The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood 1)

I heard one of his friends make a sound that was half-gasp, half-laugh, but I didn’t take my attention off the guy peering down at me. He wasn’t hiding his displeasure at being called out in front of his crew, and my stomach tangled into a knot. He looked pissed, and . . . shit, had I just poked a bear?

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” a familiar voice said.

Relief swept through me as my gaze landed on Greg. He looked amazing in jeans and a black button-down shirt that fit him perfectly. But his attention wasn’t on me. His intense, severe expression was directed at the guy in my face. The guy glanced at Greg, then back at me, and threw his hands up in the air as he moved backward.

“No, I was just trying to pay her a compliment. Tell your daughter to chill out, bro.”

I cringed, but Greg didn’t miss a beat.

“She’s not my daughter, bro.” His tone was dark. “You heard her. Get lost.”

The guy scanned Greg with a skeptical look, then shook his head and gestured for his friends to follow him as he moved off. “Whatever.”

As soon as the threat was gone, it flipped a switch in my body. I was supposed to be annoyed with Greg for making me wait, but the feeling had evaporated, and now I was just overwhelmingly happy to see him. His concerned eyes landed on mine. “You okay?”

I shrugged one shoulder, pretending it was no big deal, even though my heart was still pounding. “I’m fine.”

His expression was fixed. “That was impressive.”

“What?”

He shifted toward me, placing a hand on the small of my back and drawing me near. The warmth of his touch made the space between us feel intimate. Like it was just the two of us in the evening shadows.

His gaze captured me and refused to let go. “What you said to him. How you put that jerk in his place.”

I couldn’t think straight when he was this close and I could breathe in his cologne. “I’m not an object,” I said and made a face. “I mean, I’m not going to be treated like one anymore.”

The statement hung for a moment. He knew who I was talking about and nodded slowly in understanding. “Is it okay if I tell you that you look amazing, though? Because you do.”

I softened. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” His posture relaxed, and he motioned toward the entrance. “Ready?”

EIGHTEEN

THERE WEREN’T WORDS TO DESCRIBE how awesome Joven was live, but getting to see them with Greg beside me? That was magical.

During the slow acoustic part of their set, when the stage lighting was subdued, everyone turned on their flashlight apps on their phones and swayed to the rhythm. Like lighters, but it bathed the arena in silvery light. It was intimate and beautiful, and I snuck a glance at Greg.

The sharp lines of his face were exaggerated with shadows, but he was perfect like that, all handsome and carefree. We had to look like the strangest couple ever under the artificial haze, but I didn’t feel strange beside him.

It just felt right.

And then Joven neared the end of the concert, and I loved how the bass reverberated through my body. I moved with the crowd as the music built. Hands were thrown in the air as people joined in, the music working everyone into a frenzy, especially the floor section where we stood. Even Greg was swept up in the energy.

As the band hit the climax, gold confetti burst from cannons, filling the air, and the crowd roared their approval. I screamed against the impossibly loud sound, grinning madly as I watched the confetti slowly flutter down, catching glints of light as it fell. My gaze snagged Greg’s, and I found him wearing the same wide smile I had.

It was a perfect moment—one I knew I’d remember forever, no matter what happened to us. The way he looked back at me, it seemed as if he was thinking the same thing. It made my heart clog into my throat.

I didn’t hear the crowd as they thundered and cried out at the end of the song. Everything faded from my ears as he set a hand on my cheek, tilted my head toward him, and sealed his mouth over mine.

No one would notice us in a sea of eighteen thousand people, especially when the strips of gold were still raining down, landing on our heads and shoulders. So, the kiss he gave me was safe, but—oh, it wasn’t. His seductive, passionate kiss was incredibly dangerous. It left me feeling adrift and like he was the only thing I could cling to.

I told him I wasn’t going to be anyone’s possession, but maybe I’d been wrong. Because this kiss? It owned me.