by Shey Stahl
Miles grinned, mouthing, “She loves me,” and pointing to Blaine.
My focus shifted to Beau, who was now across from us, watching his sister and me.
“I’ll be back to check on you,” Blaine said after applying a bandage to my forehead. Bet I looked attractive.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Beau asked, obviously concerned for my well-being. I knew then he had the perfect voice. It was soft, but had a shiver-inducing rasp. I knew if he ever whispered in my ear, I’d have all-over tingles that shot straight to my legs, spreading them just for him.
Breathe, Bentley. Breathe, because if you don’t, he’s going to think there’s something mentally wrong with you or start CPR.
On second thought, don’t breathe. Pretend you’re dead. Mouth to mouth would be amazing.
Look at that face, those eyes! Who knew there was a shade of blue like that? So pretty.
Beau eyed me cautiously when I didn’t reply. His voice and eyes had rendered me speechless. Pathetic. “Honey…are you okay?”
Honey? He called me honey.
I sighed, my head throbbing. I would have bet a million dollars that Beau Ryland would have never looked twice at a girl like me. He was the type of guy who caused you to literally stare in fascination that God made someone so beautiful. And had I not fallen, he wouldn’t have noticed me tonight.
Maybe my incapability to stay on my own two feet was fate.
But, damn it, now he knows you’re really alive. There goes your chance at mouth to mouth.
Loser. He knows you’re alive; you’re sitting up and clearly breathing.
As he stared at me, waiting on my reply, I wondered if he thought there might be something mentally wrong with me. Surely my inability to speak was an indication I wasn’t all there.
“What?” I wanted to say more, but I was speechless at the idea of him talking to me.
“I asked if you were okay,” he repeated, his brow scrunching in concentration, at what, I had no idea. “You took a pretty good fall there.”
I fell for you. Oh God, don’t you dare say that out loud. Don’t!
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, holding a bag of ice to my tender forehead.
Watching him for a moment, I almost began drooling. In an attempt to control myself, I lowered my eyes and rested my gaze on his hands.
Sweet Jesus, he had nice hands.
Someone called his name, pulling him away without another word.
Great, there he goes. You’re chance to convince him you were meant to be together is out the window and you’re left dirty and bleeding.
“Was that for attention, or did you really trip?” Laney asked, taking a seat next to me on the ground. She smelled like vodka and dirt.
I stared down at my banged up and bruised legs and realized the dirt smell was coming from me. I was covered in it.
“Not exactly something I’d do for attention, Lane.”
She shrugged me off. “Uh, well, listen…”
I knew where this was going when Laney sat down. She wanted to go off with Gavin. “Go.” I raised my new beer. “I’m not moving from this place right here. I’ll be here waiting, so if you decide to leave, you’d better come get my ass.”
She grinned. “Did Bentley Rae just say ‘ass’?”
“Shut up.”
Giggling, she stood to brush the dust from her stonewashed jeans. “Okay, well, don’t move then.”
How was it fair I had to wear shorts and she got to wear jeans?
Laney left, and there I was, by myself next to the fire, surrounded by ten people I didn’t know. I guess I should say ten people who didn’t know me. I knew who they were. They were friends of Beau’s from high school, and they were all smiling at me.
I felt uncomfortable with their stares and would have moved, but I was afraid if I stood, I’d fall face first into the fire.
The heat from the fire felt like it was sucking the air from my lungs as it warmed my face to hotter than the night’s air. Orange flames swirled, flickering and dancing in the sky as I nursed my beer. The fire crackled and projected shadows on the house behind us.
The fire, like the party, was pulsing, glowing with embers that seemed to move with the rhythm of the music bellowing from the nearby stereo—it was all mesmerizing, or maybe I was a little concussed from my unintentional front handspring gone wrong.
A half an hour later, my beer was nearly gone and I heard his voice again.
“You know—” Beau took a seat next to me “—your landing was impressive.”
I rolled my eyes, refusing to look at him when I felt the burn of my cheeks along with every other part of my body. “I’m sure it was. It’s a good thing I landed in your lap. Or, yeah, whatever.”
Stop talking.
And then I thought about close he was sitting.
Holy shit, Beau Ryland is sitting right next to me.
If I moved two inches, our bodies would be touching.
Move.
No, you should fall. Just pretend you’re lightheaded and fall into him. Face first.
If I could have fallen sitting up, and not have looked ridiculous, I would have done it just to bury my face in his chest, or lap.
Lap?
Must be the beer.
“I’m just playin’, relax.” He nudged me with his elbow, smirking. “But hey, I’m not complaining about where you landed.”
How can I? Look at you and then look at me. Ugh!
Bringing my beer to my lips, I finished it off, feeling absolutely humiliated.
“Beau!” someone called his name again. He turned, looking over his shoulder, and I did the same.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, and then our eyes met, briefly. “I’ll be back.”
And then he was gone, again, for another twenty minutes.
When he returned, he smiled down at me, lifting his brow at my shirt, entertained. It was then I remembered what it actually said. I wanted to rip it off.
Somethin’ Bad’s About To Happen.
Something bad did happen.
I felt so embarrassed.
