Reagan said, peeking back at her and talking too loud, “I can’t believe you’ve never taken me to one of these. This is awesome!”
Oakley pointed to her ears. “You still have your earplugs in, baby. You’re talking loud.”
“What?”
She waved her hand. “Never mind.”
Reagan gave her a toothy grin and turned back toward the stage.
“She really loves this stuff. It’s like she’s on some music high,” Devon said from beside her. “You used to be like that. Remember when you had that complete breakdown after Mom found your Alanis Morissette CD and confiscated it? It was like you’d lost your religion.”
Oakley tucked her hands in her back pockets and smirked at her older brother. “And she made me go to church every day for two weeks to pray for forgiveness. I didn’t really know what most of those songs were talking about at the time, but I felt them in my bones. I knew I needed to write music like that.”
“You were an angst factory for sure. I think Mom still blames Alanis for your defection from the righteous path.”
“Yeah?” She bumped his shoulder. “And what does she blame your defection on?”
“Group showers at church camp? George Michael?”
She rolled her eyes. “Right.”
Devon shrugged, his blue eyes shifting toward the stage. “Nah, she only blames me. And maybe Jake Walton, the neighbor she caught me making out with behind the cow pasture when I was sixteen.”
“God, I had such a crush on him. He had these lips …”
Devon smiled broadly, adjusting his baseball cap over his dark hair. “Yes, he did.”
“It’s not nice to gloat. And good thing Hunter isn’t here. You look a little too wistful about young Jake Walton.”
“Nah, Hunter wins on every level. But you never forget that first one, that first time.”
Oakley went cold at the words and wrapped her arms around herself. Not everyone remembered their first relationship so fondly. “Yeah.”
Devon made a sound under his breath. “Damn, sis, I’m sorry. I didn’t think …”
She put her finger to her lips and shook her head, reminding him that Reagan was only a few feet away. “It’s fine.”
Devon was one of the few who knew the whole story. The ugly one. The one she hoped she’d never have to tell her daughter. Of all of her six brothers and sisters, he was the only one who she trusted to love her no matter what, to listen without judgment. Her other siblings were good people, but they hadn’t strayed from the very conservative lifestyle that her parents had raised them in. Home-schooling. Church. Unbendable rules about right and wrong.
Most of them still lived within a hundred miles of her parents’ farm in Oklahoma. Only she and Devon had bailed. Devon had gotten a scholarship to attend college in California and had moved out before her parents could realize that whole kissing-a-boy thing hadn’t been a drunken whim but a life plan. And Oakley had followed him out to California shortly after when she’d gotten discovered at fifteen by a music producer while singing in a local Christian group. She’d moved in with Dev until Pop Luck had gotten popular and started touring. He’d been her closest family since.
“So,” Devon said, obviously searching for a change in topic, “you know a guy in the next band?”
“The drummer. He’s the one helping out with that music project at Bluebonnet. He gave us tickets, thought Reagan might have fun.”
Dev’s eyebrow arched. “Right. Because he thought your kid might have fun.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Uh-huh.”
Guitar chords blasted through the speaker for a moment as the crew on stage did the sound check. Oakley turned her head as the big screens on the side of the stage lit up with a publicity photo for Darkfall—the wind making the screens ripple and the bodies in the picture come to life. The crowd cheered.
“Look, Mom!” Reagan shouted back at her. “It’s Mr. Pike!”
“I see, baby.” Boy, did she. The larger-than-life image had Pike staring down the camera with his bandmates. Badass. Tough. Beautiful.
“Which one is he?” Devon asked, following her gaze.
“The blond.”
“Whoa,” he said low enough for the kids not to hear. “You had that guy over for pizza and managed to keep your clothes on? You have more restraint than I do.”
He had no idea. “I have no interest in being a groupie.”
“Can I be one?”
She shoved his shoulder. “You’re such a tramp. I’m so telling Hunter when he gets back in town.”
“Tell him. He’d agree. But seriously, is the guy a jerk? He looks like he has high potential to be an egomaniac. I don’t want that kind of guy around my baby sister and niece.”
She frowned and dragged her eyes away from the picture. “Oh, he’s got an ego, all right. He’s entirely inappropriate most of the time and a shameless flirt. But I wouldn’t say he’s a jerk. He’s kind of, I don’t know, weird and manic and … funny.”
Devon tipped up the bill of his hat, eyeing her with a sly smile. “Oh, so we have a mad crush then?”
“What? No.”
“Oak, you’re here in the Texas heat at a hard rock festival. You don’t even know these bands. And a few weeks ago, when I asked if you wanted to take Reagan to see that eighties cover band, you told me she was too young for concerts.”
Oakley crossed her arms. “Rae has since proven her maturity.”
He smirked. “Bull. Shit. You’ve got the hots for this guy.”
“He’s not my type.”
Dev shook his head and draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close so the kids couldn’t hear. “Come on, don’t freak out about it. You work too hard and spend too much time alone. This could be good for you.”
“An ill-advised hookup with a drummer who will drop me as soon as he gets bored could be good for me?”
“Exactly. Look, I know I’m your brother and shouldn’t be saying this, but there’s nothing wrong with finding yourself a hot, temporary fuck buddy.”
“Dev!”
He laughed. “Oh, don’t be such a prude. I mean, yes, you’re right. The guy’s probably not boyfriend material. But you’re a grown woman and deserve some fun. You know we’re always happy to have Rae over if you need a date night.”
“I think you just flunked big-brother school.”
He gave her shoulder a pat. “Okay, fine, want responsible brotherly advice? Use a condom. And don’t let him take video.”
She poked him in the ribs. But before she could respond to his comment, the lights on stage began to flash and the crowd surged forward, excitement like a contagion moving through them.
“Come on, Mom! Let’s get closer.” Reagan grabbed her hand and dragged her with the flow of the crowd.
They’d already been pretty close to the stage, thanks to the special passes Pike had sent, but now they were only ten or twelve rows of people back on the far left side of the stage. Bodies pressed close to them and she couldn’t help but get caught up in the fervor of the crowd.
She pushed onto her toes, knowing the drummer was almost always the first one to come out.
“Is that him?” Dev asked.
“Where?”