Trevor leaned against the side of the stage and set his drink down. “You lucky bastard, you’ve got it made.” He laughed, staring out at the crowded bar.

I tuned my guitar. “Yeah, if pussy makes you a made-man, I guess so.” I rolled my eyes and plugged in my amp. “You’re an idiot.”

“Seriously, look.” He motioned with his chin toward the girls at the side of the stage primping and giggling like mindless bimbos. “You could have any of them.”

Sometimes I think growing up privileged makes you a dumbass. And by privileged, I don’t mean growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth, I mean growing up with more than one person that gives a shit about you. It must be hard to appreciate things of value when you have no idea what’s valuable. And girls like that—they aren’t valuable. They’re a distraction from your shitty life. “Man,” I said, taking a seat on the barstool, “any idiot can get a girl to fuck him.”

“True, but only an idiot with a guitar can get any girl to fuck him.”

Laughing, I reached down, grabbed my drink from the floor of the stage, and took a sip. Over the rim of the plastic cup, I caught sight of Meg and Hannah walking in, and I grinned around my drink. Hannah was in a pair of faded jeans, her hair in a loose ponytail, and that made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst all the short skirts and tight dresses. It made my heart beat a little faster. Jesus, this is ridiculous.

“What are you…” Trevor glanced over the crowd then slunk into the shadows of the stage. “Aw, shit,” he mumbled, pulling the bill of his ball cap down a little. “That’s Meg, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” I said, staring at Hannah.

“Look, dude, I told you. Have at it, she’s batshit crazy.”

“Are you fucking insane? I don’t want her.”

“Then what were you…” Squinting, he took another survey of the crowd. “Oh, hell no. Hannah?” He lifted both brows. “Hannah Blake?”

I smiled like a little shit, plucking the string of my guitar.

“She wouldn’t give you the time of day, she’s a—”

Hannah grinned and waved at me from the side of the room, and I waved back before looking over at Trev. “What was that?”

“Aw, she’s just being nice because you’re working for her dad. I’m telling you.”

“How about you just shut up and get drunk?” I stepped up to the mic and cleared my throat, strumming out the notes to the first song.

Toward the end of the first set, Trevor made his way to the bar, and there was Meg right behind him. She pretended to ignore him, sweeping her hair to the side. I never did get girls. I mean, she knew he was an ass, and yet, there she was watching him all googly-eyed. If I had to guess, she was waiting for him to look her way so she could pretend she wanted nothing to do with him.

I kept singing, all my attention on Hannah, barely any on the words rolling from my lips.

When I finished the set, the girls at the front clapped. The rest of the bar didn’t give two shits about anything but their drinks and who they were taking home for the night.

“Alright, well, that’s it for me. Now, y’all get to listen to that dance shit they play on Saturday nights.” I laughed before switching the mic off and packing my guitar up. I slipped my arm through the case strap and hopped off the stage, staring at the floor so I didn’t have to talk to any of the girls crowding around me.

At the edge of the dance floor, I noticed a guy with his arm braced on the wall, cornering Hannah in the back of the room. Her lips pinched in a frown, her jaw set. Hannah tried to move away from him, but he blocked her, and a fire lit my ass up.

Some drunk stumbled across my path, and I shoved him out of the way. “Asshole,” he shouted, but I paid him no mind. I was focused on Hannah. Her eyes locked with mine over the dipshit’s shoulder, and I guess that’s what made him turn to look at me. Ah, hell. Max Summers. My jaw tensed, my hands automatically balled into fists. Pushing my shoulders back, I stepped between them and placed my arm around her, shooting him the back-the-hell-away-from-my-girl glare. “Come on, let’s go get drinks,” I told Hannah.

Just as I went to step around Max, a sarcastic smile spread over his face. “So,” he said, giving Hannah a fleeting glance before eyeing me up. “This is the kind of guy you go for now, huh, Hannah? Poor”—he squared up to me—“white”—then cracked his neck to the side like a WWF wrestler—“trash.”

Oh you sonofa… All I heard was a fight bell ding in my head. Clenching my teeth, I slid my guitar off my shoulder and rested it against a chair. God, my knuckles were aching to bust his nose open.

Hannah placed her palm on my chest and subtly shook her head.

