Sorrel #2
The rest of the band settle into their positions, two guitar players and a drummer.
Denton Reed leans into the microphone. “Welcome, everyone, and thank y’all for being here tonight!
” His voice is smooth and deep and it’s even prettier when he starts singing his first song.
It’s a George Strait cover, so I know all the words.
Charli and I sing along, holding each other, swaying back and forth, sipping our whiskey.
She’s right. I needed to get out. I’ve been cooped up at the ranch too long.
The past year since my breakup hasn’t been easy—I’ve tried putting on a brave face. But it’s getting to me, and if I don’t face it soon, I never will. It's so easy to just hide out day after day in my cabin—my safe space. But that’s not really living, is it?
A few more songs in and I turn to Charli, who’s absolutely mesmerized by the man on the stage, actually all the men. Each one of them has a different style but they’re all attractive in their own way. Charli’s eyes are huge and bounce around to each of them. I smile at her and tap her shoulder.
“Hey, I’m gonna go get us another round. Do you wanna see your boyfriend, the bartender, or should you save our spots?”
“Nah, you go. I’ll stay, there’s plenty of eye candy right in front of me.” She giggles, and I think the whiskey is getting to her.
I turn to head to the bar. I see there’s one closer off to my left a few feet away from the stage so I pivot back and my face runs right smack into a big broad chest. I know that chest, the smell of that cologne.
The tattoos that swirl across those bulky arms. I look up, the whiskey in my stomach churning as I see my ex.
Huck fucking Kenzington.
“Thought I’d find you here, darlin’,” he says with a dark chuckle.
He looks the same as when I saw him nearly a year ago.
Huck Kenzington isn’t gorgeous like the man on stage.
He’s dangerous and wild. The type of man I knew was going to break my heart at some point.
He stands six feet four inches, with jet-black hair and a powerful jaw, pure muscle.
He only ever wears the color black. Black button-up, black cowboy hat, and black caiman boots.
He’s one of the best bareback riders on the circuit, one of the few things his parents’ money couldn’t buy.
Just raw talent. His dark, unreadable eyes make him intimidating and alluring at the same time to most women, and he knows it.
He usually gets what and who he wants. Guess that’s what had intrigued him about me—the chase.
I didn’t give him the time of day at first. He had the words “BAD, DANGER, DO NOT TOUCH” practically written all over him.
Little did I know in the long run I didn’t stand a chance.
He had a side to him I couldn’t resist, a side he only showed me that most would never get the chance to see.
I got caught in his snare. When I fell for it, I fell so fucking hard.
“What do you want, Kenzington?” I say, tone clipped. But I’m fucking shaking inside.
“Aw, c’mon Sor, don’t be like that. I miss you, baby.’”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” I snap, turning my face away from his. Looking at him when he says my name disgusts me now.
I used to love the way he called me Sor. It would make me melt every time. But now anything he says puts an awful taste in my mouth. I need to get as far away from him as possible and something to wash it away.
Charli’s attention is no longer on Denton Reed and his band. She comes running to my rescue, but it’s too late. He’s already grabbing me. Panic sinks in, and I freeze in place. Flashbacks flood my mind. There’s nothing I can do—the feel of his touch paralyzes me.
“Let go of her, you piece of shit!” Charli screams.
“Oh, stop. You damned barrel racers are so dramatic.” He shoves her back, not realizing how tiny she is. She goes flying.
That’s when I snap out of it and wrench away from him.
“Don’t you fucking touch her!”
“Fucking hell, Sorrel, quit causing a scene,” he says as if I was the one who started it.
Len runs over, and I realize we are definitely causing a scene. Everyone’s attention is on us, including Denton Reed. It’s like the entire concert practically pauses as everyone in the crowd watches. Huck finally lets go once Len gets to us and gives him a don’t-fucking-try-me look.
“Everything all right, girls?”
I narrow my eyes at Huck. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
His eyebrows come together and his eyes go dark, a look that says this isn’t over.
Len knows better than to leave him alone with us. He’s very familiar with Kensington and his antics.
“Why don’t you come on over backstage with me, girls?”
Huck is on our tails, following after us. Len turns around and put his hand up. “Just the girls, Kenzington.”
Huck growls and squeezes his knuckles. Len puffs his chest out and crosses his arms. Is there about to be a showdown?
Tension crackles in the air and it feels like we're in an old western. Who’s going to draw first?
Huck must have one good brain cell left because something in him tells him he won’t be winning this duel.
Or maybe it was the fact that his parents won’t tolerate any more town gossip caused by him.
The Kenzingtons are tired of their problem child.
He’s on his last leg with them before they cut him off completely.
I see the muscles in his jaw relax, and he gives us a mocking grin before turning on the heel of his boot.
Huck walks back to his roughie buddies, who are all huddled around some buckle bunnies.
They’re all wearing plastic boots with their pants tucked in and crop tops that show off their thin stomachs.
Huck throws his arm around one with bright red hair and a pointy face.
She grabs his broad chest, practically salivating over him.
I gag and feel the whiskey making its way up my throat.
He turns back in my direction and looks at me before placing a kiss on the redhead’s lips, trying to make me envious.
His eyes are open the whole time he does it.
Part of me feels bad for her. She has no clue that it’s all for show.
Charlie mouths “fuck off “ and gives him the bird. She grabs my wrist, dragging me away.
We make our way to the side of the stage. I see Denton Reed’s eyes drift over to us. I’m so incredibly embarrassed we just caused a scene during his show. I wish I could apologize; I’d be pissed if someone did something like that during one of my runs.
Now that we’re so close to the stage, I’m able to make out his features.
Not as rough as Kenzington but still just as sexy with a smile that could disintegrate your heart.
He’s about six foot three inches or taller if I could guess, and he’s built on the leaner side but still firm and muscular.
The way he lowers his eyes and looks at me like he’s singing just to me has my stomach doing somersaults.
I must be imagining it. I’m sure every girl who gets to be this close to the stage feels this way.
For Christ's sake, he’s a musician. I’m sure they’re practically trained to do this.
It’s all the art of the act, I remind myself—he’s a performer.
I’m still shaken up by everything that went down and I need a drink, bad.
We’re too far from the bar now, so Charli—the sweet-talkin’ gal that she is—gets some guys hanging out backstage to give us their beers since they were double-fisting and had two fresh ones each.
She’s heaven sent, I swear it. I’m not sure what I did to deserve such a good friend.
I steady my breathing, easing my nerves.
When I look up, Denton Reed’s gaze is lingering in our direction again.
I stare back, partly because we’re at a concert and that’s where I’m supposed to be looking.
But also because I’m totally starstruck by him.
I watch his alluring mouth as he tilts his head, lips grazing the microphone and eyes glancing in our direction every few seconds.
“Girl, I think he is looking at you,” Charli says.
“No way, he’s probably looking at you,” I brush her off.
His shoulders are turned toward us instead of straight at the crowd and I’m beginning to think maybe she’s right.
I continue to stare at him, going along with whatever game he’s playing at.
My lips curl in holding back a smile. His are twitching in return, when he finally turns back toward his audience.
“Are y’all havin’ fun tonight?”
The crowd cheers in response.
“We’re gonna be taking a brief break here, and me and the boys will be back on in ten. Thanks, y’all!”
Denton Reed is walking over to where we're standing. My body buzzes, and I’m sure I have a deer in the headlights look on my face. Charli looks up at me and gives me a nudge with her elbow, and a shit-eating grin on her face.