Page 42

The emcee—Lady Peaches Aplenty—dives into an opening monologue that has Addy nearly peeing her pants in laughter, Boss holding the weight of her in his arms so she doesn’t fall over, before Williams finally saunters onto the stage, first in line after being introduced by the emcee, loudly and proudly, as“Lina Scrimmage!”
The guys around us erupt in an explosion of excitement, cheering and hollering and hooting their asses off, nothing but wide smiles adorning each of their faces.
Addy and I join in, chanting his name as loudly as we can. My grin stretches so wide it feels like it could split my face in two.
Williams looks absolutely amazing out there. Smiling face full of vibrant makeup, dark skin shimmering with miles of sparkling glitter, and tall feathers splayed out behind the crown of his headdress. This isn’t exactly what I expected—not from a quiet, almost reserved Williams—but I feel like I know him a bit better now. Like I know the rest of these guys better now for being here, too.
We spend the next half-hour watching the show, Addy tossing more drinks back, and me, still refusing, but before too long, the room starts to grow smaller around me, the air growing thinner, and a spark of panic ignites inside me that I can’t snuff out. I need some space… some air… some…something.
Jude—thank God—somehow senses it, offering me his hand, palm up, at the balcony ledge. His brows lift a fraction in question, and I have to swallow past the lump that forms in my throat.
I don’t know how he can read me so well, I’m just thankful he can.
I slip my hand into his and give it an intentional squeeze.
The corners of his lips tug into a small, reassuring grin, and then he grasps my hand tighter and guides me through the dense crowd of people on the balcony, leading me downstairs and outside, all the while, keeping my hand firmly in his to help keep me steady.
Humid, warm air greets my face as we hit the back doors, and I can finally take a full breath.
Leaning back against the brick wall, my hand slipping from Jude’s, I let my eyes drift closed. I breathe, and I breathe, andI breathe,letting each exhale pull me closer to the ground.
Breaths in, and out.
And in, and out.
And in.
And out.
“You feeling any better?” Jude’s soft, gritty tone reaches my ears a short while later.
I open my eyes to find his laser-focused on me. Intense. Penetrating. Concerned.
“Yeah. Much better,” I say, and his entire form visibly relaxes with his next breath.
And it’s sweet, how much he cares.
Foreign, how much he cares.
A little confusing, maybe.
But maybe I’m wrong,I wonder, musingly, but it’s written there in the lines of his features, in the hint of shadows roving across his gaze. Unmistakable concern, followed by a dozen other questions I don’t have the answers to, but for the first time in my life, feel like I might want to start digging for. At least scratch at the surface and take a peek at what lies below.
The thought makes my heart race.
But when my stare returns to Jude’s yet again, my thoughts settle. Like feathers drifting to the floor, they land softly in my mind, and my heart finds its steady tempo.
I don’t understand how he does that.
Quiets everything.
And because Idon’tunderstand it, maybe, or because of the simple fact that he does manage to silence every thought, every moment, every worry—I step forward, with every intention to wrap my arms around him and bury myself in his chest.
It’s probably a terrible idea, and possibly stepping over at least a dozen of his boundaries, but I move forward without another thought, wrapping my arms tightly around his body and just…hug him.Pressing my forehead into his chest, inhaling a deep breath.
Thunderstorms.He definitely smells like thunderstorms.
And a clean, woodsy, spice-scented soap.