Ethan
The bar hums with noise and neon light, country twang and laughter spilling into the night air. It smells like beer, whiskey, and barbecue smoke, the kind of small-town Thursday night that feels like home.
Grace and Penny are already up on stage when I realize what’s about to happen. Grace leans down, whispers something to Cassie and Summer, and all three of them laugh before Penny waves them over with that mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
“Oh, this’ll be good,” Dex mutters next to me, leaning back on his stool.
Summer is laughing, really laughing, as she climbs onto the stage. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes shining under the warm glow of the string lights. Then the first notes of Something Bad by Miranda Lambert and Carrie Underwood fill the bar, and all hell breaks loose.
Grace starts the first verse, Penny jumps in, and then Summer takes the mic.
And my world narrows to her.
She’s not the careful, guarded woman I see most days. She’s loose, free, moving with the rhythm like she finally let something go. Her hips sway with the music, her hair falling in soft waves that catch the light every time she spins. Her voice isn’t perfect, but it’s full, alive, fierce.
Cas is already posted near the stage, grinning like a fool while Penny sings her heart out. The crowd claps along, stomping boots, waving hats, everyone joining in. Summer passes the mic to Cassie, who surprises the whole place by belting her verse like she’s been waiting years for this.
By the time the chorus hits, all three of them are singing together, Summer in the middle, wild and unfiltered. She throws her head back and laughs, and I swear something cracks open inside me.
I take a slow sip of my beer, unable to look away.
She catches me staring and, God help me, leans into it.
Her hips move with the beat, teasing, playful, daring me to keep watching. The room feels smaller, louder, brighter. I can’t hear a damn thing except her laughter and the thump of the bass.
When the song ends, the bar explodes into cheers. Dex whistles behind me, and I can’t even stop smiling.
The girls climb down from the stage, flushed and laughing, and Penny shouts something about “one more round.” But before I can blink, Jace hops up on stage with that devilish grin of his, then gestures to us. Cas, Dex, and I make our way on stage.
The opening beats of SexyBack blare through the speakers.
The women lose their minds.
“Dear Lord,” I mutter, but it’s too late. Jace is already shaking his hips, Dex pretending to ride an invisible horse, and Cas… well, Cas is just doing whatever makes Penny laugh loudest.
The whole bar is crying from laughter. Then Dex, the idiot, starts stripping. The whoops are deafening. Cas follows. I shoot a look at Jace; he shrugs and tosses his shirt into the crowd like a rock star.
And that’s when I do it.
I look right at Summer.
Her lips are parted, eyes wide, cheeks red. I don’t even think. I grab the hem of my shirt, pull it over my head, and throw it straight at her.
The laughter around us doubles. She blinks in surprise, catches it, then, without missing a beat, pulls it on. It’s too big on her, swallowing her frame, and she raises her beer in a toast like she’s wearing armor.
I grin.
She grins back.
It’s chaos around us, music, laughter, people dancing, but for a heartbeat, it’s just us.
The night blurs after that. More songs, more dancing, more ridiculous dares shouted across the bar. The clock hits two a.m. before I realize how late it’s gotten.
I help Cas carry a half-drunk Penny toward the door. Summer’s next to Grace, her boots scuffing the gravel as they walk to the truck. She’s half drunk, hair falling around her face, singing off-key like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Everyone’s laughing, but I can’t.
I’m too busy memorizing the way she laughs, loose, unfiltered, alive. And something unfurls in my chest.
Like an invisible thread is pulling my soul to hers. Strong. Unyielding. Unbreakable.
And in that moment, I don’t just want to watch her. I want to be the reason she laughs like that. The reason she lets herself be free. The reason she never has to hold anything back again.