He’s every country girl’s dream, his calloused hand is warm and I feel nothing. Absolutely, nothing. Then the announcer says something that makes everyone scream. Lifting my gaze to the stage, my entire body freezes and the air leaves my lungs as a man walks up to the microphone.
“Hey Gallup, damn, it feels so good to be home.”
Chapter Six
BEAUMONT
The crowd screams, the noise and vibration filling me from the inside out and soothing my scarred soul. My team, the label, my manager, they wanted this for the money, but I needed it to heal myself from the inside out.
Fuck, did I need this.
All of my fears melt away with the first slam of Austin’s drum stick, the first chord from Jesse, my bassist. I grin into the crowd, the light too bright for me to see much detail, but I do spot my friends in the back, near the bar, instantly.
Lifting my hand, I wave toward them as the band begins to play the opening number.
My fingers move against my guitar strings as I shift forward toward the microphone. Closing my eyes, I begin to sing the opening lyrics, letting the music flow as my fingers work my guitar.
Once the first song is finished, I wrap my hand around the handle of the mic and scan the crowd until I find my friends again.
“I’m happy as hell to be back here, back home. The past few months have been rough, but I feel really fuckin’ good now. How are y’all doin’?” I ask.
The crowd erupts and I can’t help but chuckle. “I got a whole set of friends to support me tonight. Can y’all shine the light over on my friends?” I ask, lifting my chin toward their group.
As soon as the light hits them, my stomach clenches. There, standing next to Ford, is the one woman I thought that I would never see again.
Hutton Baker’s green eyes find mine and I don’t miss the slash of pain that crosses over her face. It’s been nine years, but walking away from her feels like yesterday when my eyes meet hers.
I don’t know how she ended up with them, but I can’t show a reaction, at least not yet. I narrow my gaze on Ford as I continue on with the set. He gives me a shit-eating grin, which makes me believe that he knows exactly who Hutton is to me, what she meant to me, as he stands next to her, touching her.
Once my encore is completed, I lift my hand, tossing my guitar pick into the crowd before telling them goodnight and heading backstage. I’m completely drenched in sweat, from head to toe, my guitar feeling like a hundred-pound weight as I tug it off of my body and place it in its holder for a roadie to safely tuck away for me to use at the next gig.
Growling, I run my fingers through my wet hair, imagining all of the ways that I’m going to strangle one of my best friends. He stayed glued to Hutton’s side the entire time. And Hutton. Fucking shit, she looked good enough to eat, then fuck, then eat a few more times, then fuck again.
She no longer looks like the young woman I once knew. She’s filled out, her body rounding where it counts, her curves goddamn mouthwatering. Those green eyes are the same, though, soul-crushing and full of naivete.
Once I walk into the dressing room, I strip my shirt off and pull on a clean and dry one.
“Well, tell us, how does he compare to the past, Hutt?” a stranger’s voice asks.
Spinning around, I frown when I see that my room is full of everyone I love, and a few extras. Channing, Exeter, Louis, Wyatt, Rylan, Hutton, this strange girl, and then the man I’m going to kill, Ford.
Hutton doesn’t speak, her eyes are focused on me and only me. She looks like she’s about two seconds away from bursting into tears. She shakes her head and tries to take a step back, but Ford doesn’t let her.
If he isn’t careful, he’s going to be a rancher down a goddamn hand—his own.
“Maybe we should all call it a night, meet up for dinner tomorrow?” Exeter suggests, obviously sensing the extreme tension in the room.
The strange girl steps toward me, her head tilting to the side before she lifts a bottle of beer to her lips and takes a pull. It doesn’t entice me. Beer is like water. It’s whiskey that I drank in abundance. It’s whiskey that I wish I had right now.
“So, you’re the infamous Beaumont Griffin,” she murmurs just loud enough for me to hear.
“And you are?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “If you hadn’t been using my best friend nine years ago and were her actual boyfriend, you would know that I’m her best friend, Laurie,” she spits.
“Ooookay, time for everyone to go now,” Louis announces.
My gaze leaves this Laurie woman’s face, shifting over her shoulder to meet Hutton’s eyes. Except, I don’t meet her gaze. She’s looking at the ground and I notice her shoulders shake.
“Everyone out,” I shout.
Laurie jumps and without a word she spins on her heels and marches out of the room. The rest of the people start to file out, but when Hutton moves, my heart jumps into my throat at the idea of her walking away from me.
“Except, Hutton, you stay,” I bark, gruffer than I intend.
“Think I’ll hang around as well,” Ford drawls.
I snort. “You’ve done enough hangin’,” I snap.
Ford’s gaze meets mine, he shakes his head once, staring at me. Whatever he sees he must be okay with. He takes a step back but doesn’t leave immediately.
“Hutton, I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he murmurs.
“She won’t,” I say.
Ford lets out a low whistle then wisely doesn’t say anything else before he turns and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“Look at me, Hutton,” I demand softly.
So slowly that it physically hurts, she lifts her head, her face lifting to meet mine. Her green eyes are watery, rimmed in red and there’s black shit rolling down her cheeks from her makeup.
“What’re doin’ here, darlin’ girl?” I rasp.
Her body shivers as her plump lips part slightly. “I didn’t know it was you,” she whispers. “If I would have known, I wouldn’t have come,” she admits.
“You fuckin’ Ford?” I grind out.
Her eyes narrow, her lips purse, causing my cock to harden. Goddamn, she’s gorgeous. Dipping my chin, I notice that her nipples are pebbled beneath her dress. What I wouldn’t give to taste them right now, bet their taste alone is a better high than a whole bottle of whiskey could ever be.
“How dare you even ask,” she hisses.
I smirk, taking a step toward her, then another, until I’m close enough to wrap my hand around her waist and tug her against my chest.
Dipping my chin, I inhale her sweet scent. Her eyes widen as her head tilts back so that those green eyes can look up into mine.
“Askin’ because I don’t typically fuck women my friends are fuckin’. But for you, I don’t know if I would even care,” I admit.
She places her hands on my chest. I expect her to attempt to push me away, but she doesn’t, instead her fingers fist my shirt.
“You’re a jerk,” she states.
I dip my chin. “It’s true.”
“I hate you,” she breathes.
“That’s a lie.”