Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
His mouth quirks to the side as he starts the car.
“She’s crazy about Kelley,” I say. “And Seven Shot is one of her favorite bands. There’s no way she’d miss this unless she really felt like crap.”
“You’re right.” He reaches across the car and touches my face, brushing the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” I turn to kiss his fingertips. “I was thinking the same about you when I saw you in the doorway upstairs. I don’t know how Lily didn’t notice my eyes practically falling out of my head looking at you.”
He chuckles. “It sucks Lily isn’t with us, but I’m looking forward to having you all to myself for the night.”
I smile. “I wish it could be a real date.”
“I do, too. But if Kelley—or someone else we know—sees us, I’ll never hear the end of it. It could get back to Lily or your parents…”
“I know,” I agree. “But we can still enjoy the night together. I’m happy just being with you.”
He doesn’t back out of the driveway. He stares down at his hand for a few moments, then says, “Since it’s still kind of a date, I should do this.”
He pulls off his wedding band and puts it in the console between our seats.
I feel like the air has been sucked out of my lungs. “Alex… you don’t have to do that. It doesn’t bother me.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”
A strange, unsettled feeling sinks to the pit of my stomach as we head toward the concert. I glance over at him, at his hand on the steering wheel, his finger bare with a pale strip of flesh where the ring was. I realize I’m upset that he took the ring off. I want him to put it back on and never take it off.
The concert is at an outdoor venue two hours away. Three other bands are playing besides Seven Shot, but they’ll all be performing Seven Shot songs because this is a tribute to Dylan King. The area is already jam-packed with people. I hold on to Alex’s arm as we make our way through the crowds, hoping we don’t run into anyone we know.
The first thing we do is stand in line for twenty minutes to buy three T-shirts. I make Alex hold one up so I can take a picture and text it to Lily.
“So, there’re no chairs?” I observe out loud as we head toward the stage with the rest of the crowd.
“Nope. We can sit in the grass over there,” he nods to an area to the left of the stage.
“I’m glad I didn’t wear a skirt.”
He glances at me with that damn sexy grin on his face. “Me too. I’d have to kill every guy here for looking at you.”
I give him a quick kiss on the cheek. His stubble tickles my lips. “Do I sense a jealous streak?”
“Maybe a little one.”
I might have a little streak myself. Alex seems utterly oblivious to the women checking him out, but I definitely notice. Something about the eye patch is sexy and attractive in that bad-boy way women love.
I check my phone to see if Lily sent a funny reply to the T-shirt picture, but my message to her still shows unread.
“We should’ve brought a blanket,” Alex says when we pick a spot to sit.
“I don’t mind. The ground is dry.”
I think little cartoon hearts burst out of my chest when he lays his new T-shirt on the ground for me to sit on.
“Can you stop being so perfect?” I tease when he sits next to me. “Especially in public. You’re making all the other guys look bad.”
Just as the sun sets, a gorgeous woman walks across the stage and takes the mic. The crowd erupts in cheers, throwing their hands in the air.
I lean closer to Alex. “Who’s she?”
“She’s Dylan King’s wife.”
“Oh!”
She proceeds to talk about her late husband—his legacy and how much she misses him. How he lives on in his music and how grateful she is to all the fans for their love and support. My heart breaks for her when she chokes up. The lead guitarist joins her center stage and takes the mic from her. He gives his own heartfelt speech, then tells the audience that for the first time, they’ll be playing with a new singer—a guy they found singing their songs in a club in a tiny town in New Hampshire who blew them away with his vocals.
The crowd cheers again. I’m in awe at the sea of screaming people.
“This is wild,” I say. “Kelley’s gotta be so nervous.”
He nods. “It's a far cry from the Possum’s Den.”
Kelley appears from the side of the stage and runs to the center. I can’t see him well from where we’re sitting, but the huge LED screen suspended from the side of the stage shows us a close-up of him.