breath. They reached the edge of the arena after a few hard-fought minutes and escaped out to the breezeway.
People milled around them, and the harsh fluorescents blinded Hunter as they strode past the food pagodas and merch tables. Cash registers chimed, girls chattered in lines for the bathrooms, hot dogs rolled on the endless warmers. Hunter blinked, trying to get his bearings. How could the mundane world still be going on around them when everything had felt like it’d shifted inside that arena? He tried to find his voice. “Where are we going?”
“Not here,” Dev said, his steps almost stomps as he moved forward.
Hunter didn’t know what else to do but follow. And soon, Dev grabbed the arm of Hunter’s shirt and dragged him toward an alcove where the crowd noise lowered to a cacophonous hum.
Devon turned around and held his arms out. “What the
ever-loving fuck
was that?”
Now that they were in the unforgiving lights and not in the dark crowd, panic was inching in on Hunter, heat burning his cheeks. He’d kissed Devon. Practically mauled him. He’d gotten hard.
God
. “I—I don’t know. Improvising?”
Devon looked at him like he’d announced he was an alien. “Are you freaking kidding me, Hunt? How drunk are you?”
“What? I don’t know. How drunk are
you
?”
“Jesus Christ.” Devon dragged his hand over his face. “You can’t just—
fuck
.”
“I’m sorry. I . . . things got away from me. I wasn’t thinking.”
Devon looked to the tall arching ceiling of the arena like he was beseeching the heavens to save him from his imbecile roommate, and he let out a frustrated breath. “Got away from you? You think? Goddammit, Hunt. With your size, you’d think you could handle your alcohol. You’re a fucking lightweight. That’s what happened.”
Hunter’s jaw tightened. He knew he wasn’t all that drunk. Buzzed, maybe, but give him a straight line and he could walk it. He sure as hell wasn’t going to share that tidbit, though. He wasn’t drunk, but he’d definitely been out of his mind to make out with his best friend. “You didn’t exactly stop things, you know. I’m not the only one who’s trashed.”
Devon grimaced. “Freaking cheap tequila. I’m never drinking that shit again.”
Well, that answered that question. Devon looked disgusted. Kissing Hunter had disgusted him. Hunter cleared his throat and shifted his weight, discomfort rolling in like high tide. “Look, whatever. We’re drunk. I’m sorry. That girl was annoying the shit out of me, and I took the show too far.”
The last song ended and cheers erupted around from the arena. Devon glanced in the direction of the sound and rubbed the spot between his brows, resignation in his expression. “Come on, we’ll deal with this later. We need to get backstage before the rush.”
Hunter didn’t move. “I don’t need to go back with you. I can grab something to eat, and you can spend time with your sister.”
Dev pinned him with a look. “No, you’re coming. She wants to meet you, and I’m not leaving you out here to freak out over what just happened when you sober up. You can get some food backstage.”
Hunter shoved his hands in his pockets and followed, but wished he could walk right out the door. He was such an idiot. What the hell had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been. That was the only explanation.
The scene backstage was chaotic and overwhelming. People everywhere, voices shouting, no clear path to where they were supposed to go. Devon stopped and asked a guy with a headset something and flashed him the VIP passes. After that, they were ushered into a separate room down a hallway by a chatty woman with pigtails and rainbow socks.
The room they entered was smaller and much quieter. Only a few people were inside, and when Devon’s sister saw who had arrived, her face lit up and she shooed everyone else out. The door had barely clicked shut behind them before Oakley tackled Devon with a bear
People milled around them, and the harsh fluorescents blinded Hunter as they strode past the food pagodas and merch tables. Cash registers chimed, girls chattered in lines for the bathrooms, hot dogs rolled on the endless warmers. Hunter blinked, trying to get his bearings. How could the mundane world still be going on around them when everything had felt like it’d shifted inside that arena? He tried to find his voice. “Where are we going?”
“Not here,” Dev said, his steps almost stomps as he moved forward.
Hunter didn’t know what else to do but follow. And soon, Dev grabbed the arm of Hunter’s shirt and dragged him toward an alcove where the crowd noise lowered to a cacophonous hum.
Devon turned around and held his arms out. “What the
ever-loving fuck
was that?”
Now that they were in the unforgiving lights and not in the dark crowd, panic was inching in on Hunter, heat burning his cheeks. He’d kissed Devon. Practically mauled him. He’d gotten hard.
God
. “I—I don’t know. Improvising?”
Devon looked at him like he’d announced he was an alien. “Are you freaking kidding me, Hunt? How drunk are you?”
“What? I don’t know. How drunk are
you
?”
“Jesus Christ.” Devon dragged his hand over his face. “You can’t just—
fuck
.”
“I’m sorry. I . . . things got away from me. I wasn’t thinking.”
Devon looked to the tall arching ceiling of the arena like he was beseeching the heavens to save him from his imbecile roommate, and he let out a frustrated breath. “Got away from you? You think? Goddammit, Hunt. With your size, you’d think you could handle your alcohol. You’re a fucking lightweight. That’s what happened.”
Hunter’s jaw tightened. He knew he wasn’t all that drunk. Buzzed, maybe, but give him a straight line and he could walk it. He sure as hell wasn’t going to share that tidbit, though. He wasn’t drunk, but he’d definitely been out of his mind to make out with his best friend. “You didn’t exactly stop things, you know. I’m not the only one who’s trashed.”
Devon grimaced. “Freaking cheap tequila. I’m never drinking that shit again.”
Well, that answered that question. Devon looked disgusted. Kissing Hunter had disgusted him. Hunter cleared his throat and shifted his weight, discomfort rolling in like high tide. “Look, whatever. We’re drunk. I’m sorry. That girl was annoying the shit out of me, and I took the show too far.”
The last song ended and cheers erupted around from the arena. Devon glanced in the direction of the sound and rubbed the spot between his brows, resignation in his expression. “Come on, we’ll deal with this later. We need to get backstage before the rush.”
Hunter didn’t move. “I don’t need to go back with you. I can grab something to eat, and you can spend time with your sister.”
Dev pinned him with a look. “No, you’re coming. She wants to meet you, and I’m not leaving you out here to freak out over what just happened when you sober up. You can get some food backstage.”
Hunter shoved his hands in his pockets and followed, but wished he could walk right out the door. He was such an idiot. What the hell had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been. That was the only explanation.
The scene backstage was chaotic and overwhelming. People everywhere, voices shouting, no clear path to where they were supposed to go. Devon stopped and asked a guy with a headset something and flashed him the VIP passes. After that, they were ushered into a separate room down a hallway by a chatty woman with pigtails and rainbow socks.
The room they entered was smaller and much quieter. Only a few people were inside, and when Devon’s sister saw who had arrived, her face lit up and she shooed everyone else out. The door had barely clicked shut behind them before Oakley tackled Devon with a bear
Similar Books