“Hey there, pretty girl.” I could immediately tell that in those twenty or so minutes he was gone, he had a few too many drinks. “Are you okay?”
“Really, I’m fine,” I mumbled, still not sure what to make of this. Dropping the ice bag to my lap, I stared at it, refusing to look at him.
“You look a little—” he shrugged, scratching the side of his face “—out of it.”
“Well, I did fly through the air and smack my head on the ground.” I straightened out my legs. “Damn, I’m going to have so many bruises tomorrow.”
He chuckled softly, leaning into me as he reached inside his jacket he was now wearing. “You look like you’re in pain. Here.” He flashed a bottle of whiskey at me. “Try this.”
So I did, because when Beau Ryland offered you a drink, you took that damn drink.
GASOLINE AND SMOKE filled the night, but the moon was so bright you didn’t even need a flashlight to see your way down to where the water slipped up the bank. A crowd of twenty sat around a bonfire, laughing and letting go, and I was one of them.
Breathing in deep, my heart soared. I felt like I was shaking all the way to the bone from being around Beau. With his help, I’d also finished off a bottle of whiskey.
I was drinking with Beau. Like a normal person.
Only I was low-lidded and moving slowly, every thought, every turn of my head exaggerated. I couldn’t tell you the last time I’d been drunk.
“What’s your name?” he asked in my ear, closer than ever. We were now nearly touching.
He looked at me, the blue in his eyes seemed darker and brighter. It felt like he was trying to convince me to trust him. Breathing deeply, I watched his face. The scruff of his jaw begged me to reach out and touch it. I could almost feel the shivers I knew it would cause. His eyes remained watchful, waiting for my answer.
“Bentley Rae Schow.”
Why did you say you
r whole name?
His left arm moved to wrap around my shoulders, dragging me through the dirt so our bodies touched.
Beau winked, his smile too crooked for his own good. He was slow talking, with eyes bright and his arm wrapped around me. “I’m Beau Ryland.”
What had I gotten myself into?
“I know who you are.” I couldn’t take my eyes off his, entranced that he was looking at me, touching me.
He didn’t seem surprised I knew who he was, more than likely everyone here knew him.
“Is that so?”
I nodded, the motion painful. “Uh-huh.”
“Mmmm,” he hummed, a smirk growing on his face and lighting up his eyes, as if he felt challenged and was accepting it. “Looks like I’m gonna have to work to impress you then.”
Nope. You did that years ago.
He squeezed my shoulder after taking a drink. “I think you’re in good hands tonight.”
“Yes, because we know I can’t walk,” I teased, my own smile taking over.
“All the more reason for you to stay beside me.”
Beau was interesting to me, and now more than ever because he was completely different than I assumed he’d be. The more we interacted, the more curious I became.
“You don’t have to stay with me. I know you probably have friends here.”
He looked over at me, sporting a smile that was higher on one side, but my eyes caught his, so blue, shadowed by the night. “I’d rather be here with you, pretty girl.”
PICKING UP HIS GUITAR from beside him, he swept his gaze to mine, smiling, as if to let me know he was about to show me something. The idea of seeing him sing sent me into a frivolous nervous shake. I’d never heard him play in person before.
“Should I play something for you?”
I tried to keep my voice from sounding like a four-year-old little girl who had just received her first Barbie. “Yes!” Shit, tone it down a little. “I mean…if that’s what you want to do, or, whatever.”
Beau chuckled, lightly and ran his hand over the back of his neck.
I had heard him sing on many occasions, but only online. I was a frequent visitor on YouTube after the shows, trying to decipher the shaky, screaming girl, cell phone footage.
The crowd around us was rowdy and ready for something more, begging Beau to play them something wild. Apparently, there was more rock in this boy than country, and he lived for playing tunes like “Walk This Way” or “Highway to Hell.”
“C’mon, man!” they would shout each time a new song came on the radio and he resisted. I wondered what it was he was resisting, because I really wanted to hear him sing.
He moved away from me, standing casually on the other side of the fire.
Blaine sat down next to me. It seemed I went from the hands of one Ryland to the next.
She was all touchy-feely with me and kept hugging me.
“He’s on tour, right?”
Blaine grinned. “My brother is going to be a star, just wait. He’s going to headline his own tour someday.”
I know he will.
“Hey, Legs,” someone said, handing me another beer.
Taking the cup, I recognized him as Miles, a friend of Beau’s, and smiled at him. “Hey.”
He was the same guy harassing Blaine earlier.
“How’s the head? You seem confused if you’re hanging around this guy.” He leaned forward and smacked Beau, in the chest with his palm.
Beau shook his head in amusement, catching himself so he didn’t step back in the fire.
Miles practically sat on my lap beside me on the log, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me against his side. I seemed to be the life of the party, since you know, I made such an entrance.
Miles was the same age as Beau. He was another football star who took very little in life seriously. From what I heard around school, he’d been mooching off his parents since he graduated, but occasionally painted houses with Gavin and Wade when he wasn’t touring with Beau.
Gavin and Laney returned from wherever they had been. Gavin focused on Beau, giving him a head nod. “Play something.”
