“You’re stupid and dangerous.”
Her face screws into a scowl. Bet no one’s insulted her to her face in a while.
“I don’t give a fuck who you are.” I yank her arm, gaining her full attention. “If you ever harm Shelby again, in any way, I will come for you. All the security in the world won’t matter. I’ll hunt you down and rip out your fucking throat. End you like the rabid she-wolf you are.” I give her a shake. “You hear me?”
“I hear you,” she whispers.
“Good.” I release her. “Stay the fuck away from Shelby.”
“I promise.”
“Not you again,” Shelby drawls behind us. “Shouldn’t you be raiding a chicken coop or somethin’?”
I snort and wrap my arm around Shelby’s waist, pulling her to my side. Shelby slides her arm under my jacket around my back, and rests her other hand on my chest.
“Hey, baby,” she says, planting a kiss on my cheek.
Glenna’s gone absolutely still.
Funny, I thought she would’ve run away screaming by now.
Shelby continues glaring at Glenna. “Why are you standing there with your mouth hangin’ open like a dead trout?”
Glenna snaps her mouth shut. She rubs her hand over her arm where I’d grabbed her. “I know you don’t believe me, but I am sorry, Shelby.”
“Fine. Okay,” Shelby huffs, her body trembling with anger and frustration. “What do you want from me? Forgiveness? I don’t have any to give yet.”
“I understand.” Glenna’s gaze drops to the floor. It’s hard to tell if she’s putting on an act or she’s genuinely contrite. I honestly don’t care either way. “Good luck tonight,” she says.
Before Shelby has a chance to respond, Glenna spins on her heel and melts into the crowd, shoulders and head down. Less uppity than when she arrived.
“Good riddance,” Shelby mutters, watching her leave.
“How’d it go?” I ask, squeezing her hip.
Slowly, Shelby turns my way. Fury still burns in her eyes. “Fine until I saw her talking to you. Never wanted to set someone on fire with the power of my mind so bad in my life. What’d she say to you?”
“Nothing useful.” I tug her closer until she’s standing in front of me and cage her in between my knees, then drape my arms around her waist. “Put her out of your head. Tonight’s about you.”
With my big hands resting over her butt, I’m able to brush my thumbs over her bare back. She shivers and drops her gaze.
“Stop,” she whispers.
“Stop what?”
“Touching me there when you’re staring at me with those savage eyes.”
I lean in closer, brushing my lips against her jaw. “Savage. How so?”
“Like you want to find a dark corner and do dirty things to me.”
“I need more than a dark corner to do what I want to do to you.”
She shudders. “I hope you’re happy. My panties are soaked now.”
It requires monumental effort on my part not to slide my hand through one of the slits in her dress to confirm. I kiss her forehead. “As soon as we’re alone, I plan to verify that.”
She laughs softly.
The lights blink.
Dawson and Angelina join us. “Time to find our table,” Dawson says. He slides his gaze between Shelby and me. “Everything all right here?”
“Glenna stopped by to spread her cheer,” Shelby says.
He growls and turns to search the area. No sign of her though.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s go.”
Dawson leads the way, while Angelina hangs back with us, talking to Shelby. Our seats are in the front row, thank fuck. I wasn’t looking forward to having my knees up around my ears for the next however many hours.
Maybe the placement is a sign Shelby won her categories?
Shelby
Is it possible to sweat to death?
My cheeks feel as if I’ve stood too close to a bonfire for the better part of the night. Anger from running into Glenna still has me mad enough to spit nails.
The show starts and I force Glenna from my mind. I’ve looked forward to being here my whole life. The front row of the most prestigious awards show to honor the music I’m so passionate about. Wearing a beautiful dress. Holding the hand of the man I love.
Somehow, I’ve reached a pinch-myself-to-see-if-I’m-dreaming level of success at twenty-two.
“You okay?” Rooster asks.
I fan my hand in front of my face. “Hot. Overwhelmed.”
“Let me get you some water.”
“I don’t want to have to pee in this dress.”
He bites his lip, trying not to laugh. “I guarantee it’ll be worse if you get up on that stage and pass out from dehydration.”
“I’ll probably pee myself when I hit the floor.”
He doesn’t have to go far. Servers are circulating with small bottles of water. I sip it gratefully.
They start with the Music Video of the Year category. Since I’m not in that one, I sit back, relax, and try not to roll my eyes at all the “look how down home we are riding ATVs through the woods” videos nominated this year.