Applewild (5 page)

“I’ll pay inside if you start tossing bags in the bed. Get thirty-five if they have enough.”

Alton didn’t protest or voice his obvious confusion as Monroe went in to pay at the register. When she returned, he was dutifully loading ice. She reached in the bin to help.

“So where exactly are we going?” he asked. “And why the hell do we need all this?”

“There’s a bonfire. Wayne brings the music, we take turns bringing ice and hot dogs, and everyone else brings a case of beer.”

Alton stopped. “How many people will be there?”

“I don’t know. Twenty, maybe?”

“And they all have cell phones.”

“Probably.”

“With cameras.”

Monroe stopped, too, and wiped the condensation from her gloves on her shorts. Alton’s eyes followed the movement, and Monroe felt the tension. His blatant admiration of her thighs left no question as to what he wanted from her. She had a feeling seeing Sophie on TV had made him even more eager for a distraction. She shifted her hips. He realized he was staring and raised his eyes back to hers, but they were unapologetic.

“They’ll respect your privacy. I’ll make sure of it.”

“How?”

“I’ll ask them. Like a normal human being. These aren’t the paparazzi. These are people I went to school with.”

“
Everyone
is the paparazzi.”

“Would you rather go back to the farm?”

“With you?”

She shook her head and started tossing bags in the bed again.

Alton sighed. “No.”

“Then come on. Let loose a little. Sophie’s the one everyone wants to hate right now, anyway.” She slammed the tailgate back in place.

They got back in the truck. She put it in gear and drove through town until the only visible light came from the stars and the moon. Alton cracked his window and rested his head on the glass. The journey was silent, except for the last few crickets and frogs of the season.

Monroe turned down a back road and onto a bumpy dirt lane carved roughly in a cornfield. They drove until they came to a clearing backed by a patch of woods. Four trucks, a couple beat up cars, and an SUV were already parked.

The truck beds faced the fire pit and a few girls sat on the tailgates, swinging their feet while the guys got a fire going. Monroe parked facing the fire so the ice wouldn’t melt and hopped out. Alton followed suit.

“Help me dump the bags,” she said, ripping open a bag of ice and dumping it into the bed.

“What are we doing?” he asked.

“Turning my truck into a cooler.” She stood on the bumper to reach the next bag. “It’s easier this way. No one has to bring anything besides the drinks and the ice just melts away.”

“Hey, ‘Roe.” A curly-haired girl around Monroe’s age stepped up on the tire next to her to help.

“Hi, Shannon.”

Shannon glanced at Alton. Surprise registered in her expression. Alton grimaced, probably bracing himself for questions, autograph requests, and/or photo ops. Maybe he was worried Shannon would make an announcement to the rest of the group.

But instead she turned to Monroe and said in a low voice, “I thought you were coming with Rodney.”

“I was.” Monroe shrugged. “He’s still coming, I think. I hope. He has the Applewild truck.”

They laughed. Alton seemed to relax. Soon all the ice was in the bed. Shannon beckoned to her fiancé who was loading wood into the fire pit, and he brought over a case of Budweiser.

“Hey, ‘Roe. Who’s this?”

Monroe glanced at Alton. She knew full well Shannon was only pretending to overlook his familiar face. Did the rest of them have the sense to do the same? Alton shrugged, giving her the go ahead to introduce him.

“This is Alton,” she said. “Alton, this is Mark. He and Shannon have been together since high school.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” Shannon joked.

“Alton,” Mark muttered, examining the actor’s face closely, as if he were trying to place him. Then he turned to Monroe. “I thought you were coming with Rodney.”

“Jesus Christ.” Monroe rolled her eyes and grabbed Alton’s hand.

She led him to the center of the circle.

“Everyone!” Monroe said to the people gathered so far. “This is Alton. He’s here to relax. So let him. And, yes, Rodney’s still coming.”

A few of the guys gave her a thumbs up. The ones who had started drinking raised their bottles. Two chatting girls waved from a tailgate. Then they all went back to minding their own business, just as Monroe had assumed they would.