I wanted to make her happy more than I wanted to nail him in the face, that should have been my first clue I was in trouble. I took a breath, my pulse thrumming in my neck. “Fuck off, Summers.” The second I turned my back to him, there was a crack and a splintering pain shot across the side of my head. Dazed, I stumbled forward a few steps and caught myself on a bar table. Shattered bits of glass tumbled over my shoulder when I looked up, and, of course, there was a crowd gathering around. Shit.

“Leave him alone, Max!” Hannah shoved her hands against him, but he didn’t budge.

“Aw, that’s cute.” Max laughed. I thumbed under my nose, bristling with anger. God, I’m going to beat his ass. “Guess you’ve turned into a whore now, huh, Hannah?”

That’s it! My temper snapped, sparking like a live wire. I drew my arm back and slammed my fist right into his cheek. He fell against the wall, stunned, and I hit him again. He attempted to throw a weak punch at me, but I ducked and nailed him right in the gut before I grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed him into the wall. Leaning into his face, I said, “Don’t say shit like that about her.” I gave a final push then let him go. He sank to the floor.

My chest heaved with anger when I turned around, my knuckles pulsing and throbbing.

Hannah’s hand was clasped to her mouth and she had one arm held tightly across her chest. I wasn’t sure whether she was pissed or scared, but she took hold of my hand and dragged me from the room.

One of the bouncers stopped us in the doorway. “Gotta problem, Greyson?”

Hannah held her hand up. “Don’t, Billy. Max started it.”

“Ah, right. Max.” Billy clapped me on the shoulder. “Dude’s a dick,” he said before heading into the room buzzing with excitement.

Without another word, Hannah pulled me through the bar toward the exit. A stream of cigarette smoke drifted in front of us when we stepped through the doorway. She swatted it away from her face. There was a moment where she just stared across the parking lot, gnawing at her lip. Finally, she huffed. “Thanks.”

“That guy’s a piece of shit. I’ve already beat his ass once.” I dropped Hannah’s hand and swiped my hand through my hair, worried the bastard was going to file a charge against me. Again. That’s all I needed, I thought as I paced underneath the flickering neon light of the bar. “Fuck!”

“Hey, it’s fine.” She placed her hand on my arm. It was such a simple touch, yet it provided so much comfort. Damn. She’s getting me good.

“Can you…” She rifled through her purse with her free hand before pulling out her phone. “Can you take me home? I just kinda want to get outta here and Meg’s in there with her ex and she’ll probably—”

“Yeah, of course.”

Smiling, she jabbed her finger over the screen of her phone then put it to her ear. I nodded toward my truck and we walked side by side through the gravel lot.

“Hey,” she said into her phone. “Where are you?” I unlocked the door and held it open for her. “Yeah, yeah. I figured,” she huffed. “Okay, well, I’ve got a ride so—”

She closed the door, and I went around to the driver’s side. When I cranked the engine, she was still on the phone. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I promise.” And then she hung up, looking over and shooting me a nervous grin while she wiped her palms on the legs of her jeans.

“Meg warning you about me?”

“Huh?” Her brow wrinkled.

“I know she told you to stay away from me,” I said as I pulled onto the two-lane highway. I glanced over, and she’d narrowed her eyes. I would almost bet money she was wondering how I knew. I didn’t. What I did know was that most girls warn their best friends to stay away from the Big Bad Wolf, and Meg knew I was no good for Hannah. Hell, obviously, she wasn’t wrong.

“I know she did, so, why are you talking to me?”

“Maybe I don’t believe her.”

“Oh really?” I laughed. It was cute.

“Should I?”

The traffic light turned red and I stopped. The moonlight crept through the windshield and over her face. That raw beauty that radiated from her, it made me weak. “Maybe.” My gaze fell to her lips, and all I wanted to do was kiss her. Maybe I could have kissed her. Possibly, have done a lot of things to her, but for the first time in my life, I was scared I’d screw something up, so I swallowed and settled on grabbing her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. I didn’t want to taint her innocence. I wanted to drown in it, instead.

“I’ll take my chances,” she said. The light changed, and I turned my attention back to the road. The engine sputtered, nearly stalling when I pressed the gas.

“It’s good to live on the edge.”

“There’s a first for everything…”

The little town faded into nothing but fields of tall grass. Cow pastures. Fields of cotton in full bloom. “You do know I’m not taking you home yet, right?”

“Really?” A smile inched across her face.

“It’s bad manners to take a lady home before midnight.” I tapped the clock on the dash. “So, I’ve got another hour and fifteen minutes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Come on, you know you don’t want to go home yet.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”