Page 63 of The County Fair Queen

"Phillip." Our teeth tapped. "God, Phillip." He rocked against me, pressing the evidence of his desire into my stomach. "Stay, baby. Just stay with me."

Rivers Rivera's dick was hard.

It was hard, and it was seeking friction.

I didn't know what the hell to do. As much as I wanted this, we were in the middle of a county fair. He was essentially dry-fucking me for the whole town to see.

"Rivers… Riv, there are people everywhere." I grabbed his hips, trying to slow him before we got arrested for indecent exposure. Unfortunately, Rivers was in his own little world, and the only way I could stop him was by pulling away.

Needy little sounds escaped his throat. Cracks, clicks, and whimpers that felt like pleas. Hooded eyes that were half-glazed, and a very visible bulge in the front of his slacks.

I fucking wanted him. Needed him.

Asking him to come home with me would be a terrible idea. It wasn't something I'd be proud of in the morning. Still, with him sitting in my lap like it was the only place he wanted to be, I couldn't deny myself. I could kick myself in the morning. Tonight, I wanted him. A fitting ending for the mayor and his popstar.

I opened my mouth, smiling. Before I could get a single word out, he pulled away from me, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

"You should go," he said. "Or I should?" He huffed out a warm breath directly into my face. It was cake and cinnamon, and traces of long-forgotten toothpaste. It was Rivers standing on a stage after my name had been called, terror heavy in his eyes. It was him cuddled up close on the Ferris wheel. His smile at the airport when he held up his hand-written sign. Yoga by Eulah. Foote's Feet. Minnie's Diner. It was home, and it was Riv. My Riv.

He stood up and whirled around, marching across the perfectly manicured courthouse lawn. He scooped up Beau, who was waiting in line with Aunt Lurlene, hoping to get a sugary treat. When he was gone—when all I had left were the remnants of our picnic and scattered relics of what might have been—I broke. The walls I'd spent years trying to build shattered like glass, glittering in the Texas sky. I knew there was no coming back from this. My brief career in this romantic-life reboot had been short, and it had been excruciating. Stick a fork in me, because I was done.

Around me, couples played carnival games like everything was still okay. Kids screamed and laughed on rides, as if the Texas stars—big and bright—hadn't all just gone out. Jordan and my father bumped shoulders as their quiet romance played out for the world to see.

A pair of arms wrapped around me from behind, and even though I could see Rivers walking toward the ring toss, I thought it might have been him. That he'd somehow torn himself in two, sending away the part of him that hated me for leaving, so all that was left was his love.

It was a nice thought, but it wasn't true.

"I'm sorry," Brenda/Carole said with a voice so genuine it took me by surprise.

"I'm fine." I patted her hand lightly before pushing it away. In less than twelve hours, Jordan and I would be on a flight heading back to London. Back where I belonged. Out of the past, and into my future. I stood up, dusting off stray blades of grass, and the last of my self-confidence, ready to leave Tallulah and Rivers Rivera far behind. For a moment, I felt relief, because the night was over. This disaster of a day was coming to an end, and I was going to be able to crawl into my childhood bed, cuddle up next to Jordan, and let him rock me to sleep.

Then it dawned on me.

We still had a coronation upon us.

Fuck.

Chapter Sixteen

THE COUNTY FAIR QUEEN

Rivers was right in front of me. He was so close I could have reached out and touched him. We were standing in line, both of us waiting to cast our ballot for the muscadine king and queen. He didn't notice me at first. One by one, the line had trickled down, and then it was his turn. When he was done, he turned around to head out. The second I saw his face, I realized just how hard this had hit him. His eyes, once bright and beautiful, were now bloodshot. His lips, usually plumped to perfection, were trembling in front of me.

I took a step forward, reaching for him. "Riv." He must have caught sight of an interesting red brick, because once his eyes dropped to the street, they didn't budge.

"I'm so sorry, Firecracker. I can't do this right now," he said, brushing past me. I didn't chase after him. If he needed to ignore me until I was gone in order to keep his composure, I would allow it. I'd welcome it. It felt like I owed him at least that much.

There were six names listed on the ballots. Three women and three men. The only familiar name on the list was Danvers, and I sure as shit wasn't voting for him. So, I went with my heart. For the muscadine king, I wrote my king's name down. When it came to the queen, I didn't even have to think twice.

Phillip Firecracker,the ballot said as I folded it in half, pressing a kiss to the paper.

King and Queen, the way we were supposed to be.

On stage, a band was playing an old country and western song as I walked past. I caught sight of Rivers sitting in the gazebo on the courthouse lawn. He was alone, staring down at his shoes. The music swallowed me like quicksand, making each step more difficult than the last. He didn't want to see me. I knew he didn't. Still, I couldn't stop myself. It was like my body was acting on instinct. Like every step toward him was taken by someone else.

He saw me, unsurprised by my presence, like my finding him was inevitable. We said nothing, just sat side by side, our knees touching. My hand was on my thigh, just like his. I didn't acknowledge how good it felt when his pinky made contact with mine. Not when he looped them together, either. Not even when he leaned over, laid his head on my shoulder, and sighed.

We stayed that way for another three songs, each one sadder than the last. I didn't know who picked out the setlist, but it seemed like they'd been hellbent on emotional devastation. When the band finally finished their Dolly Parton cover, Rivers removed his pinky from mine and walked away without saying a word.

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