“So what now?” Alton asked.

Monroe shrugged. “Talk to people. Wait for the beer to get cold.”

“Why wait?” Alton turned and headed for the back of the truck.

Monroe watched him go. He seemed to get caught up in a conversation with Mark and Shannon, albeit reluctantly. A new arrival pulled her attention away from her impromptu date. A Dodge Ram 3500 with oversized tires backed into the circle. Wayne was here, which meant the music was here. She knew he’d have a mix of hip hop and upbeat country music to blast through his ridiculously loud subwoofer. And she knew about four drinks in she’d be dancing like crazy in the bed of his truck.

She glanced at Alton. The two girls who had been lounging and gossiping had come over to join the conversation. They were giggling and flirting, and they must have played it cool because he seemed surprisingly receptive. A stab of disappointment hit Monroe. She’d feel really stupid if she ditched Rodney just to be ditched by Alton.

She’d waited long enough for that beer. She hopped on the tire farthest from Alton, hoping he might just not see her, but he caught her eye. She pretended not to notice and grabbed a Yuengling before walking to Wayne’s truck.

She approached the open passenger side door. He was in the driver’s seat, a trucker cap shielding his unshaven face from view as he fiddled with an MP3 player.

“Hey, Wayne.”

He looked up and smiled around a wad of tobacco. “Hey, ‘Roe. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Why, thank you.” She pretended to blush. “Where’s the lady friend?”

“She’s already run off on me. Gabbin’ with Hayley or somethin’.” He gestured to a corner of the clearing where the fire light barely reached, and Monroe could just make out two figures in the midst of a conversation. “That girl’s got some kinda drama goin’ on. As usual. And as usual, I don’t want to know about it.”

“Did she and Brett break up? For the fiftieth time?”

“Probably.” He shrugged and pressed a button on his souped-up faceplate. A few seconds of music blasted from the speakers. Monroe covered both ears, the gloves saving her from the brunt of the noise. “Sorry. Checkin’ the levels.”

“The levels are loud,” Monroe informed him.

He gave a deep chuckle and pulled four bottles out from under his seat. “This might help. Honey wine.”

“You are my hero. I’m keeping this bottle for myself.”

“Do what you need to do. Secret’s safe with me.” He winked.

Monroe packed three bottles in the ice in the back of her truck, forcing herself to keep from scoping out Alton’s current location.

But he found her. She felt his approach before he spoke. She already knew exactly what his presence felt like.

“What do you have there?”

“Honey wine. Wayne makes it in his basement.”

“Can I have a glass?”

“We don’t have glasses.”

Alton’s brow furrowed. They were on one side of the vehicle, near some bushes beginning to encroach on the clearing. The firelight didn’t reach them. Shannon, Mark, and some new arrivals were chatting on the other side, drinking beer, paying no attention to the rising heat just a few feet away. And the heat was definitely rising. Alton and Monroe were close, secluded, and they’d given up hiding the attraction between them.

Monroe set her beer down, popped the cork on the wine, and took a long sip. She handed it to Alton. He watched her lips, still moist and sweet, and drank.

“That’s some good stuff,” he said, handing the bottle back, those deep brown eyes holding her gaze.

There were reasons this shouldn’t happen. But for the life of her, Monroe couldn’t remember one. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to kiss him back. She bit her lip and absently flexed her right hand.

“So what’s up with the gloves?” he asked.

The question caught Monroe off guard. She hadn’t expected the action to deviate from sensual. The moment was dead, any physical urges replaced by a mental scramble to field the inquiry. She didn’t talk about her scars with just anyone. Her foster parents, the child psychiatrist, a few select friends. It was easy enough to find out the answers just by looking through local newspapers from ten years ago, but
she
didn’t talk about it.

Alton seemed to realize he’d overstepped a boundary. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just a fashion statement.” She shrugged, finally finding her voice.

“Yeah.” He didn’t seem convinced, but he dropped the subject.

