Page 55 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

My stomach did a little flip. “Bullshit.”

“Kane told me he thinks of you like a little brother,” he continued. “I thought that was cute.”

“He’s just that kind of guy,” I explained. “Kind-hearted. Likeable.”

“Oh, shit. Robbie’s over there,” Andrew said, nodding over toward a stall across the way. “I’m going to go join him and see if Jesse’s around, too. Might be back in a bit, might not.”

“Go join him,” I said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got things covered here.”

“Nice to meet you, Draven,” Andrew said before heading off into the crowd.

As I watched Andrew walk off, a wave of jealousy moved through me.

Just a year ago, I’d been a TNU student just like him, and everything had felt simple. Andrew played football, drank beers, and went to parties. My life used to be like that, too.

Easy.

Not completely confusing, like it was now.

Because the moment Draven was in my presence it was like hundreds of volts of electricity started coursing through my veins. Being alone with him made me feel like every cell in my body wason fire.

Secretly I wished I could reach out and yank Andrew right back into this tent.

Now it was just me and Draven here.

I looked down, organizing the tiny beer sample cups that I’d just poured, putting them into neat rows. Suddenly the sound of the crowd seemed deafening.

“I’m going to tell you why I’m really here,” Draven said.

I knocked one of the cups onto its side.

It had a domino effect, and a few other sample cups tipped over, each of them spilling two ounces of beer onto the table.

I pulled in a long breath. “Why do I still feel like I don’t believe you?”

He narrowed his eyes at me “Here. I’ll help.”

“I’m fine,” I said, but Draven had already come behind the tent, grabbing paper towels from the roll beside me and helping to clean up the spill. He was close by my side now, and he smelled like fresh lumber and the clean, spiced scent I was hopelessly addicted to.

And now I couldn’t stop thinking of his fucking cock.

How my hand had felt around his neck, and how much he’d liked it.

I watched his arms as he swept the paper towels over the spill, my eyes landing on his tattoos.

The rose. An abstract portrait. Patterns that worked their way up his arm.

It felt like so long ago that I’d bitten him there. How had I ever been that out of control?

“I despise keeping secrets,” Draven said. “No matter what you might think of me.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like you mind having secrets. You don’t tell me shit.”

“It’s not always a good thing toknow… certain things.”

He had a look in his eyes I’d never seen before.

Something… faraway. Like for once, he wasn’t shooting crackling lightning bolts at me with his eyes.

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