Sunkissed, Kasie West [best authors to read TXT] 📗

“Good luck,” Brooks said.

“You too,” the guy said before he turned back around and started talking to his bandmates.

It seemed like it took forever before it was our turn. The spotlights had been turned off and the house lights turned on, so now I could clearly make out the five judges in the audience. Two women, probably in their late twenties or early thirties, and three men, at least that age but most likely older. They didn’t look like they’d just discovered the next big music sensation. They looked like they were ready to go home, have a drink, and go to bed.

It surprised me when Brooks reached over and grabbed my hand. He held on to it tight as we stood there with the other nine bands. I squeezed his hand without looking over at him.

“If we call your name, please step forward,” the dark-haired judge in the middle said. Then he started listing off names. Each name called added a new wave of tension across my shoulders.

Brooks’s grip on my hand became so tight it almost hurt. When the sixth name was announced and we weren’t one of them, he dropped my hand. I almost reached back out and grabbed it again when I realized what this must mean. I’d failed us. I was too awkward and inexperienced and not even close to a rock star.

“Front row,” the man said. “I’m sorry. You haven’t been chosen this year. Back row, report to the fairgrounds on August first at noon. Congratulations.”

There was a mixture of shouts of joy and moans of disappointment. I just stood there in shock, not quite understanding what just happened, until Brooks wrapped me up in a hug. “Avery! We did it!” he said against my neck. “We did it!”

I let out a happy squeal and wrapped my arms around him. He spun me around once, then set me down. His smile was bigger than I’d ever seen it.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said.

“Me too!” I said, because I really was. This made him laugh. If joy could be bottled, he would be producing an unlimited supply. I looked around and realized we were the last people on the stage. Everyone else had taken their celebrations or disappointments back out into the side room, leaving a quiet hush.

Brooks gathered up his guitar case from where he’d left it by the back wall and I walked over to the microphone that was still set up. Now that I could actually see the seats instead of just the spotlights, I pretended they were full. I looked over the crowd. I may have sung to five very important people today, but could I sing to hundreds…maybe thousands? A calming energy flowed through me and I smiled.

“The chemistry between you and your boyfriend was off the charts,” a voice below me said.

I jumped, then looked down to see one of the judges collecting papers off the end of the stage.

“Thank you…I mean…he’s not my boyfriend.” I looked over my shoulder to have a laugh with Brooks about the comment but he was gone.

“Well, whatever it was,” the judge said, “keep that up for the performance. It was electrifying to watch.”

“Thank you.” I gave a nod and backed away slowly, not wanting to trip over my too-big boots. She picked up the rest of the papers and walked up one of the aisles.

I turned and left as fast as I could manage out the door, where I found Brooks scanning the crowd of people.

“There you are,” he said.

I squatted down and unlaced the boots, sliding my feet free of them. “You know what I forgot?”

“What?”

“Makeup wipes. My parents can’t see me like this. You think we can stop at a grocery store on the way home?”

“No problem.”

“With your money?” I added, realizing I hadn’t brought any cash. “I can pay you back.”

“Considering the favor you just did for me, I’m pretty sure I owe you at least one makeup wipe.”

I nudged his shoulder with mine. “So generous.”

We exited the theater to the parking lot, where everyone was piling into cars. He stepped off the curb in front of me and then cut me off, offering his back. “Want a ride, shoeless?”

I didn’t need a ride. I could’ve just put on my other shoes, the ones now in my backpack, but remembering how good he’d smelled earlier when we hugged, I wasn’t about to turn him down. “Sure.”

“Okay, here, hold my guitar case in one hand and your boots in the other. Will that work?”

“I think so.” I transferred the boots I had been holding in two hands to one and then took his guitar case in the other.

He held his arms to the sides and squatted a little as if bracing himself for some strongman competition.

“You’re not about to drag an airplane,” I said.

“Jump already.”

And so I did. It was a bit awkward trying to position the things in my hands just right over his shoulders, but when he gripped my thighs and hiked me up, my cheek settling against his, I decided that this was the right choice.

Because I knew he couldn’t see me, I closed my eyes and breathed him in.

We pulled into the parking lot of a CVS and he turned off the ignition. “I’ll just run in,” he said, nodding toward my still-bare feet.

I’d deposited all my stuff in the trunk, so I said, “Thank you.”

“Is there a certain brand you like?”

“Neutrogena. It will be a blue package in the face care section.”

“A blue package? I think my mom might have those ones. Give me your phone number and I’ll text you a pic when I find them.”

I gave him my phone number and he entered it into his phone.

“I’ll be fast.”

It was seven o’clock. It would take an hour to get back to the camp. My parents’ spa day ended at eight. I’d barely make it.

Now that my brain wasn’t completely consumed with nerves,