Until he wasn’t.
It didn’t take more than a minute for our kiss to turn hot and needy. An ache burned inside me that had me arching toward Ben, eager to get whatever I could from him. It’d been so long since I’d lost myself. Since I didn’t worry about anything except for what was happening in the moment.
And this was quickly becoming the best moment of my life so far.
Ben really knew what he was doing with those lips of his. And when his tongue joined the party, I lost all ability to even think let alone process my surroundings.
It took at least a minute or two for me to realize the hooting and shouting I heard wasn’t because of Alex Graham.
“Yeah, get it, man!”
“She’s so fucking primed!”
“Holy shit! Is that Reuben Bello?”
“Lucky bastard.”
Ben pulled away with a curse. Then his arms came around my shoulders, and Roscoe was there, ushering us away from the cheering beach crowd.
And for the umpteenth time, Roscoe bitched. “…wouldn’t have happened in VIP.”
I rolled my eyes, and our pace eased as we left most of the crowd behind us. Craning my neck, I looked over the people around us. “Did someone say Reuben Bello was here?”
Ben paused, then gave me a weird look. “I didn’t think you were a fan. Didn’t you say something about hating rap?”
“I wouldn’t use the wordhate. I just like…less angry music. But still, it would be cool to see him. Is he performing this weekend?”
Roscoe coughed and turned away. Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure,” Ben finally said.
“Huh, you’re not a fan either, I take it?”
Roscoe coughed again, only louder this time.
I sent him a concerned look. “Do you need something to drink? I think there’s a water station over there.”
Roscoe waved a hand.
“How about we escape somewhere a little more private?” Ben suggested, after turning away from Roscoe’s third coughing fit. “I have a buddy with a trailer set up nearby. He won’t be here until tomorrow, so he won’t mind if we borrow it. And it’s nowhere near the VIP area.”
Roscoe coughed some more.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked again.
Ben walked over to thump Roscoe on the back a few times—not gently. Then after a whispered conversation, Ben returned to me. “He’s fine. So, trailer?”
“Sure.” I didn’t even have to think about it. And judging by Ben’s sparkling eyes, he was happy with my agreement.
He grabbed my hand, and we made our way through the streaming throngs of people.
“So is your friend camping out here tomorrow?” I asked as the crowd thinned, and we approached an area full of equipment and metal fencing. Not the campground area I’d assumed we’d been heading toward.
“Not exactly,” Ben muttered.
We waited for Roscoe to have a conversation with the security guards at the gate. Their eyes flicked to Ben then to me then back to Ben. Both guys’ eyes widened. But they kept their stoic expressions as they opened the gate for us. I guess they knew who the agents and producers were. Or they’d been impressed by whatever Roscoe had told them.
Now I really felt bad that I hadn’t recognized Ben. Apparently he was a big name.
Ben’s arm came around me as we passed through the gate, and Ben exchanged fist-bumps with the guards with his free hand. It was all kinda bizarre.
