Page 2 of Rough
The moment he has it shoved back on his head, he walks back over to me and snarls down at me. Some may find him intimidating, but I don’t. Looking up at him with innocent eyes, I bat them, swaying my body from side to side. “Sorry, Billy… Swear, I didn’t mean to.”
Pointing his finger in my face, he fights back what I’m sure could be described as a growl, if the choked noises he’s making are any indication. “Not… the ‘Son.”
Nodding solemnly, I put my hands up and duck my head. “Never again. Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Raucous laughter erupts behind me, and I spin to see a handful of people sauntering over to us with arms slung over shoulders, and girls tucked under arms. I’ve never been friends with most of these people, but the guys are. They’ve never made me feel left out, and I’ve always appreciated that about them. Now though, I consider that maybe I’ve always been a bit of a tag-a-long because no one greets me; it’s only ever the guys.
Wilder gets smacked on the shoulder by Ryan Hansley; his girlfriend, Tara Schneider, hanging on him like she can’t walk without the support. “Fox, you got any beers over here? Patsy’s cooler is already empty.”
Damn, how long have they all been out here? It’s barely sundown.
“Got some over there,” he says, pointing toward his Chevy, parked next to Remy’s. Unsurprisingly,alsoa damn Chevy. I’ll live and die in my Ford, and no one will ever change my mind. “I’ll go grab it. Come with me, Bets?”
Rolling my eyes, I know I’m in for a lecture when Wilder grabs my wrist and drags me across the crushed grass over to his truck. “Would you let go, Wild? I’m gonna trip if you don’t slow down.”
Releasing my hand, he looks me over to make sure I’m steady, before continuing to lead us to grab the cases he’s got stacked in the bed. “How’d you hear about the party?”
Coming to a standstill, I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Should I not have? You boys are really makin’ me feel unloved right now, gettin’ all pissy that I’m here.”
“It’s not like that,” he says, dropping the tailgate, never looking right at me. He flips his ball cap backwards and hops in the back to grab a couple of cases. I catch the ripple of his biceps, wrapped in a tight black T-shirt stretching across them, and swallow a bit of the drool that pools in my mouth.Damn, these boys get finer every time I see them.
Wilder Foxburg has got to be one of the prettiest boys I’ve ever laid eyes on. His eyes are a deep amber, fitting for his Fox nickname even though I detest it, circled with the thickest black lashes that should be illegal on a man.
He’s the tallest of the three of them, Remy coming in second with Clyde only half an inch shorter than him. Remy’s got the biggest muscles, but Wilder’s are the most defined, and I just want to touch them. Walk my fingers right down…
“You listenin’, Bets? You shouldn’t be here tonight. There’s a lot of them drinkin’, and it’ll probably get pretty rowdy.” Scowling up at him, I ignore his concerned look and take the case of beer from his hands. Wrinkling my nose, I make a gagging sound when I see that it’s Busch.
“Why the hell you buyin’ this shit?” I ask him, holding it away from me like it’s poison.
“I buy it cheap for everyone else so we can keep the good stuff for us. Come on, Bets. Don’t ignore me. What are you doin’ here?” Pushing a couple more cases to the end, he jumps down and grips the handle, nodding for me to shut the gate.
Slamming it closed, I pick up the second case I set down and wait to follow him back to the group. He doesn’t move, waiting for my answer, and I sigh in irritation.
“I heard you all were havin’ a fire and wanted to come and see you. None of you have been comin’ around the farm lately, and I’ve been bored.” Playing off my hurt, because damn right it freaking hurts that they’ve seemingly ditched me, I playfully add, “Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve been to a bonfire with my favorite people.”
Sighing, he doesn’t smile back at me, which has mine falling from my face. “What’s goin’ on, Fox?”
He groans before he looks up at the sky. I follow his gaze and notice a few of the first of the night are poking through the quickening darkness. “I know I’m in trouble when you call me Fox.”
Tilting the corner of my lip up, I bump him with my shoulder. “Well, don’t get in trouble, and I won’t use it.”
“What’s takin’ so long?” Remy asks, coming up to us and grabs both of the cases from my hands.
Remy Landry is the epitome of a cowboy. He’s what women dream of when they read those Wild West romances late at night. Dark hair, tan skin, muscles everywhere, and an ass to die for. Also, I’m pretty sure he started shaving before his voice even dropped. He wouldn’t confirm it when I asked, but I’ll stand by it. His whole being is just sensually dark. Looks and personality intertwined with night, where I’d love to spend mine if ever given the opportunity.
He’s my ‘Rustic’; made from the soil he walks on every day, never to belong in a city. He’ll only ever be owned by the country.
I’m a hussy for my friends, but can you blame a girl? Who has friendsthissexy without dreaming of what could happen by a fire on a warm summer night? No one, including me.
I stretch my fingers out, appreciating that I don’t have to carry them. I’m a strong girl but holding two of them was becoming awkward to keep them from bumping into my legs. “Thanks.Wilderwas about to tell me why you all are avoidin’ me.”
“We weren’t avoidin’ you… just been busy. Plus, we had plans to come talk to you tomorrow mornin’ before we left,” he explains, completely unaware that he just drop-kicked me like a naughty puppy.
I suck in a breath, then start coughing like a maniac, pounding on my chest to clear the tickle from the inhaled saliva. “Leave?Where the hell are you all goin’?”
Remy’s looking at me like I’m an idiot while Wilder sets down the beer he’s been holding, sighing as he settles in for a fight.
I cross my arms over my chest and snap at them. I’mangryand they need to know it. “Supersorry for inconveniencin’ you all, but for the love of God, what the hell are you talkin’ about? Leavin’ to gowhere?”