Beau didn’t say yes, but he also didn’t say no.
And then our eyes drifted to one another with the flickering of the fire light. I wanted to beg him to play. I think my eyes did a little because he winked at me and set his beer down.
“So, Bentley, how into Beau are you? Do I stand a chance tonight?” Miles smiled, giving me a suggestive nod.
Blaine gagged. “She has better taste than to give you a chance, Miles.”
“Oh stop.” Miles pawed at her, like he was imitating a valley girl.
He was attractive, had a nice lean body, but he was no Beau Ryland. And I think I was taller than him, so that wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
Beau tipped his head with a deep chuckle that shook his chest. “Bentley, meet Miles Wheatley.” He rolled his eyes, focusing on Miles. “Hands off.”
Hands off? What did that mean?
Miles smiled and moved closer to me when Beau plugged in an amp beside him where his guitar was now leaning against a log, but then he stopped and faced Miles again. “Don’t even think about it, Miles,” Beau warned. “She’s with me.”
She’s with me? What did that mean?
Whistles and shouts broke out in the crowd of nearly twenty, but Beau didn’t look up.
He placed the guitar pick in his mouth and talked around it. “All right, here goes nothing,” Beau mumbled into the microphone, still not looking up.
If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought they planned this, to have Beau sing all night. Given they had equipment and everything.
I took in the sight before me—the fire and lake behind him. It was perfect, a smeared scarlet red running wild over the night.
Removing his guitar pick from his mouth, he gave a soft smile and messed with the amp and his guitar. “Here’s a little Tim McGraw for ya.”
Blaine let out a scream and then raised her drink in the air, whistling at the opening notes.
Beau began to play his guitar, eyes down and focused.
As the opening notes drifted through the air, Beau leaned into the microphone and began singing.
Everyone started dancing around, feeling the upbeat tempo.
When Beau did look up, he smiled at the enthusiasm.
Blaine had me up and dancing with her, Miles and two other guys watching us closely. I wasn’t paying them any mind. All my focus was on Beau.
As the song reached a crescendo, he leaned his head back, singing with passion, belting out the chorus with a roughness I’d never ever heard before. I stopped dancing and watched.
He was so alive right in front of me. It was clear to see there was a side to this guy I never expected. And how could that be? I had faithfully worshiped him for years and had no idea this was the way he was.
As he finished “Down On The Farm,” he went straight into the coolest version of “Baby Likes To Rock It” I have ever heard with a growling edge to his baritone voice.
I was ready to throw myself at his feet in the dirt, naked, and let him do anything he wanted to me. Not that I hadn’t been already, but now I was that girl completely. Judging by the way he regarded me, he knew it too.
My problem was, he was utterly surrounded now with women trying to get his attention. Half-naked women in their bikinis, despite the sun being set, dancing around together seductively.
When the song ended, I finished my beer and smiled up at Beau as he laughed.
I knew this moment was something I’d never forget.
“This one is mine,” he said, winking at me.
My heart fluttered, knowing he was about to sing something he wrote, words he’d poured himself into.
Come on, baby
Climb on over here
The way the night darkened everything around him but his face, made it more thrilling to hear him like this. He had a prowess and distinctive voice unlike anything I’d
ever heard. It was raw, honest, and had more range than I would have initially thought after hearing him talk. He owned that sandy resonance coupled with a masculine southern drawl.
The tune was catchy, and I was in awe at the way he’d strummed his guitar, never missing a cord. His teasing smile left me speechless. I didn’t know if I should laugh or stare at how beautiful he was.
You know I’m getting to you, girl
Just let me give you a little whirl
In the background, I heard girls giggling and sighing over the lyrics. One, who’d obviously had too much to drink, even hollered out that she’d take him up on that offer, but up until the end, his eyes never left mine.
Music filled the night, the sound rushing through me as I swayed. Some reacted to the beat, while others talked amongst themselves but felt the words Beau was singing.
Once he was finished, he set his guitar down and came right back over to me as everyone clapped.
THEY TURNED THE radio back on, another catchy tune surrounding us. It was then I took a seat on the log, feeling like I’d had too much to drink and needed to sit down.
Beau did the same. His arm around me was heavy as he scanned the crowd, slowly bringing a bottle of what looked to be bourbon to his lips.
“Are you looking for someone?”
“I’m lookin’ for your boyfriend. Surely you have one, and I just got his girl drunk, and now I have my hands on her.”
“Keep looking,” I teased. “Let me know if you see him. I hear he’s a complete asshole.”
He laughed, shaking his head, his own motions just as slow. “You seem so innocent. Have you ever been kissed?” Beau asked, his attention mostly on the fire. For a brief moment, he took in my face. I was stunned-stupid with shock that he would ask me that.
Was he trying to offend me?
“Shut up. I thought you were a gentleman.”
“Mmmm.” Oh God, make that sound again. In my ear please. “Never said that. I prey on the weak.”
I snorted.
“Are you going to answer the question?”
“Yeah.” My eyes left his for the fire, as I nearly swallowed my tongue at where the conversation had suddenly shifted. How did this happen? I tried really hard not to let him know how embarrassed I was, working to breathe calmly.