Page 94 of Brutal Reign
I’ll admit, the black plaid schoolgirl skirt I’m wearing is criminally short. I had to raid Avery’s closet once I found out about the concert, and this was the closest thing I could find to fit the aesthetic of this band’s vibe. A white tank top and black boots complete the look, and even before the unsolicited commentary from the guys, I already felt hot as fuck in this outfit. Now, my confidence has cranked up to a hundred.
Ace turns the key in the ignition and fires up the Corvette’s engine, a shiver of excitement running through me at the smooth purr of the machinery.
“What do we have for tunes?” I ask, gripping onto the backs of the seats and poking my head between them again to scope out the dashboard. “Whoa, did you upgrade the stereo?”
“Of course I did,” Ace replies smugly, reaching down to press a button on it. “Connect your phone to the Bluetooth, babygirl. You can be our DJ.”
If I wasn’t in such a tight space right now, I’d be kicking my feet with glee. As it is, though, I just wiggle with enthusiasm as I reach into my bra and pull out my phone, working to connect it and cue up a song while Ace pulls out of the lot and hits the road.
Of course, I pick an Audio Whiplash song. Ace cranks the volume as it starts to play through the car’s speakers, and I relax back against the seat, shifting around to get comfortable in thecramped space. Humming along to the familiar tune, I suddenly realize that Seb’s quietly singing along.
“You know this song?” I blurt.
He turns his head to peer back at me, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “Well yeah, I listened since I knew we were coming to the show.”
“Mhmm,” I tease, a grin stretching my lips. Glancing over at Ace, I find him mouthing along to the chorus and my grin widens, warmth blooming in my chest.
“Which song’s your favorite?” I ask as I turn back toward Seb, arching a brow in challenge. The current song is Audio Whiplash’s most popular, but the real question is how far into their catalog he actually dove.
I don’t even need to test Ace. Knowing him, I’ll bet he checked out their complete discography weeks ago, after I first mentioned the band to him.
“Ruination,” Seb answers, and my brows lift in surprise.He did a deeper dive than I thought.
I nod, leaning back with my phone in hand and queueing that song up to play next.
Between the music and the conversation, it feels like the drive flies by. We reminisce about the trouble we used to get in when we were young, like the time Seb’s parents caught us trying to steal their car. We thought we were so clever with our schemes, but we got caught more often than not. Guess that’s what you get when your parents got in their fair share of trouble when they were young, too.
We blaze a couple of joints once we enter Boulder’s city limits, and by the time we enter the downtown parking structure, I’m feeling the effects. A warm buzz has settled in my veins, my muscles relaxed and my eyes half-lidded. I’m also still giddy as hell, giggling as I swipe some chapstick over my lips and stumble out of the car, Seb grabbing onto my arm to steady me.
“You good?” he asks, brows drawing together as his dark-eyed stare pulls me in like a magnet.
“Uh huh,” I breathe, another giggle slipping free. “Never better. Hope you’re ready to dance!”
“I don’t dance,” he mutters.
“Aw, you sure about that?” I tease, grinning widely as I reach up to cup his rugged jaw. “What if I dare you?”
“I’ll dance with you, babygirl,” Ace drawls smoothly, coming up behind me and banding an arm around my waist.
I lean back against his firm chest, lifting my chin to gaze up at him. “Promise?”
His ocean eyes crinkle at the corners with his smile. “You bet,” he winks.
“Leave it to my best friend to make me look bad,” Seb mutters, grabbing for my hand and yanking me away from Ace.
I crash into his chest with a giggle, swatting him away. “Hey, you’re doing that all on your own,” I tease. “But I’ll let you make it up to me when we dance.”
He grumbles under his breath, shifting me to his side and slinging an arm over my shoulders to guide me away from the car.
The three of us walk the block to the venue– a popular downtown bar right in the heart of Boulder– where Ace presents our tickets to the burly guy working the door. He scans them and waves us inside, the guys sticking close to me as we enter the dimly-lit interior.
This place isn’t very big, which accounts for how quickly the show sold out. A stage is erected in the back of the room, and a thick crowd has already gathered to claim spots in front of it since the concert is standing room only. Seb leads the way as we thread through the throngs of people, guiding us over to the opposite side of the room where it’s a little less packed.
“We need to grab some drinks,” he mutters as he locates an empty high-top table, leaning an elbow against the surface to stake his claim.
“Tell me one of you have a plan for that?” I ask, swiveling my gaze between the guys.
Within the six-pack territory, the bars will serve anyone over the age of eighteen since alcohol doesn’t affect shifters the same way it does humans. Out here in the real world, though, actual laws apply, and none of us are twenty-one.