Chapter 7
Wesley
I’m laying on the horn in front of Chase’s house. He’s taking forever, and if I have to sit one more second in this truck alone with Brantley and Addison in the backseat, I’m gonna drive into a pole. I’d let Addison out first, obviously.
Everything’s apparently fine between her and Brantley now.
She was crying to me less than a week ago about it, but whatever.
I just…I really don’t like him. He’s such a player—cocky, stubborn, arrogant, selfish…
I could go on. I guess I don’t prefer to see her snuggled up against anyone, but it makes it even worse when I hear about how things are behind the scenes.
“I was taking a leak. Jeez,” Chase says as he slides in the passenger seat.
“Well, you’re late,” I say and start out the driveway.
Chase glances back at Addison and Brantley. “Hey, lovebirds.”
Addison giggles and Brantley says hi.
I’m glad Chase is going. One of Brantley’s friends was supposed to go instead but he had some family thing come up at the last minute.
As I near the end of the driveway, I catch a quick glimpse of Brantley scooting closer to Addison in the rearview. He doesn’t have his seat belt on, giving him no restriction.
I may or may not press on the brakes a little harder than necessary when I reach the end of the driveway. Brantley’s body bumps into the back of my seat, Chase catches himself on the dash, and Addison, thankfully, stays put thanks to her seat belt.
A collective groan rises from all three of them as I turn left onto the road.
“Whoops. Sorry,” I bite.
“What was that for?” Addie asks, loosening her seat belt from across her chest and stomach.
“Thought I saw a deer,” I lie. “Might wanna buckle up, Brantley,” I add.
Even though my eyes are on the road, I still see Chase staring at me. He’s stifling a quiet laugh and shaking his head. He knew my intention. He knows I like Addison, but we don’t talk about it. Ever. It’s one of those unsaid things between us that he knows not to bring it up.
* * *
It was a long drive, especially when I had to witness Brantley whispering God knows what in Addison’s ear the entire way. Then she’d laugh and they’d kiss or something disgusting. Not that she’s disgusting, but I’d rather smear cow crap all over my face than watch them kiss.
I don’t know what Addison sees in him, honestly. I guess he’s not ugly, and he has the bull rider thing going for him, but aside from that, he’s really not that great.
At least she seems good, anxiety-wise. She’s been talkative, has color in her face, only asked me to turn up the AC once.
It’s a good feeling, knowing I seem to be enough of a comfort to help her get here tonight.
Even if it’s overlooked and more for her to prove to Brantley that she can be “normal” sometimes. I’ll take the win.
The line to get in was about a mile long but we’re finally on the main floor, about fifty feet in front of the stage. There are no seats where we’re at; it’s standing room only.
Once the concert finally gets started, the lights go out and music fills the room. I don’t know the last time I was at a concert. I forgot how loud they were.
When Justin Moore comes out, the crowd gets louder, and everyone with actual seats is now on their feet. He jumps right into “Small Town USA” with a giant American flag waving on the screen behind him. He sounds great but he’s way shorter than I expected.
As he fades into the next song, I hear Brantley going back and forth with Addison. I turn to see what’s going on. He’s holding a clear plastic cup full of beer for Addison to take.
“C’mon, it’s one drink,” he insists.
“I’m not even twenty-one.” She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh…it’s her nervous laugh.
I feel my body stiffen, my shoulders straightening out as wide as they’ll go and my chest puffing out slightly. It doesn’t take an idiot to see Addison’s discomfort. She doesn’t drink, doesn’t even like beer, and like she said, she’s not even twenty-one.
“Nobody knows that here. Don’t be a party pooper. You can’t go to a Justin Moore concert and not drink something,” Brantley says, which is enough to have me taking a few steps over, standing in front of him.
“Hey, she said no.” My voice is hard.
Addison sidesteps away, fixing her hair and adjusting her shirt. She does that when she’s nervous—fidgets. If he actually cared enough, like I do, he’d know that. But he doesn’t know her like I do, and he never will.
“Well, I bought two, and they’re eleven dollars, so someone’s drinking it,” Brantley argues. His eyes flash at me and then back to Addison. She looks uneasy enough that I don’t trust she won’t cave.
My throat dries but I manage to muster out, “I’ll drink it then.”
Addisons eyes flash with worry, like she doesn’t believe what I just agreed to.
“Good.” Brantley hands it over and sips his beer before reaching for his phone in his pocket.
I look back at Addison. She’s watching me, waiting to see if I’ll actually drink it.
I turn to Chase. “Get rid of this,” I say, handing him the cup and nodding toward the trash can along the wall.
He disappears in the crowd, and I look back to Addison, throwing a quick wink her way. I watch her shoulders relax and the corners of her mouth turn upwards in a soft, relieved smile. She knows I’ll always have her back.
* * *
Brantley just left for beer number five. The guy is terrible at reading Addison. How doesn’t he see how angry she looks or how tense her shoulders get with every sip he takes?
I glance at Chase and he looks across to Addison. “She’s pissed. Has every right to be,” he says.
“Yup.” I take a step closer to her. “You good?”
She glares at me.
Chase inserts himself. “He know it bothers you like that?”
“Of course he does.” Her teeth are gritted, the anger built up n her eyes, she will hardly look at me. The music gets louder and so does the crowd.
