Chapter 3

Adelaide

“You’re going to have a blast,” my oldest sister, MaRanda, Mandy to us, hisses as she passes me in the one and only community bathroom the small house we’re crammed into has.

“I’d rather have dental work,” I mumble, squeezing myself against the counter as she slides past, taking up twice the amount of space she actually needs next to me. I glare at her reflection in the mirror. “Crowd me much?”

She winks, but takes a half step to the right to give me a couple extra inches.

“What else do you have planned?” She holds her hand up, stopping me before I list at least a dozen things I could be doing other than freezing my ass off in some stupid pasture. Watching wannabe cowboys get drunk isn’t my idea of a good time. “Watching reruns of Friends while cackling like an idiot who’s seeing them for the first time doesn’t count.”

“For your information, Friends wasn’t even at the top of my list.” It was like number four, but that’s not the point. “I need to study.”

“Midterms are over. You need to relax,” Renee, my other sister, interjects as she pushes into the already full space, sandwiching me between two women as they fluff, spray, and coat makeup on their faces.

“Yeah,” Mandy adds. “You spend too much time with your nose in the books. You should know it all by now.”

“I’ll be lucky if I pull a C minus in my math class,” I sigh.

Hands stop primping, but the cloud of perfume and hair products takes a few seconds to dissipate.

“Bullshit,” Renee says, and I frown at her language.

I’m not a prude, but useless cuss words serve no purpose. At least, that’s what we were raised to believe. Mandy mutters curses periodically, but Renee spouts them like our father is a sailor, not a southern pastor. Although we didn’t come from a stifling religious family, there’s still no reason to use foul language in everyday conversation.

“I’ve been distracted,” I explain. “The last couple weeks, I’ve had trouble concentrating.”

My sisters’ eyes find each other’s, ignoring me for a long moment, and I spiral right back to how I felt years ago when they would do things and deem me too young to participate. Then, all four eyes turn to me, and I immediately regret feeling left out.

“What?” I prompt, busying my hands on the beauty products in front of me, pretending like I might actually use some of them for this ridiculous party tonight.

“Distracted?” Mandy says at the same time Renee chimes, “Can’t concentrate?”

“Yeah,” I answer with a quick shrug. “Probably just end of the year stuff. Ready for summer and all that.”

“Hmmm,” Renee hums.

“You think?” Mandy raises an eyebrow.

“More than likely.”

“So, probably not that country heartthrob who got your panties wet on the side of the road two weeks ago?” Leave it to Renee to just toss something so personal out there like she’s ordering a milkshake at the drive-thru of McDonald’s.

My eyes snap up, giving them exactly what I was trying to avoid.

“I never said he got my panties wet,” I snap. “Quit being vile.”

“What do you think, Mandy?”

I hate the devious look on my sister’s face. “He definitely got her panties wet.”

“Stop,” I huff before pushing past them to leave the room.

I do my best to hide my smile until I get to my room to grab my jacket. They’ve only recently started bugging me about men, taunting me with inappropriate playfulness after my mother started digging in her heels about me settling down. I think it’s because my parents have realized Mandy and Renee are lost causes when it comes to suggestive pursuits and matchmaking. They know they’ll find love in their own time, but there’s hope where I’m concerned.

You know what they say about pastor’s kids—they’re wild, careless, and promiscuous.

Renee grabbed her college freedom by the horns until it died of exhaustion, so she just went and found another bull to tame. Mandy dabbles, not innocent, but also not the wild child Renee has become by any stretch of the imagination.

“He will probably be there tonight,” Mandy whispers as she joins me in the living room.

“I know,” I answer, and I do. I stalked him online like a crazy person before the roadside incident, but after? Let’s just say if he were Whitney Houston, he’d need a bodyguard with the amount of research I’ve conducted over the last two weeks.

“He didn’t go home with anyone after that party he invited you to.” Renee joins us, spreading her knowledge. I nod as if it’s news to me.

“You must have broken his heart,” Mandy adds.

“Or some other chick broke his dick Friday night and he had to take a break,” Renee offers.

“Always a pleasure,” I chide as I lock the front door behind my sisters.

“You driving?” Renee asks. “I plan on doing a lot of drinking.”

“You probably won’t even come back with us,” Mandy says as we head to my car.

“True,” she confirms.

The drive to Old Man Henry’s farm is filled with the incessant chatter of my sisters speculating what was wrong with Axton last weekend. They toss out things like antibiotics for STDs, too drunk for sex, and born again Christian. I chuckle at the last one. If only.

