Page 7 of Forgot to Tell You Something

I remind my crushed hopes that this is not unexpected. Stefani is gorgeous. Owen is gorgeous. Besides, I did mention that she’s my friend. Like a jealous voyeur, I study their interactions as Owen accepts a couple of beer bottles and points to the balcony. Stefani nods, flashing him a brilliant smile.

Any glitter from my flirtation with Owen drifts to the ground. Time to slip back into my tried-and-true role—the cool chick, the buddy, the friend.

With a huffed sigh, I flop back against the sofa cushion. For once, I’d like to be the beauty queen, let someone else play my role for the evening.

“Here you go, Darlin.” A beer bottle wags under my nose, and I accept the offering with a smile.

“Thanks. I appreciate it, but you didn’t have to get me a beer.”

“I owed you one.”

I nod, picking at the label on the bottle. “I see you met Stefani.”

“You saw that? Wow, you do have eyes everywhere.”

“I wasn’t snooping. I was just—”

“Checking up on her. I get it. I introduced myself and let her know where we were.”

“So she could join us?”

“No, so she wouldn’t worry.” Owen shifts on the cushion, pivoting to face me. “How much do you really like Hedgecore?”

“Is that a trick question? I like them more than Santa and the Easter Bunny combined.”

“What about the Tooth Fairy?”

“Nah, she and I aren’t on speaking terms.”

“What would you say if I told you that I got you a ticket for the concert tomorrow?”

My eyes widen as my fingers clutch my beer. He’s joking. He must be joking. “I would say you’re full of crap. It’s sold out.”

“I got you a ticket, Tally, but there is one catch.”

I groan, taking a swig of the cold brew. “I knew it! I have to ride in your backpack, don’t I?”

There’s that smile again. Each time, it’s more vivid than the last. “How did you guess? I don’t doubt that you would.”

My grin matches his. “I totally would.”

His fingers reach out, tracing along my knee in an unexpected tingle fest. “The catch is that you have to go with me.”

I’m hearing things. Yep, it finally happened—that unfortunate LSD incident when I was a teenager has caught up to me. “You want to go to Hedgecore with me?”

Instead of moving away, he slides his hand under my thigh, his fingers tightening around my leg. “Very much so. What do you say?”

I’m an affectionate person, but I’m also highly selective with whom gets that attention. Owen has earned it in spades, whether or not he wants it.

Throwing my hands around his neck, I let out a squeal of excitement. “Oh my God, how fabulous!”

If I thought it was tricky sitting next to the man, it’s damn near impossible to calm my hormones when our bodies press together. Add in his arms wrapping around my frame, and the situation turns downright electric.

“I like you excited,” he murmurs, that gorgeous mouth dangerously close to my own.

My gaze travels down his face. Bad idea. His lips are full and soft and look like they could do all manner of naughty things to my body.

The clang of guitars sounds from the stage, ending our moment. I push myself off Owen and reclaim my perch on the back of the couch, trying not to read into the fact that instead of releasing me, his fingers tightened when I pulled away.

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