Chapter 5
“Hey!” Ben shouted behind me, but I was too deep in my pity party to register it at first. “Wait up!”
When I registered that it was him shouting at me, I also realized I was crying. More tears tracked down my cheeks and dripped off my face.
Oh god. Why? I finally had an amazing man interested in me and I was doing this? Mortified beyond belief, I ducked behind a large sign promoting some white-boy rapper.
I dug frantically through my purse for something to clean me up. Finding a crumpled pack of tissues, I pulled one out and swiped at my face, uncaring how it affected my makeup.
I should’ve known better. Amazing things like this don’t happen to girls like me. They happened to the Daphnes and Amelias of the world—the girls who already had everything.
“What happened back there?” Suddenly Ben was in front of me, bending down to look at my face. “Are you okay?”
A pained croak left me, and it only made me cry harder. “Seriously?” Pull it together, Emma! “I’m fine. You can go now.”
“Go?” Ben pulled back slightly and gave me a look like I was being crazy. “Why would I go? Where would I go? I want to be with you.”
“Seriously?” I snorted in disbelief. Then I closed my eyes in embarrassment at the sound I just made. Finally, I shook my head then gave him a look. “You don’t know me. Because if you did, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me.”
“Wait, what? You’re amazing, Emma. You’re gorgeous, sweet, caring, and funny. Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”
“You don’t know that. We’ve spent all of an hour together. You don’t know me at all.”
“I saw you in the diner, remember? I watched your stepmother be a witch to you, and then you turned and smiled at your customers like you weren’t dying inside.
I watched you give your concert tickets to that guy at the counter so he could take his wife to a show he couldn’t afford.
You put others above yourself, time and again. You’re fucking amazing.”
“Then why has my family always hated me?” I buried my face in my hands.
I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I needed my filter back. I hated being this vulnerable in front of anyone, let alone a sweet guy like Ben.
“I don’t know. But that’s on them, not you.
Sometimes people are just assholes.” Ben’s arms came around me.
And when I didn’t protest, he pulled me into his chest, resting his head on top of mine.
And he sighed. “My own father is more concerned with hooking up with my fans than managing my career. A lot of days, I feel like I’m his parent.
Sometimes family forgets they’re supposed to have your back. So that’s why you make your own.”
Make your own?
Then he went on. “You build your own little tribe. Surround yourself with people who care about you—the real-you, not the fake-you you have to show the world to keep yourself safe.”
After a second, I whispered, “Who’s your tribe?”
Ben groaned and shifted his weight then he pulled back and held me by my shoulders. “I’m still working on that part. But I’m hoping you’re interested in joining.”
For the umpteenth time that day, I wished he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. I’d give anything to see his eyes. But the sincere tone in his voice told me everything I needed to know. Ben wanted me. Was into me. Was hoping that this would be more than a weekend fling.
And that was probably when I fell all the way for this sweet, caring, gorgeous man standing in front of me.
And I had to let him know. Reaching out, I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back to me. Then I went up on my toes and kissed him.
I tried to put everything I was feeling in my kiss—all the hope, the joy, the urgent, driving need pulsing through my body.
And he kissed me back.
I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and just held on. In seconds, my nipples were pulsing points of need. I wanted this man like I’d never wanted someone before.
After an endless moment, Ben pulled back with a groan. “Christ, you’re potent, woman.”
I grinned and buried my face in his soft shirt.
He grunted. “So, I take it that we’re good? You’re okay with hanging with a loser like me?”
I pulled back to gently slap his arm. “Don’t talk about my guy like that. I happen to like him a lot.”
A huge, pleased grin stole across Ben’s face. “Really?”
I rolled my eyes. Like he didn’t know.
Ben leaned down and kissed me again, gently this time. Just when I was in danger of losing all sense of decency, he pulled back. “You make me forget everything. Like where we are. Like the fact that hundreds of people are walking around just on the other side of that si…shit.”
I looked up at Ben’s sudden curse and found him staring in disbelief at the sign next to us. My gaze followed, but it was still the same white-boy rapper with his droopy pants and thuggish swagger.
I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong when he shook his head, grabbed my hand, and pulled me away from our hidden sanctuary and back into the chaos of the festival.
