleeping in the same bed. I shake the thoughts from my head. Tribe is the opportunity of a lifetime. I need to stay focused on that. This could be my big break, and there’s no room for me to fuck it all up by letting my thoughts of Sutton get in the way. I cannot let myself fall for this girl.

Rafe drops Sutton off about an hour later as I’m getting the food trailer hitched to the RV.

The breath whooshes out of me as I rise.

She’s in a pair of cutoffs that show her slender, tanned legs that go on and on for miles. She has a loose-fitting white shirt with a generous plunging neckline and some kind of loose, pale green cover up.

I quickly avert my eyes when Rafe approaches, a duffel slung over his arm.

He carries her bag into the camper.

I tense, waiting for the hell-raising I’m sure will come if he notices the couch-bed layout. But when he steps out, he seems unfazed.

“Hey, man. Good luck.” He pats my back, then turns to Sutton and pecks her on the cheek. “Have a fun time, but not too fun.” Then gives a small wave to us both, climbs into his truck, and drives away.

I can’t help but think if my girl was going off for several days, I’d have given her a hell of a lot more than a peck on the cheek. But then again, maybe they said their real goodbyes this morning. It’s not my business, so I shake the image from my mind and push back the jealousy surging through me.

Clearing my throat, I glance over at Sutton. “Ready?”

“Yes, let's make you a famous chef.” She gives me a brilliant smile and climbs into the passenger side.

I huff a laugh, realizing just how excited I am to spend time with her. “How about we just sell some food?”

“Sure thing. How long is this trip, anyway?”

“Including stops, it should take us about five hours to get to the Mojave Desert. Thankfully, Tribe is held on the California side.” I drop the gearshift into drive and roll onto the street.

“Well, good thing I brought travel snacks.” Sutton lifts a large purse onto her lap and begins taking out Cheez-its, M&Ms, little packages of donuts, a can of Pringles, and a bag of miniature cookies.

“Jesus, did you rob a junk food store?”

“Ha ha. Half the fun of traveling is eating all the cheat food. It's basic knowledge calories don’t count on a road trip.”

Now she has me belly-laughing. “Okay, pass me some Cheez-its, then.”

She hands them over, and I tear into them.

“I pulled up a list of the lineup and made a playlist. That way, we can decide if we want to sneak off to watch anyone after we shut down each night. Oh, and one of my favorite bands is going to be there, so I’m kind of stoked.”

I glance over, her excitement contagious. She really is a ray of sunshine. “Who’s your favorite band?”

“Whiskey Mirage.”

“No kidding? I love those guys.”

“Awesome! We can go see them together.” She crunches on a Pringle as she hooks her phone to the RV’s Bluetooth.

Soon music blasts through the speakers.

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