I lean in towards her ear. “Want me to say something?”
She swallows, finally looking up at me. Of course she wants me to, she just doesn’t want to say it.
“I’ve got it.” I nudge her arm and stand back where I was, leaving the empty space between us for when Brantley gets back.
He comes back with beer in hand and an expression as if nothing is wrong. I guess that by beer number five, you probably don’t care about much. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had more than two in one sitting.
I turn towards him. “Hey, man,” I start, keeping my voice friendly. “Maybe hold off after that one?”
“Why?” He follows it with a gulp.
I jerk my head towards Addison. “She’s not really into that.”
Brantley shrugs. “It’s a concert.”
“Yeah,” I continue, “but maybe just show her some respect and stop?”
Addison looks away just as Brantley looks to her, and for a second, I think he’s going to argue, but he sighs and looks back at me instead. “Fine. Whatever.” He doesn’t completely roll his eyes, but the desire to do so is clear as day.
Addison mouths thank you and I give a reassuring yet subtle nod.
The rest of the concert is good—very patriotic and the energy in the room is certainly right there with it.
The worst part was probably having to watch Brantley drunkenly slow dance with Addison to one of the love songs.
She’s loosened up a little now that he stopped drinking, but I can tell she’s still not loving the effects from the beers he did have.
On our way back to my truck, Brantley is holding Addison’s hand. He’s not too sideways, I guess. Which isn’t exactly the greenest flag ever.
“Are you sure you feel okay?” Addison asks him quietly, but I hear it. I stare at the back of his head, waiting for his answer.
If he says no, we’re screwed. She’ll panic and refuse to get in the same vehicle as him if there’s the possibility he’ll get sick. Because then she’ll feel sick. I know the drill.
“Why do you keep asking?” Brantley’s voice is full of attitude, which I do not like.
“Because I don’t want you to get sick,” she tells him, and I mentally pat myself on the back for already knowing that.
They go back and forth a few more times but I have to tell myself to ignore it. I already stepped in once and I need to watch it. I don’t want to overstep; the last thing I wanna do is have Brantley concerned about Addison’s friendship with me.
* * *
At church the next morning, I keep to myself after Sunday school. I’m still tired from getting home as late as we did last night. Addison looked it too, but she was still a smiling Chatty Cathy with everyone.
Heading into the bathroom, I feel someone behind me. Holding the door, I look over my shoulder and see it’s Cody.
“Oh, hey,” I say.
“Hey. How was the concert?” he asks, the door shutting slowly behind him.
“Good. He puts on a good show.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that. He’s a cool guy, proud American.” He follows me to the urinals but leaves two between us.
“For sure. He had a huge American flag roll down behind him and everything.”
“That’s awesome.”
The conversation sorta ends there, while we take care of business.
A thought comes to mind, and I wonder if I should mention Brantley’s behavior from last night. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, but maybe if I let Cody deal with it, I can avoid having tension between me and Addison.
Zipping my jeans up, I step to the sink. “Addison tell you anything?” I say, regretting it almost instantly, because it came out too mysterious.
“Tell me what?” His brows knit.
“I-I don’t know…” I stammer, washing my hands.
“What happened?” he practically demands, looking at me through the mirror. He shoves his hands in his pockets, straightening his body and puffing his chest out.
“It wasn’t a big deal, I guess, but—”
“If you’re worried about it, then it sounds like it was,” he counters. It isn’t until now that I realize there’s absolutely no way I’m getting out of this.
“Brantley. He drank a lot. On the way home he was pretty…I’ll say…handsy with her.”
Obviously it wasn’t anything too serious, but he was trying to kiss her a lot.
And more than your run-of-the-mill peck.
He was practically trying to seduce her.
I only saw his hand get up under the hem of her shirt once, but she was quick to shoo him off.
When he tried again, she got on him about it.
It was awkward for a second, but nothing a little music couldn’t fix.
Chase had turned up the radio and was singing along.
“Handsy?” Cody’s eyebrows raise.
“Yeahhh.”
“You’re gonna have to explain.”
“Just, all over her.”
“Well…did she mind?” he asks, clearly not wanting to paint that picture but doing it anyway.
“I mean, kinda.”
“So, she told him to stop?” His jaw tightens and his voice does too.
“Yeah, and it took him a little too long to listen, if you ask me.” I shrug.
He huffs, angrily. “That kid continues to unimpress me.” He shakes his head.
I understand exactly how he feels. I’m still mad I didn’t step in and say something, but I was driving and he did stop when she called him out the second time, so it was fine.
“You ain’t the only one.” I stifle a laugh.
“He’s got the wrong intentions,” Cody adds and tosses his paper towel in the trash can.
“I get that feeling too. He doesn’t understand her. At all.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll take care of this,” he says, smacking me on the shoulder on his way out the door. “Thanks.”
I look at myself in the mirror and take a deep breath. I don’t know if that was the right thing to do or not. Especially with Cody. I might’ve been better off talking to Jesse or Mason, but he was here and things needed to be said.
I leave the bathroom and head straight for my truck. I don’t want to see Addison, I won’t be able to look at her. Whatever happens now is out of my hands and up to Cody to deal with it. I just hope he keeps me out of it.