We walked for a few moments before he stopped and turned to me with a laugh. “I don’t even know where I’m going.”
I wanted to ask about his mood, but he seemed to be over whatever had him annoyed a few minutes ago, so I shrugged. “How about the merch tent?”
“You want to go back? Aren’t you afraid we’ll run into the step-monsters?”
“They’re probably gone already. But screw them. They don’t run my life. Especially Daphne. She’s just an entitled princess who doesn’t know how to tie her own shoes. I’m not afraid of her.”
Ben’s eyebrows went up and after a beat he nodded. “Okay. To the merch tent.”
We backtracked and headed for the VIP line at the merch tent. For all my bravado, my heart pounded in my ears the whole way. But when we reached the line and I couldn’t see any sign of Daphne, her minions, or Amelia, I breathed a sigh of relief and sagged in relief.
I jumped when Ben’s arms came around me from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder and asked, “So, what are you getting?”
My eyes ran over the display in front of us.
There were festival shirts, hoodies, hats, canvas bags, scarves, koozies, and more.
Most were printed with designs for the festival, but a few of the headliners had merch here too.
At this tent. The event was dotted with individual merch tents for all the artists playing, but I was here for festival gear.
That I couldn’t afford.
Who paid fifty dollars for a shirt? Or ninety-five for a hoodie? I could maybe afford one of those twenty-dollar scarves. And I really doubted that the forty-dollar canvas tote would hold much.
I wanted to cry.
“Maybe one of those koozies?” I pointed. I could afford ten dollars. And it was more practical than a shirt. Gwen would love a koozie to keep her drink cold at barbecues.
Ben’s arms tightened around me for a second before he relaxed slightly. “Do you want to check out one of the artist’s merch tents?”
I sincerely doubted the prices would be any better anywhere else. I shook my head. I really wanted something from the festival though. Or at least something for Gwen—she’d done so much for me.
When we reached the front of the line, I pointed at the nearest koozie and reached into my purse.
“And one of those tie-dyed shirts and that hoodie.” Ben pointed over my shoulder. “Number twelve.”
“What size?” The merch girl asked in a bored tone.
“Medium,” Ben replied before pointing. “And that scarf.”
I would’ve pegged him as a large, but what did I know.
He shook his head as I tried to give him my money for the koozie.
“That’ll be one seventy-five.” The merch girl tapped at her tablet screen then held it out for Ben.
He tapped on the highest tip payout, then dug in his back pocket for his wallet. Still holding onto me with one arm, he rifled through his wallet in front of me, pulled out a credit card, and tapped it on the display screen. The tablet beeped.
“Do you want a receipt?” The merch girl asked with a big smile.
“Nah, we’re good.” Ben scooped up his pile of merch and we headed for the exit after Roscoe.
“For as much as you paid, they should really give you a bag or something.” I laughed as we stood behind a different sign.
Ben shrugged as he folded the shirt then handed it to me so he could fold the hoodie. “Maybe I should’ve grabbed a tote. Will any of it fit in your bag?”
“I think I can make room for most of it.” I shoved a few things around in my crossbody bag. “Everything except the hoodie will fit.”
“Good. Here.” He handed me the koozie, shirt, and scarf. “Actually, wait.” He pulled back the scarf, twisted and flipped it in his hands, then swept it over my head. “Here. It’ll help keep your hair out of your eyes.”
I stood still as Ben tied a complicated knot that left me with a scarf headband over the top of my hair with the knot tucked under my hair at the back.
“There.” He bent forward and kissed the top of my head. “You look gorgeous.”
My cheeks heated as I smiled up at him. “Thanks. Should we get a beer first or go see who’s playing on the beach stage?”
“Wherever you wanna go. This is your day, Emma.”
I couldn’t resist. I leaned into him, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and kissed him. It might’ve lasted a little bit longer than was polite for public.
I was a little dazed when I finally stepped back. After a second, the pheromone-induced haze lifted, and I grabbed his hand. “Beach stage, and then drinks. I have a water bottle if you’re feeling thirsty though.”
As I pulled him through the crowd around the merch tent, I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter, “Oh I’m definitely thirsty.”
But when I turned and gave him a questioning look, he shrugged innocently.