Page 64 of Tangled Up In You

“You’re in luck. The last two. Because they’re VIP, they’ll get you side-stage access to most of the shows, a discount on food”—she leaned in—“and access to air-conditioned porta potties.”

“Doesn’t get much fancier than that,” Fitz said.

The clerk slid the tickets and a flyer across the counter. “Welcome to Nashville. Have fun, and enjoy your stay.”

Fresh from a shower, Fitz buttoned up his jeans. Ren had wanted them to dress up a little for the festival and had dragged him to a thrift store a few blocks from the hotel. The jeans were a clean pair of Levi’s he’d brought with him, but the shirt currently folded on the bathroom counter was new. Well, new to him, at least, and a fancier brand even than the interview suit he’d splurged on two weeks ago in Spokane. In fact, when Ren handed him the shirt over the dressing room door, he’d recognized the designer as one he’d find in his father’s closet.

God, his father. Fitz hadn’t thought of him all day. Or Mary—who was only a twenty-minute drive from where they were staying. His twin motivations in life: revenge and restitution. In the past seven years, had he ever gone longer than an hour without thinking of one of them?

It was all because of Ren. Thinking about her was so much better than anything else.

Fitz imagined telling Mary about how things had changed with his road trip tagalong and felt the warm glow of embers behind his breastbone. But the sensation cooled as he thought about everything he still needed to tell Ren.

He’d never kept secrets from Mary, and he’d never felt bad about keeping secrets from anyone else. But Ren was different; everything was different now. And as he met his own gaze in the still-foggy mirror, he made a silent vow to talk to her as soon as she was finished dressing in the other room. No more chickening out, no more lies. No more pretending.

There was a knock on the door, and when he opened it and saw her standing on the other side, every thought melted from his brain. Her hair was braided in a delicate crown atop her head, with a few silk flowers tucked between the plaited strands; beneath it, her skin seemed to glow. Her sundress was lavender with thin straps and a soft, sloping neckline. The fabric looked delicate and breezy and fell just to the tops of her knees. She wouldn’t let him see it at the store and told him only that it was simple, and it was, but simple was a lie. The dress was made for her. For a few painful seconds, he forgot how to breathe.

“I worried you got sucked down the drain you were taking so long,” she said.

He tugged her inside with him, and she let out a little squeak as he closed them into the steamy space.

“You’re supposed to put on that shirt.” Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, very pointedly not on his bare torso.

He pulled her closer, drawing her hands up to rest on his chest. Touch me, his mind screamed.

“What are we doing in here?” she whispered with a smile, looking to her fingertips as they traced the line of his collarbone. She was getting the flush he’d seen a couple times now, whenever her thoughts seemed to drift to everything they could do when they were this close.

“Well, I did want to kiss you,” he whispered back, bending just shy of resting his lips on hers. “But also, I had something very important to say.”

She blinked up, meeting his gaze. “What’s that?”

“That you look amazing. Nobody’s even going to notice the fireworks tonight with you there.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, and he reached up, freeing it with his thumb, staring. She kissed it and then pulled away, smoothing the front of her dress. “You really like it?”

He pretended to consider her, but in reality, he was afraid of the sound that would come out if he opened his mouth. He was sure he’d never seen anyone so beautiful before. “It’s not an oversize T-shirt and cutoff shorts, but it’s pretty good.”

She grinned and turned toward the mirror. He reluctantly let her go, watching as she examined her reflection. He liked the way they looked together. “My shorts would at least have somewhere to put my room key.”

“I’ll carry the key.” He came up behind her, bending to kiss the nape of her neck.

She put her hands over her mouth to hide her smile. “I’ve never worn anything this pretty before.” Turning away from the mirror, she sent her arms around his waist. “Thank you for doing this with me. And for letting me come along on your road trip.”

“I didn’t let you,” he reminded her, kissing the crown of her head. “You forced me.”

She rested her cheek against his bare chest. “This has been the best week of my entire life.”

For a moment he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. Something inside him wanted to shy away from the weight of her confession, from the tender clench of his heart that felt a little like an exposed nerve. Being soft and open with people had never given him anything good. But with a deep breath he pushed all that down and leaned in to hug her back.

If Ren had had access to Google her entire life, she’d probably be president by now. By the time they made their way to Public Square Park, where the festival was being held, she’d already learned the names and significance of the surrounding buildings, what bands were performing on which stage and when, located the food booths she wanted to visit, and read enough reviews of last year’s festival to know where each and every portable toilet could be found.

Thank God she used her powers for good.

Nashville reminded Fitz of Vegas, with less neon and a lot more cowboy hats. The sidewalks were packed, the streets blocked off now as the sun began to set, and the sound of tuning guitars could be heard through the cacophony of crowd noise.

They exchanged their tickets for VIP lanyards and a stack of free food and drink coupons, which they used right away at a food truck called Fire-N-Smoke. When they were done eating, Ren tugged him toward the main stage, where a band he’d actually heard of was in the middle of a song that had been on every playlist already that year. And yet he barely noticed any of it, his thoughts full only of Ren dancing and jumping and singing along to the handful of words she’d managed to pick up in the chorus.

When the set ended, they wandered around the festival. It was fully dark now, and strings of glowing Edison bulbs shone overhead, illuminating the crowded park. Fitz held her hand as they wound their way from one vendor booth to the next and she told him about the fairs back home, and how she’d wanted to stay late and join in the festivities, but they always packed up as soon as they were done. Fitz promised himself then and there that he would stay as late as she wanted.