Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Now, he definitely didn’t need to worry about being recognized.
All the while, music blasted from each stage, the crowds around them bobbing in time with the music. Hands, flags, signs — all moving together like they were floating on the same wave.
“We should get going soon,” Jaxson said when the sun started to set. It lit the festival up in a golden glow with a brilliant pink sky as the backdrop.
“What? We can’t leave yet! Trust me — it’s even better at night.”
Jaxson chewed his lip, debating, the light-up mask flashing in his hand at his side.
“Come on,” I said, stepping in front of his thinking face. “We’re less than two hours from St. Louis. If we leave here at ten, we can drive an hour, get a hotel for the night, and head the rest of the way in tomorrow. When is your tee time?”
“Eleven.”
“See,” I said. “We’ve got plenty of time. Come on, Brittzy,” I goaded, stepping a little closer. “Don’t you want to dance with me?”
I was already tugging him toward the main stage, one brow lifted as I started winding my hips. We both knew damn well I couldn’t pull him with me if he didn’t want me to. He was twice my size and weight at least.
But he let me drag him, a smirk finding his lips as he looked up to the sky and shook his head.
Then, he took his hat off long enough to put his mask back on, and I knew I’d won.
I laughed, keeping his hand in mine as I turned so I could navigate us through the crowd.
I wanted to be close, to make my way as far as I could toward the stage. The trick was to just dance your way through, which was exactly what I did.
I held Jaxson’s hand over head, twirling myself underneath it before I shimmied my shoulders and rolled my hips. With every step, I danced with the crowd, and this was what I loved about festivals — everyone danced right along. No one was upset, no one shoved us back like they had a right to their place by the stage. They all made room.
Everyone was welcome.
Still, the closer we got to the stage, the thicker the crowd was. Soon, there was barely enough room to wiggle through, and the dome of the stage stretched high over us like a bubble shielding us from the world.
The music was louder, heavier, every beat vibrating through me.
The lights were blinding, the fog swirling beneath them in a hypnotic dance.
Body heat surrounded us from every angle — hips moving, hands in the air, every person just surrendering to the music.
I found a small opening as close as I felt we could get, and then I turned to face Jaxson, making sure he was alright.
The last bit of sunlight was fading, the sky beyond the festival a dusty blue now. The crowd began to glow, costumes and signs flashing to the beat just like Jaxson’s mask was. And it didn’t matter that we were surrounded by thousands of people.
All I could see was him.
His hair was a mess when he whipped his hat off, the brown strands damp from sweat and a bit longer than they’d been that night in Austin. He removed the mask next, scrubbing a hand over his face on a smile, eyes cast up toward the lights streaming overhead. Those eyes were wide and curious. He was taking it all in, feeling this moment we had somehow found ourselves in.
I loved seeing him like that — relaxed, happy, free.
The throng of people around us pulsed like a living thing, slowly pushing in on every side. I was bumped from behind, and I braced my hands on Jaxson’s arm to steady myself. He took a step to help right me, dropping the mask to the ground and putting his hat on backward as he did. But as soon as he moved, someone slid into the space behind him.
We were sandwiched together, every beat pushing us closer and closer, until there was barely an inch of space between us.
I studied the ink sprawling on his arm I held onto, the blue and black illuminated by flashes of yellow and white lights. My eyes traveled up from there, roaming his taut forearms, the swells of his biceps, all the way up to the neckline of his t-shirt.
I didn’t realize my fingertips were tracing the same path my eyes were until I just gently touched his throat, and I felt him swallow, the motion tight.
My eyes shot to his, but I didn’t remove my hand.
Instead, my other came to join it, just as another person squeezed behind me trying to make their way closer to the stage.
That annihilated what little space was left between us.
I shivered as his body heat encompassed mine, my hands against his chest as his just barely rested on my hips. It was like he was torn between only holding me enough to keep me steady or pulling me flush against him.