“Are you guys wearing the baseball caps and sunglasses so people don’t recognize you?” I ask Jack and Townie.

Townie grins at me. “Nope. We got these for free in the VIP section. They have rows of stuff out for the taking.”

“Townie was like a kid in a candy shop,” Jack says, shaking his head.

Shay holds out her arm, showing her neon green wristband. “Hey, don’t these get us special access?” she asks me.

They do. One of my Instagram followers is on the marketing committee for StageFest and reached out to me about the tickets. At first she offered two VIP, but when I mentioned my sister would be bringing Jett Decker, she sent three of them. Though I haven’t admitted it to myself until now, I avoided mentioning the special access we were granted because I was worried about running into Jack. I didn’t want him to think I’d gone out of my way for him. Now that he’s here, beside me, our fingers brushing, my fear of seeing him seems silly.

“Yeah. We can head over there tomorrow. Let’s grab some food so we can get good spots for the opening band.”

Jack tugs on the strap of the camping chair slung over my shoulder and slides it off. Without a word, he takes it from me and throws it over his own shoulder. For some reason, the small gesture causes a lump to form in my throat.

I can feel Jack watching me as I scope out the food options, but he doesn’t say anything. Townie, however, doesn’t let it go. “Hold up, you guys have the same wristbands as us?”

He puts out his wrist next to mine. “They don’t say artist,” I point out. “Just VIP.”

“Wait, so anyone can pay extra to get the special treatment?” Townie looks crestfallen that he might not be as special as he thought, and I try not to laugh.

“Hey, what makes you think I paid extra for these?” I tease. “This right here,” I gesture to myself, Jett, and Shay, “is a very important person entourage.”

Jett foils my attempt to play with Townie, telling him about the Instagram account, and the blog I’m starting. I should be taking pictures right now, actually, but I don’t want Jack in them. Sure, it’d boost my following, but it’s not the kind of attention I’m looking for. Besides, I want Jack to like me. I don’t want him to think I’m using him.

“You know,” Townie says, “those wristbands get you into the air-conditioned tent with catered food.”

I shake my head. “No way I’m missing out on the food trucks for some catered shit. All right, maybe it’s not shit, but probably standard catering fare. Even if the lineup sucked, I’d still come to StageFest for the food scene.” My mouth is watering just thinking of some of the dishes I tried last year. “I swear, only the best food trucks and food stands get spots at this festival. It could be a food festival. Oh! Yes! The creperie from last year is here!” I break out in my signature happy dance, which involves some popping and moonwalking. Hip hop moves don’t exactly go with the Grateful Dead tune playing from the speakers throughout the food area, but whatever.

“Damn, girl,” Townie mutters.

“She’s got moves,” Shay proclaims proudly.

“Kick shows up at the track parties and holds her own dancing off with the girls on my team,” Jett says.

“I might have pasty skin, but I’ve got rhythm,” I brag.

“What about music?” Jack asks. “You play or sing?”

Shay starts laughing, giving me away. I shove her. “You’re not much better.”

Shay wipes her eyes. “Kick wanted to be a musician so bad. She tried every instrument. Piano, sax, French horn. God, Kick, you were awful. It was painful.”

I have to laugh with her. “I wasn’t so terrible at the drums.”

I glance over at Jack and find him looking thoughtful, like he wants to say something, but is holding back.

“However,” I add with a dramatic tone, “I have excellent taste in music.”

Jack purses his lips, amused.

We reach the creperie truck, and I examine the menu, unable to stop myself from taking a photo of it. The truck has a vintage vibe, and the menu is written in swirly calligraphy, flowers twisting around the words.

Jett and Shay are splitting one savory and one sweet crepe, and that annoying little pang of jealousy is there. I’m used to it now, and I brush it off.

Leaning in to Jack, I ask, “Halvsies?”

“Halvsies?” he echoes, quirking a brow. I smile at his perplexed expression. “You want to split something?”

“I want some savory and some sweet. We can get one of each and go halvsies on them.”

I watch as his eyes light up in an “aha” moment. He points at me. “Smart.”

I shrug. “I know.”

“Well, shit, guess I’ll have to find me a girl,” Townie says, acting all forlorn beside us.

I swing a friendly arm around his shoulder, indulging him. “Or just get savory and sweet. If you can’t finish, I guarantee me, Shay, or Jett will be able to help.”

We decide to bring the food with us toward the stage, and find a spot to stake out not too far from the front. We’ve carried chairs on our backs, but don’t have any for Townie or Jack. When Shay sits on Jett’s lap, freeing up a chair, Jack looks at me. We silently agree to do the same, letting Townie take the third chair, and that’s how I find myself perched on Jack Kingston’s lap, eating the best crepes on the planet, waiting for the opening act at StageFest.

I’ve had a single beer, but the buzz I haven’t felt in forever is vibrating happily through me. This time, though, it’s… cleaner. I haven’t sought it out. I came here for fun with my sister and Jett, good music, good food, dancing, mingling – not trying to get a fix necessarily, just to have a great time. There’s a distinction between this and the buzz I used to chase, one I can’t explain to anyone, but I feel it. This, right here, it’s more wholesome, not tainted in any way, than that high I sought out the night I met Jack. And so many nights before him too.

Jack stays with us for the entire night. Townie leaves after the first band to meet up with Will, the band’s bass player. There isn’t much talking, but it feels like we’re communicating the entire evening, expressions shared in reaction to the music, dancing slow and fast as the music changes. Jett and Shay are wrapped up in each other, and after a few songs lightly brushing up against one another, I finally move in front of Jack so we’re close, dancing together, his front to my back.

