She nods, grinning as she slips her arms around my neck. “I’m very okay.”
“Later,” I promise her, voice gravel and heat. “When it’s just us. You and me, baby….”
She leans in, lips brushing mine, soft and full of trouble. “Down the rabbit hole?”
“I might tease my way in.” I murmur, mouth grazing hers, “But yeah…headfirst.”
And this time, when she laughs, it’s everything.
The night explodes with color and sounds the moment we step through the gates.
Reverb in the Pines looks like something out of a twisted fairytale tonight—blacklight tents strung up between the trees, jack-o’-lanterns glowing in neon greens and purples, fog machines hissing smoke along the ground. There’s a DJ up on a makeshift platform, blending pulsing club tracks between live sets while lasers cut through the night sky. Festival chaos meets Halloween hedonism, and God, it’s perfect.
The boys are already hyped.
Trey’s parrot squawks from his shoulder as he spins in his pirate boots, sloshing his drink. “Raawk! Who’s a good girl then?” He cackles.
Chace is flipping a coin like he’s straight out of Goodfellas, hair slicked back and looking way too pleased with himself. Sam—Vin Diesel in the flesh—grins wide as he shoulders through the crowd, soaking up every second of attention like he’d been born for it. If only he’d been the one rolling around in Braden’s car instead of me.
But it’s Mac I can’t take my eyes off.
She’s all legs and attitude in that short, frilly blue dress—her wild blonde hair tumbling down her back in loose waves, white stockings hugging her legs. Alice in Wonderland never looked so hot.
I slip my arm around her waist, pulling her close as we head toward our roped-off VIP section lit by strings of warm bulbs and tucked between two firepits. Security nods us through while cameras flash and phones lift all around. People are shouting our names, but for once, it doesn’t feel like pressure.
It feels like pride.
“I’m not cold,” Mac says before I even ask, smirking up at me like she’s read my damn mind.
“Didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
I laugh, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “You just like ruining all my good intentions.”
“I prefer perfecting them.”
God, this girl.
We don’t even make it to the VIP booth before the beat drops and Mac grabs my hand.
“Dance with me,” she says.
Not a question.
I let her pull me in.
The crowd parts around us—barely—but we don’t notice anyone else. The bass throbs through the ground as her body molds against mine, soft curves pressing into every hard inch of me, and suddenly I don’t care that we’re surrounded. Her arms wrap around my neck, her hips finding a rhythm that shoots straight through me. The music pulses, lights strobing, smoke curling around our feet, and all I can see—all I want to see—is her.
Her smile when I spin her.
The way her head tips back when she laughs.
The way she bites her lip as she drags her hands down my chest, fingers grazing the edge of that tattoo like it’s hers now.
I grip her hips, guiding her harder against me, and her breath catches as I drop my mouth to her ear.
“You’re killing me, baby.”
