Page 67 of Hymns of the Broken
“Better get used to the cotton candy and screaming,” he says, his grin sharp. “I know I can’t wait for more screaming.” He adds, wiggling his eyebrows.
I roll my eyes, but honestly—neither can I.
Micah and Silas fall in behind us, each already eyeing the Ferris wheel across the lot. I snap a few shots—candid, quick—of the guys in their element, Jasper’s hand always somewhere on me.
The guys drift off toward the stage, arguing about set lists and who’s supposed to be where, their voices fading as they disappear behind a wall of amps and crew members. Jasper gives my hand a final squeeze before slipping after Silas and Ash, leaving me blinking in the sun, camera bag bouncing against my hip.
I exhale, finally letting myself grin like an idiot. I’m not used to feeling this kind of…wanted.
That’s when my phone goes off, buzzing so hard, loud, insistent, dragging me back to earth.
I barelyget the phone to my ear before Macee’s voice explodes through the line. “Sawyer Jean, if you don’t give me one good story, I’m driving down there with a bullhorn and embarrassing you in front of all those tattooed degenerates.”
I laugh. “Chill, I’m alive! And maybe a little corrupted.”
“Oh, honey, you went on tour with a bunch of rockstars. You’d better be corrupt. So—has Jasper thrown you over his shoulder yet, or were the pictures all over the internet just to tease me?”
“He’s…not exactly shy, Mace.”
A scandalized gasp. “Sawyer! I knew it! Did you get laid? Did you get railed on a tour bus bunk? Don’t lie to me—I’ll know.”
“Macee!” I hiss, glancing around. “There are people—”
“Girl. I know your secrets. Now spill. Is he filthy? Does he sing to you, or ruin your life in other ways?”
“He’s…both, honestly. Possessive as hell. Like, ‘growls at anyone who even looks at me’ levels.”
“Oh my God, yes, give me the details. Are you in love yet or just dicked down and dizzy?”
I groan, face burning. “Why am I friends with you again?”
“Because no one else would send you DoorDash after your dad’s fourth wedding. Also, I know where the bodies are buried.”
We both burst out laughing.
She sobers first. “Okay, but for real—Blake’s not still being an asshole, right? Because I swear I’ll have his tires slashed and his mom’s plants killed.”
I roll my eyes, but my voice is softer. “He’s…around. Still texting. Still mad I haven’t replied. But I don’t care. Not now.”
“Damn right you don’t. Jasper sounds like an upgrade. And if you need me, you know I’ll show up in five hours with a shovel and bail money.”
I smile, warmth in my chest. “Love you, menace.”
“Love you, slut. Now go make poor decisions and call me after.”
***
I’m angling fora shot of the crowd when a group of guys breaks away from the beer tent, circling too close. One blocks my path, beer sloshing over his hand.
“Hey, little thing, got any pictures of yourself on that camera?”
Another one whistles, leering. “Bet she’s got better things to shoot. Why don’t you let us show you a good time?”
I take a breath, ready to fight my way out, but before I can answer, his hand grabs my wrist.
“Hey, sweetheart,” the guy slurs, his grip tightening when I try to pull back. “Where are you running off to? Stay and have a drink.” His buddies snicker behind him like hyenas circling roadkill.
“I’m not interested,” I snap, jerking my arm, but his fingers just clamp down harder.
