3. TED
3
TED
A dele .
Her name lingered in the air as though it wasn’t ready to leave my lips.
She stood there under a darkening sky that promised a storm. She was radiant. Her long brown hair cascaded in soft waves that caught the breeze, brushing her shoulders like whispers. Those wide, expressive eyes studied the stage in continued confusion despite my trying to explain who Jett was. I didn’t mind, though.
Well, Adele, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?
There was something subtle but powerful about her. She was wrapped in a natural beauty that didn’t rely on fur jackets or glittering sequins like so many girls here. She wore simplicity like a ballgown.
I suppose compared to her blue-haired friend, some would consider her plain.
But she’s not.
“I know that song.” Adele’s voice was small but clear as it battled the rising noise of the crowd. She smiled, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “I just don’t know any of these they’re singing now.” Her voice was soft, lyrical even, with a warm melody. The faint pink blush creeping up her neck was unmistakable, adding to her allure.
I scanned the people bustling around us. Some were tipsy and slurred their words; others danced, spinning recklessly in the mud. But here, amidst the chaos, I was drawn to her. We stood in our own world, insulated from the music and strangers.
“Who have you come to see?” I forced the words out, trying to distract myself from her. She was unlike anyone I’d ever seen before.
Her lips curled into a grin, and it drew me in. “Oasis, mainly,” she said as if she were confessing a secret passion. “But I want to check out the new bands, too. See what’s up and coming. What about you?” she asked casually. Her body shifted closer, drawn in by the shrinking space crowded with people. “Sorry, it’s getting crowded.” Adele motioned around us.
Never apologise for moving closer to me.
I drained my beer, grateful for something to occupy my hands. “I’ll be honest…” I leaned in slightly, closing the distance without really thinking about it. Her skin smelled faintly of vanilla, but there was a hint of something else—something more decadent, more intoxicating, like the warm scent of chocolate. “My mates paid for my ticket,” I added with a grin. “So, here I am.”
Adele blinked, her eyes searching mine. “But you like music, right?”
“ Yeah ,” I said, swallowing hard as I drew my gaze over her soft lips again. “I like music. But I’m here for the atmosphere—that electric feeling in the air. I’ve never been to a festival before.”
“Me neither!” Adele’s face broke into a bright smile, a genuine one that radiated her happiness as though we’d already found some unique, private connection.
The surrounding crowd pulsed with loud chatter, roaring laughter, and faint echoes of guitar strings. Behind us, large speakers pumped out sounds strong enough that the ground vibrated beneath my feet. But everything outside this small circle of space felt irrelevant. All that mattered was the way her laughter cut through the noise, ringing like music itself.
“I guess you aren’t from around here,” I remarked, needing to know more about her, needing another excuse to drag this conversation out. I leaned closer.
Adele shrugged, helpless but amused, cupping her ear. “Sorry, what was that?” she asked.
I moved in, lowering my voice until it felt intimate and secretive. “I said, where are you from?”
She shivered. There was that pull between us again—that almost magnetic tension that made everything around us buzz louder as if the universe was conspiring to shove us closer.
“I’m from further north,” she murmured, her voice soft but laced with vulnerability. “A little town called Insley.” Her breath tickled the side of my neck as she said it, and it took every shred of willpower I had not to pull her even closer.
I didn’t know where Insley was, nor did I care. The more she spoke, the more I realised how irrelevant the world felt outside of this moment.
“Do you want a drink?” I jutted my thumb toward the line of festival-goers lining up for the bar, but she hadn’t answered before I tapped Lloyd on the shoulder, lacing my hand with Adele’s.
Fuck, this feels right.
“We’re going to the bar,” I called, stepping back reluctantly into the loud crowd.
Lloyd was grinning like an idiot, clearly pleased to have a girl’s attention for the night. I realised it was Adele’s friend—I saw her electric blue hair flicking about, catching strobe lights in flashes.
Onward to the bar, I confronted a daunting wall of moving bodies all pressing toward the same goal—beer. I shoved through, dragging Adele along with me.
She slipped and faltered slightly in the mud as we fought forward, frustration knitting her brow. “I hate being small,” she huffed, her voice barely cutting through the noise.
“You? Nah. I think it’s cute .” The word escaped me, but it was the truth. She was fucking cute. And sexy.
“Until everyone is crushing me,” she shot back playfully.
“I’ll protect you,” I teased, injecting lightness into the banter. “My little sister is small like you—always asking me to get something out of her reach.”
“How old is she?” Adele asked.
“Fifteen. And trust me—she’s stopped growing. Not so different from you, height-wise.”
“Good thing she has a tall , strapping brother,” Adele mocked, exaggerating the words that made me chuckle. “How tall are you?” Her question was so matter-of-fact that I couldn’t help but laugh again.
I smirked, leaning in closer as I towered over her, feeling her body press against mine despite the crowd. “ Six foot. At least two feet taller than you, princess.”
Adele narrowed her eyes, folding her arms in that irresistibly cute way, and for a moment, she pouted, her full lips drawing my gaze downward. “I’m not four feet!” she protested.
“You’re fucking gorgeous ,” I whispered, the words tumbling from my lips without warning. And the sense of relief was instant—freeing—like the air between us had needed those words spoken aloud.
Adele’s cheeks flushed, a brilliant shade of pink beneath the festival lights, and she laughed softly, tightening the grip on my hand. The warmth of her touch ignited something in my chest. She was so close that I could almost feel her heartbeat matching the frantic rhythm of mine.
“Thanks.” Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—something unguarded now. Her eyes bore into mine. “You’re pretty hot, too,” she quipped, keeping her arms crossed even as the tension rose between us. “I’m sure my mate has been checking you out this entire time. You’re her type.”
“Oh?” I forced a chuckle as the words swirled around us like confessions, hidden beneath the sound of the crowd. “Am I your type, Adele?” The question slipped from my mouth before I could stop it.
Adele didn’t flinch. She locked eyes with me—a brief flicker of challenge lighting them up. “Yes.”
Just like that.
Without hesitation.
I grinned, safe in the knowledge that this goddess just told me she liked me.
Yes!
“So, no boyfriend?” I checked, bracing myself for the caveat.
Adele’s eyes widened. “No. What about you? Any gorgeous women on the go?”
I snorted, shuffling forward with the line as it moved. “Not anymore,” I answered. “I was with someone, but we split up.”
Adele made a face, putting her hand back on my arm. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” I said, gazing into her eyes. “Or I wouldn’t be standing here with you.”
The air between us crackled with electricity, and I fought the urge to kiss her.
She barely knew me.
“I’m glad,” Adele murmured, her hand moving back from my arm.
“Why?” I couldn’t help but grin at her, our eyes meeting as we both laughed, knowing there was something special between us. It was in the air; it was all over our faces. I yearned to kiss her, but I didn’t want to overstep.
“Oh, come on,” Adele said, pointing at me. “Like you don’t know! You’re gorgeous.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Maybe,” Adele replied, shrugging her shoulders.
“You know, I’ve had a shit day so far. Until I met you.”
Adele’s eyes sparkled as she smiled, revealing Hollywood white teeth. “Aren’t you the lucky one?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Adele laughed, giving me a puzzled expression.
“Because I want to kiss you right now, but I’m not drunk enough or brave enough,” I confessed.
“Oh!” Adele flushed. “Me neither. Shall we get drunk then?”
I beamed at her, loving her honesty. “Yeah, fuck it.”