And if he’s the topic of conversation for them, it only means the same discussions are going on all over town. If social media is any indication, his behavior last weekend wasn’t the norm for him, but I don’t want to dwell on it either. My crush on Axton Lane needs to stay just as it is. It’s a mirror of the same mild obsession tons of girls have. The attention he paid me is nothing more than any other southern boy raised with manners.

“Just park over there,” Renee says, pointing to the tall grass beside a beat-up pickup truck.

“You want me to start a fire out here?” I glare at my sister.

“The trucks don’t start fires,” Mandy interjects.

“Trucks are higher up. My catalytic converter practically sits on the dang ground.” I roll my eyes when they both stare at me like I’m speaking a foreign language. “Never mind,” I mumble, parking exactly where she directed. If my car catches the grass on fire and kills everyone, that’s on them.

“You should say things like that when you talk to Axton tonight. Country boys love that shit.” Renee checks her face in the visor mirror before opening the passenger door to get out.

“I doubt that,” I counter, taking in the dozens of people walking around. Guys grabbing girls on the butts and the girls squealing like idiots at their attention. “I get the feeling these guys are perfectly fine with women who just fall at their feet.”

“You should try it,” Renee urges as she walks closer. “Just walk up to Axton and curl up at his feet. Call him sir. He’s bound to fall for you that way.”

“Ridiculous,” I say, but can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of my mouth. She may be undiscerning in her love pursuits, but she’s in no way okay with misogyny.

The only way I’ll be on my knees for a man is if he’s on his elbows.

She’s told me that more than once.

“You know,” Mandy interrupts, “just because some people have those types of relationships doesn’t make them weird.”

I smile over at my middle sister. “I agree.”

Renee chuckles. “Can we at least agree Addi needs to unzip her jacket and let her tits breathe?”

“You are trying to catch a hottie,” Mandy adds with an eager nod of her head.

“No, I’m not.” I swat Renee’s hand when she reaches up for the third time to try to tug my zipper down.

“Listen,” Mandy says, cupping her hand to the back of her ear. “He’s here.”

“Really?” I shift up onto the tips of my toes and look toward the blazing fire across the field.

“Exactly,” she says with a devious smirk.

I’m not a violent person, but I can’t help the image of punching both of my laughing sisters as we close the distance between my car and the heart of the party.

“I don’t want him, but I won’t deny I do want to see him. Can we just leave it alone? Let me hide in the shadows and watch him sing like the creeper I am.”

“You may not be safe in the shadows,” Mandy remarks as she pushes her stylish glasses up a little higher on her nose.

“Don’t try to scare her,” Renee says, shoving her out of the way.

“I wasn’t,” Mandy argues.

“On second thought,” Renee says, a devious grin pulling at her lips, “it may not be safe in the shadows. You should stick to the light. Axton usually has the best light near him. That’s where you’re going to be the safest.”

My eyes roll, but I take several steps closer to the party. The warmth of the fire licks against my cheeks even from fifteen yards away. The blaze, built to perfection by people with years of apparent bonfire building experience, is the center of festivities. Everyone circles around it, either stopping to talk to the clusters of people chatting or making their way to coolers situated along the tamped down grass.

“Axton does have the best light,” Mandy says, both of us watching the sway of our sister’s hips as she goes to talk to the collection of boot-wearing, denim-clad men a few feet away. “Just don’t wander off or drink anything that’s been opened.”

“Really?” I ask, mildly annoyed. “Not my first pasture party.”

“Here,” Renee says as she walks back over, handing me an unopened bottle of water and Mandy a beer.

“Where?” I ask, indicating the bottle in my hands.

Renee hitches her thumb behind her. “My new friends.”

Mandy and I both look over to find four of the six guys staring at Renee’s back, hopeful looks in their eyes. Poor fellas. She’s already forgotten them.

“Come on,” Renee urges. “I have a friend I’d like you to meet.”

We make our way around the fire, and I hear him before I see him. Axton’s melodic voice floats in the soft, early spring breeze as the final chords of a song I’m not familiar with fades away.

“Hey, Axton,” my now ex-sister says with a quick wave of her hand.

He nods, the motion almost mechanical as he gives her a quick glance. When his eyes find mine, the indifference changes into something warmer. My blood heats, temperature spiking from more than just the fire.

His fingers never stop moving on the guitar strings as one song ends and the next begins. Brett Young’s “In Case You Didn’t Know” flows from his lips as if he wrote the ballad himself, and I try to look away, but the words, the attention, the passion in his soulful voice, has me entranced.