The music started—a loud, bass-thumping blast from Wayne’s truck. It broke the silence and eye contact between them.

“Well.” Monroe grabbed her beer and smiled politely. “Guess you should get back to making new friends.”

She headed for the chairs by the fire and raised her beer in Rodney’s direction as he hopped down from the Applewild truck. She finished the beverage in a few gulps so she could move back to the wine, but Shannon plopped down next to her and snatched the bottle before she could take a sip. She took a swig and was handing it back to Monroe when Mark grabbed it. Then it went to Rodney and one of the girls that had been flirting with Alton. By the time it finally got back to Monroe, it was almost gone. She downed the rest. She could already feel a buzz setting in. Wayne made his stuff strong.

Another bottle appeared and she snagged the second swig. She made it count, and the wine almost shot through her nose as she dodged Shannon’s swipe for it.

“Give that here! It’s totally my turn!”

Monroe took another gulp and finally handed it over. “You stole mine!”

“It’s
ours
, Monroe. Wayne brings it for
everyone
.” Shannon took a drink and rolled her eyes. “So,
Rodney
,” Shannon began. Monroe could only assume she’d pre-gamed before the bonfire. She had a beer in her other hand and it sloshed dangerously in the bottle. “Are you very heartbroken over our little ‘Roe here?”

“Shannon, seriously?” Monroe covered one side of her face, the side toward Rodney, so she couldn’t see him and he couldn’t see her embarrassment.

“Nah, not at all. Got some free booze out of it. Plus those lovely ladies over there seem to be feelin’ pretty sorry for me.
And
I hot boxed the truck. With my fart.”

“Ew!” Monroe and Shannon said in unison. Mark and Rodney high-fived.

“I’m not driving it home, anyway,” Monroe pointed out.

“I know. But you’ll know it happened.”

“Ew,” Monroe and Shannon said again.

“So where’s your second date of the evening?” Rodney asked as he took his drink of wine.

Monroe grabbed the bottle. “Look around, you might find him.”

“I could make myself available again.”

“I’ll let you know.”

She took a sip, then felt someone else take the bottle from her as Shannon grabbed her hand. “Come on! Let’s get some beer and shake our asses!”

“I don’t really have an ass to shake,” Monroe said, allowing herself to be dragged to her truck.

“Yes you do!” Shannon smacked her butt, making Monroe jump.

“Jesus, Shannon, maybe you don’t need another one.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I do.”

She grinned and handed a bottle to Monroe. They twisted the caps, looped arms, and drank. Then Shannon pulled her to Wayne’s truck. He was dancing with his girlfriend by the open driver’s side door, hands in her back pockets, pressing her firmly against him. Shannon jumped in the bed and helped Monroe up.

A country song about exotic beaches and beautiful women blasted from the speakers. The catchy guitar riff and alcohol coaxed Monroe’s hips into moving. Shannon threw her bottle cap at Wayne’s head and mocked his dancing, pretending to grind on Monroe’s ass. Monroe made a kissy face. He grinned and flipped them off.

Mark came over and handed them each a hotdog he’d roasted over the fire. “You guys better sop up some of that alcohol or your brains’ll do it for you.”

“Too late!” Shannon screamed over the music, but they raised their bottles to him in thanks and ate while they moved.

Monroe and Shannon danced through three more songs. Wayne and his girlfriend headed for the woods sometime during the second, and before the fourth Mark approached the tailgate and held his hand out to Shannon. She gave Monroe a glazy-eyed, goodbye smile and let him lead her away, probably to the backseat of his car.

Monroe took a moment to survey the crowd. She was sweaty and out of breath, and her head spun from the alcohol. There were still plenty of people talking and laughing by the fire; a few were dancing and singing to the music. Rodney was gone. Probably in the woods, or…
Oh, God, no.
She could see a bare ass peeking over the tailgate of the Applewild truck. She averted her gaze and took another swig of beer. She tried to keep herself from looking for Alton, but she couldn’t help noticing he wasn’t there to look for.