Page 78 of What About Us
“You look beautiful.”
When I pull back, she opens her eyes and the tip of her tongue pokes out as she runs it along her bottom lip, before pulling it between her teeth.
She breaks eye contact, her smile coy, and bumps my body with hers. “You ready to go? We’re gonna be late,” she says, her shy gaze slipping back to mine.
I step away from her, knowing if I don’t, we won’t be making our concert. I look down at my boots, jeans, and faded Aerosmith T-shirt, ignoring the rising hard-on behind my zipper. I nod. No one’s going to be looking at me anyway; not when I’m with this smoke show standing in front of me.
Grabbing my keys and my phone, we head out to the garage and hop into the truck.
We roll into Bozeman just before the show starts and Finn is practically buzzing with excitement when we make it to the fairgrounds, where the band is playing tonight.
I navigate the crowded parking lot and find a spot to pull in. We’ll check in at the hotel after the show, so we aren’t late. I climb out and Finn does the same, her feet kicking up dust as she swivels in the seat and drops out onto the hard-packed dirt lot.
She scoops up her straw cowboy hat that she’s had for years, situates it on her head, and turns to me. “I hope they have those boozy slushies like they did last time,” she says, grabbing my arm and wrapping hers through it. There’s a giant smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye.
“I’m sure they will,” I say with a smile at her. We walk together toward the entrance of the fairgrounds, and I pull up the ticketing app on my phone.
Once we’re inside, Finn grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd of people, working her way closer to the stage. It’s all general admission, so people are standing or sitting on blankets or lawn chairs. It’s crowded, but this petite, five-foot-five knockout is somehow able to move us through the throng of people with zero effort, like she’s Moses parting the Red Sea. And if she’s Moses, I’m David, ogling Bathsheba’s ass as I trail along behind her. Her shorts are so short, I can almost make out the bottom of the round globes of both her ass cheeks.
Luckily, the crowd is thick enough for these people to be oblivious to the almost painful tent pitched in my pants, and no one knows how I’m currently thinking about burying my face between them. Goddamn, that’sa fantastic thought. I don’t care how late this night is, we’re discussing this friends with benefits shit tonight. There’s zero chance of me keeping my hands off her after the day we’ve had.
When we reach a spot she deems worthy, she swings around to face me and presses up on her toes, wrapping an arm around my neck. I reach for her waist with one hand and lean down so I can hear her above the sound system.
“You look really fucking hot, Huddy,” she says close my ear. She’s not whispering, and even though we don’t know any of these people, it feels so fucking good to hear her say something like that out where anyone can hear. Her other hand slides into my back pocket and she squeezes my ass, a silent claim on me that has that same eruption of sparks shooting around my stomach.
“Thanks,” I say against her ear, my laugh coming out a little awkward. Even though she’s told me I’m handsome hundreds of times over the last almost twenty years, she’s never told me I’m hot.
She presses her lips to my neck, and I swear to Christ my knees almost buckle.
“Do you want a drink?” I call over the music, tipping my chin in the direction of the slushy stand she was hoping to see when we came in.
She nods with a smile. “Long Island iced tea!”
Two hours and one giant Long Island iced tea slushy later, we make our way across the street to my truck. It’s after eleven, and I can still feel the buzz from the speakers in my ears. Finn is adorably tipsy, clinging to my waist as we walk and shivering a little with every step.
“You should have brought a jacket,” I say, rubbing my hand up and down her arm.
“And ruin my entire look?” she says skeptically. “Not a chance.”
I chuckle. “Fashion over comfort?”
“Every single time.”
She lifts my arm from her shoulders and spins underneath it, then loses her balance and slams into my side. She’s so fucking tiny that it doesn’t really faze me, but I drape my arm around her shoulders, pulling her back against me. I press a kiss to her temple. God, she feels incredible against me. It’s like a drug in and of itself, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think I was the tipsy one. I only had a couple sips of her drink, knowing I’d have to drive us the couple of miles to the hotel.
Her hip bumps mine while we navigate the packed parking lot to find the truck, and soon, she’s giggling uncontrollably. She grips my shirt to keep from swaying and runs her hand over my abs. Goosebumps break out over my skin when she drags her nails across them.
Another chuckle erupts from me when she tries to dip her hand under the waistband of my jeans. I catch her fingers and hold them in the other hand. “Behave.”
She giggles and whispers, “You behave.”
When we make it to the hotel, I give the woman my card and she hands us two plastic keycards. After directing us to the room, we head toward the elevator. It’s a short ride to the third floor and our room is two doors down on the right.
I let us in, and Finn lets out a whoop before taking off at a run, flopping into the center of the bed farthest from the door. She rolls onto her back and throws up a peace sign, clearly tipsy. “Thank you, Montana! Goodnight!”
Her hand drops to the mattress with a sigh.
“I’m hungry,” she says.
