9. Bailey
nine
Bailey
The air is charged with a palpable current of excitement. The opening band hasn’t even finished setting up and I already have sweat dripping down my back. Please stop at my jeans and don’t continue to my ass crack oh my god. I hate that.
I clocked the two exits on our way in, the red glow now in my periphery.
Liam’s arm keeps sticking to mine but I don’t care. “Bays! Liam! Selfie time!” Nat screams over the roar of the crowd, stuffing herself between us.
He and I know better than to argue so we lean in from either side and give her our best duck face.
“Fucking stop it, you two. Smile like you love me,” she demands.
We oblige, the flash blinding me momentarily. Blink. Jesus Christ. Blink. White spots. Blink.
“My bad, boys. Didn’t mean to use the flash” she laughs as we all three struggle to gain our bearings. “Love you, mean it,” she says as she squeezes us to her.
“We love you too, Nat. You know we do. But get the fuck off me. It’s hot as a taint in here,” I reply.
Liam laughs and Nat rolls her eyes at me, turning back toward the stage to watch the sound check.
I catch Liam gazing at her profile, long locks of hair glittering under the stage lights. Her fair skin, arresting eyes, and raven black hair ensure she turns heads.
I smile, averting my gaze before he realizes I’ve seen him. Interesting.
“How’s everything?” Liam asks inquisitively, interrupting my thoughts. “I know you’ve been as busy as I have with school.”
He leans in closer, “I also know you’ve been acting weird as hell since that party last week. What happened? Who is she?”
Oh, fuck. I freeze, unable to come up with a response.
“We’ve both been busy with school,” chimes Nat with a look of faux irritation. “Professor Collier is going to be the death of me.”
Saved by the Nat. Hopefully Liam is distracted enough to forget what the fuck he just said.
I take the lifeline and run with it.
“Oh my god, that curmudgeon had no business making us read that imbecilic literature compilation,” I scoff, my disdain visceral. “He legitimately just wants us to rearrange, reorganize, and regurgitate the same information for a grade.”
“Dude, I have a professor like that too! What’s up with that?” Liam chimes in. “It’s literally just a bonafide circle-jerk. A complete waste of time. ”
“Your honor, I rest my case,” I state, right hand raised for effect.
“Oh hey, man,” Liam calls over the roar of the crowd.
I turn in the direction he’s facing and my breath catches, my lungs no longer interested in complying.
Oh, fuck.
It’s him.
His eyes are bright with mischief, a sly smirk on his face.
He’s with a giant lumberjack looking guy with a mohawk and traps for days. Jesus, he’s huge.
“Bailey, Nat,” Liam says, getting our attention. “Y’all know Jay and Oliver, right?”
Oh, if you only fucking knew.
“Hey guys!” Nat says, smiling and waving before turning back toward the stage.
“Yeah, hey,” I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. “We’ve met before,” I manage to say. Don’t panic, Bailey. “Which band did you come to see?” I address Lumberjack, unable to make eye contact with Oliver.
“What?” Lumberjack says, placing his hand behind his ear.
“Who did you come to see?” I repeat, louder this time.
“Lorna Shore!” He yells back. “Will Ramos is GOAT.”
I smile. Can’t argue that. Alright, bonus points for lumberjack. Mister bedroom eyes and crop-top? Not so sure.
There’s not a chance in hell I could speak to him. Especially not in front of Liam. He would know immediately. Then he’d grill me the entire drive home until he got to the bottom of it. Nope. Not worth it.
I slowly cast my gaze in his direction. Eyeliner accentuates his dark, knowing brown eyes.
His dreads are pulled up in a half ponytail that complements his already ridiculous jawline, sienna skin glowing under the stage lights.
A thick chain necklace and a black top woven with threads of shimmering silver complete his outfit.
Before I can tear my eyes away, he catches me staring and winks at me.
Seriously? Fucking grown ass men are winking now?
I don’t have to see to know he’s still looking at me.
I can feel it. Feel his eyes on me.
I push all thoughts of Oliver away. Forcing them into the deepest parts of me. Not a luxury I can afford right now. Not ever.
“Don’t think you’re getting off the hook that easily, Bays,” Liam says, throwing his arm across my shoulders. I shimmy out from under him and roll my eyes.
“Come on,” he teases. “At least tell me her name.”
Oliver. Her name—is Oliver.
“That is, unless you forgot hers too,” he laughs.
“Fuck off, Liam.”
A hush falls over the crowd for a nanosecond before an ear-splitting roar erupts as the opener takes the stage.
Liam and I saw them last year headlining a local show.
Their lead singer’s vocals are insane and I’m enjoying watching Nat’s jaw drop.
She turns around and throws her hands up to her face in the OMG pose and I smile back at her.
I fucking told you so.
I knew she’d love them. I can’t wait to see her face when he does his pig squeal.
The blast beats of the drums sink deep into my chest, reigniting a long-dimmed flame within me. I needed this. My smile widens as I let go.
Horns up.
“Let’s fucking go!” I scream.
A wicked grin splits my face when they hit the first breakdown, the vocalist’s raw, guttural growls fucking sending me.
Fuck yes. This shit is nasty and I love it.
I haven’t even had a drink yet and I am floating on air, the ground beneath me forgotten.
The unanswered questions about him and that night set aside for another time.
Liam has lost himself too, a huge goofy grin on his face and not a single care in the world.
I fucking love it.