By the time the final song plays for the night, I’m exhausted. We have the chairs, but spent most of the last five hours on our feet, dancing. Jack walks back to the campsite with us. Without him beside me, I’d be wandering around by myself while Jett and Shay do their thing. I would’ve found some people who seemed cool and hung out with them for a little while before crashing. Tonight, I just want to hold onto Jack a little longer.

Shay and Jett busy themselves setting up the cab for sleeping, and Jack takes my hands. I’m used to having a plan, an agenda. I’m used to taking control in these situations, not waiting awkwardly for the guy to make the next move. But I tried doing it my way before with Jack, and didn’t like where it landed us. Now, I don’t know what to do. I want him, yes, that’s undeniable. But as he watches me, searching for something, I think I’ll take more talking, hanging out, over sliding into the tent and getting naked.

“You want to go on the Ferris wheel?” I ask, my hands twisting the hem of my shirt as I hold my breath, waiting for his answer. The question thankfully sounds normal to my ears, my voice not betraying the internal butterflies.

Jack smiles softly. “Hell, yes.” Gah, those dimples.

Saying good night to my sister and Jett, we make our way past hundreds of cars and tents. People mill about, some high as kites. Jack holds my hand, guiding us through the grounds.

By the time we’re sitting alone in a Ferris wheel car, the fluttering in my chest has reached an all-time high. As nice as it feels with Jack, I’m out of my element doing the wholesome-girl thing, acting like we’re on a date or something. Especially with our history. Or at least mine.

Jack turns my chin to look at him, and I see concern etched in his brow. “You’re not the same girl I met in October, are you?” he asks softly. It’s more of a statement than a question. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel like he sees right through me. He’s catching every single thought and emotion that’s swirling around inside me, even the ones I can’t quite get a handle on.

It’s an unnerving feeling, as though I’m standing naked in front of him. Exposed. I avert my eyes, trying to push away the wave of shame threatening to crash down. “Which girl do you like better?” I wanted to sound flirtatious, but my voice cracks slightly, betraying my feelings. I probably sound desperate to him.

I glance back up at him. His expression is unreadable. “Both. All of it. You. You’re still a fireball, that’s for sure,” he says gently.

My eyes widen at his confession. I don’t know how to respond. My gut reaction is to lighten the mood somehow but I don’t want to cheapen the words. I didn’t expect him to notice the changes in me, but now that he has, a rush of relief hits me. It’s followed by a wave of fear.

The car moves as more passengers load, and Jack slides closer to me, caging my legs between his thighs and knees.

“There’s something darker, sadder maybe, closer to the surface now. I knew it was there before, but hidden. I was distracted by the rest of you. You wouldn’t let me look any further than the fun and spontaneous girl you wanted me to see.”

My jaw drops a little as he speaks. I can’t believe he’s saying this. How does he know? It’s more than Shay, Coco, Beatrice, anyone sees in me, or if they do see it, they don’t voice it. Not like this. Laying it all out bare. My pulse quickens and warmth spreads through me even as goosebumps run down my arms. I love that he sees me. That he gets me. But it terrifies me too.

“You’re still spunky, still make heads turn, but the recklessness isn’t there.” He tilts his head, like he’s working through it, trying to figure it out. And then his features shift from serious to a light chuckle and he shakes his head. “Or maybe I just want to think you might want more this time, and I’m twisting it all around. Reading into shit. Trying to see it the way I want it to be.”

He’s already pulling back from me, and I don’t want that. Taking his shirt in my fist, I pull him to me, so we’re nose to nose. “No,” I whisper. “You’re right. You’re not twisting anything around. I’m so fucking blown away by how right you are, I don’t even know what to say. So let’s just kiss, yeah? Isn’t that what people do on Ferris wheels?”

That gets me the real smile I love, and he dips his mouth so finally our lips meet. The entire night has been leading to this kiss, and a little sigh escapes with the sensation. Light and gentle at first, and then his tongue swipes across my lips. I open fully, our tongues dancing much like our bodies did earlier, our mouths setting a rhythm of push and pull, give and take. The Ferris wheel continues to move up and up, away from the crowd below. As we get further into the sky, Jack’s hands roam from my face, my neck, over my breasts, to my hips, and back up again. His mouth moves to my ear, and then he pulls back. “We’re at the top,” he whispers, just as the cart stops again.

I look out, and sure enough, we’ve got a full view of the festival. The stage on one side, still lit up but empty, tents and cars stretching out on the other. In front of me, the large white VIP tents fill the space before rows of tour buses.

“That where your bus is?” I point and Jack looks behind him.

“Yeah.”

I want to invite him to stay in my tent tonight, but I also want him to know that this is different. I don’t just want one night with him. He surprises me when he’s the one to make the suggestion.

“You know, that tent will be lonely all by yourself. Probably not even too safe.”

My heart races at his words as I try to play it cool. “Safe enough. Jett and Shay are right there, along with thousands of other people.”

“I think you’d be better off with me there, don’t you think?” He leans closer and his voice melts over me, sending warmth throughout my body.

“But I don’t have an extra sleeping bag for you.” My voice comes out as a whisper, and I’m not really sure why.

“We can snuggle,” he says all calm and cool, and I have the insane urge to climb up and wrap my body around him like an octopus. But then the Ferris wheel moves again, and I stay put. It’s going around full swing now, everyone loaded up, and we hold each other’s eyes for a beat before I smile, letting him know I’m down with the sleepover plans.

He pulls me to his side of the bench so we’re next to each other, looking out at the same view, and we take it all in, wordless.