Page 26 of Unrequited (Woodlands 4)

"Yeah, but I know what you look and smell like in the morning."

"A bouquet of awesome, you mean? I admit that letting that knowledge into the public will endanger me more, so let's keep that a secret between us."

"How about the knowledge that you enjoyed eating your nose crud? Is that going to drive the women into a frenzy?"

"There's a fetish for everything, man. Don't be judgmental."

I ate the rest of my sandwich and then tossed the paper and napkins in the trash. The office trailer needed cleaning. It had been a mess when I’d brought Winter here, and it was still a mess. I wondered if my dad had hired someone to clean. The weight of all I had to do made it hard to stay upright, so for the time being I thought I'd lay my head on the table.

"You okay?" Adam sounded concerned.

"Yep." Not really, but I wasn't interested in talking this out with anyone, not even Adam, who was my oldest friend.

•••

The situation rode me hard all day, and by the time the concert rolled around, I was in a foul mood.

"You look tense," Winter observed as we settled onto the blanket I'd brought.

"I need a beer," I muttered and then grimaced. Winter not only didn't drink, but she had an understandable aversion to people close to her drinking.

"Oh, well, you should get one. I don't mind." She turned from me and faced forward, her face completely blank of emotion. Dammit. This wasn't how I wanted the date to go. Looking around, I saw Bo and AnnMarie staring at me. Actually she was wincing. My fuck-up with Winter was evident to everyone. She'd moved as far away from me as possible. Soon her ass would be off the blanket and on the grass. Hell, if I didn't get my act together, she'd find a different pa

rty altogether.

Sucking in a breath, I forced myself to exhale some of my anger. "I'm sorry I'm being shitty company. If I promise to stop being an asshole, will you sit next to me?" I patted the blanket.

"You could tell me what's wrong," she offered without moving. Since she wasn't coming to me, I was going to her—even if it meant chasing her all around the park.

"How about this? We try to enjoy the concert, and at the end of the night, if you still want to know, I'll explain everything." The last thing I wanted was to dredge up the whole mess about work, my uncle, my mom, and my screwed up home life. It just wasn't good date conversation. It wasn't good post-date conversation either, but I hoped she'd forget about it by then. I reached across the blanket and rubbed two fingers over her very sensitive inner wrist. Her mouth formed an unintentionally erotic circle as the touch did just what I hoped—distracted her. My hand curled around her wrist, and I tugged her gently toward me.

"Does the music get any better?" she asked. I took her change of subject as tacit agreement to my request.

Just us. No other people.

"Haven't you come to the Concert in the Park series before?" I asked, surprised.

"Nope. I've always meant to come but was busy."

Translation: she'd been cleaning up her sister's messes.

Wrapping my arms around her, I gently maneuvered her so she was surrounded by my knees and resting against my chest. She hesitated at first but then relaxed. And I relaxed with her.

"The good bands come later." The softness of her body actually helped ease my tension more than anything. I should have tried this before. When I’d picked her up at Atra, I should have pulled her into my arms and just held her for like ten minutes until the stress of the multi-million dollar construction project drained away. "The shitty bands play first, which is part of the payment for getting a decent spot on the grass. The better bands play later. Or at least we all think they're better, but it could be we're too high or drunk to notice their shittiness."

"What about the sober people?" She laughed, and I relaxed further. She was like a walking Zoloft. I needed her around me in regular doses. Take four hours of Winter Donovan before you go to bed and call me in the morning should be my prescription.

"They leave after the first couple of hours, having decided that getting bit by mosquitos and having drunk people spill beer on them isn't half as fun as it sounded when their friends invited them out earlier in the day."

The music improved, and so did the company. AnnMarie and Winter discovered they had a few mutual acquaintances through Central College, where AnnMarie attended and Winter had planned on going until she changed her mind suddenly and went to the local community college. After the third band exited the stage, Adam dropped onto the edge of the blanket.

"The lead singer in this next band is pretty tight," he said with an excited gleam in his eye. "His band is shit, though. The drummer plays like he's got only one stick that works, and the guitarist knows only three chords." He rubbed his hands together.

"Why is that a good thing?" Winter asked from the cocoon of my arms.

"Because I want him for myself."

"Adam's had different bands his whole life," I explained at Winter's raised eyebrows. "But members of it keep drifting away. He's been on the lookout for the perfect crew for the last year."

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