Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (3 page)

We were cracking up at some of Lili’s antics when Phil and Xavier slid on up next to our table, grins on their faces and beers in their hands.

“Hey,” said Xavier, all smooth for a ginger.

The three of us went stone sober.

“Hey,” we replied as one.

“You ladies enjoy the show?” he asked.

“Best one you guys have put on to date,” I replied with a happy grin.
Don’t pass out, don’t pass out, don’t pass out.

“Hell yes, it was,” Alys confirmed. “An hour and a half of balls-to-the-wall rockin’. Not too many bands can pull that off.”

“The new stuff you guys played was fantastic,” Lili told them. “It just keeps getting better.”

“Shit, X, we got some true fans here,” said Phil, his deep voice hitting me low in my special place.

Gods above, I’m creaming in my jeans.

Lili was right. I should’ve brought an extra pair of underwear.

“Congratulations on the record deal,” I told them. “You guys earned that.”

“Thanks,” Phil said, his gaze holding mine. “Looks like you’re celebratin’ somethin’, too.” He smiled, and his dimples rendered me speechless.

“It’s Kenna’s birthday,” chirped Lili.

I could feel myself flush. Phil just kept staring into my eyes, and I couldn’t help but look back into his. I was physically incapable of looking anywhere else.

Don’t pass out. Don’t throw up. You can do this. Just play it cool.

“You guys want some beers?” asked X.

“I’m driving,” Alys smoothly backed out.

“I don’t drink,” I said without breaking eye contact with Phil.

He leaned over the table toward me. “That’s not a bad thing,” he said. He clinked his beer bottle against my water bottle.

“No, thanks. But if you guys know where we can light up this spliff without having to go back to the car…” said Lili, fishing around in her bag.

Both of them stood to attention. Phil broke our eye contact to look at Lili. My brain surged back into working mode.

“You guys smoke?” X asked, a huge grin splitting his face.

Phil was grinning, too, his dimples punching deep. Looking back into my eyes, he said, “Follow us.”

Grabbing our gear, we stood up and exchanged a look that screamed,
Holy shit! This is really happening!
We let the guys lead the way—X in front, Phil behind him, and me right behind Phil.

He looked back over his shoulder at me and reached for my hand, smiling sweetly.

Do not pass out!

It was a big hand with elegant long fingers and heavy-looking veins. Warm and dry, it completely enfolded mine.

Oh fuck, oh man, my hand has gone all gross and clammy. He’s going to feel that. He’s going to think I’m so gross. Please, please, please,
I begged whatever was divine and listening,
stop my hand from sweating. Please, please, please. And don’t let me puke!

With that simple touch, Phil claimed my heart for all time. I knew it. He laced our fingers
—sweaty palms, help, gross sweaty palms—
navigating us through the crowd, around the stage, and to a door that led to a deck out back. Obviously meant as a VIP section of sorts, Phil and X steered us to a quiet, dark corner, away from the entrance.

“Glory Hole needs to shut it. All the fancy expensive equipment can’t make up for lack of talent,” huffed Alys.

At that exact moment, X took a swig of beer and ended up shooting it out of his nose and mouth. That made us all howl with laughter as he mopped up his face with his shirt.

“You ladies are gems!” crowed X. “Are you from New Orleans?”

“Close enough,” replied Lili. “LaPlace.”

She dug around in her bag and pulled out a small box where she housed her joint supply. Taking one out, she handed it to me, “Spark it up, birthday girl.”

To do so, I released Phil’s hand and prayed my palm would dry out a bit. He seemed reluctant to let go, but it wouldn’t light itself. I lit it up and stashed the lighter in my pocket, successfully toweling off my hand in the process. As I pulled it out, he took my hand again.

After a few puffs, I passed the joint to him, and his eyes looked down into mine—
down
, as in this motherfucker was so tall that he could look
down
into my eyes. I was beyond enchanted by what I saw in them.

With warmth, joy, a raw sensuality I have never encountered before, he blazed with the power of a million notes, beats, rhythms.
Unbelievable! I can almost hear it! I
feel
it!

Like a true toker, he held in the hit and said, “Damn, where do you girls get this shit? That’s some serious fuckin’ bud.”

Felix, the drummer, came out, poking his head around, until he spotted us and joined us. He was all smiles as he insisted we call him Flipper. That was when we all officially introduced ourselves.

Before we knew it, an hour had flown by, filled with laughter and general get-to-know-each-other chitchat. At some point, Phil had slipped his arm around my waist, and he was twirling a strand of my hair around his fingers.

All of his touches had been completely appropriate, if a bit claim-staking. Floating on a heavenly cloud, I prayed I hadn’t smoked so much damn pot that I was really just hallucinating all of this. I would be really upset if I woke up tomorrow on the bayou, cuddling with an alligator.

A harassed-looking fellow with extremely curly brown hair and glasses found us and demanded that the guys go with him inside. He ended up being their manager, Tim Williams, and said something about Rattlesnake Records and signatures.

Phil looked down at me and smiled a smile that I immediately named the Lady Killer.

“Don’t go
anywhere
,” he said.

Then, he did something…
different
. It was really unexpected in my opinion because this sort of move actually
meant
something to me. He pressed his Third Eye to mine, and I was filled with an incredible sense of elation and peace. It was coming
from
him. His right hand reached up to cradle the back of my head, and his left was at the small of my back, pulling me flush against him.

With my heart pounding so hard, I knew he felt it, knew
he
knew the effect he had on me. The blood rushed through my veins so quickly that I could detect my pulse down to even the tiniest of capillaries all throughout my body.

Weirdly though was that I felt I had the same effect on
him.

Then, he pressed those gorgeous lips to mine, and the world—one in which I’d believed I had a full grasp of the color spectrum—exploded into Technicolor.

Holding back was no longer possible. I snaked my arms around his neck and pressed myself fully against him, my frantically beating heart against his own racing blood pump. My lips parted as his tongue swept into my mouth.

Oh damn!

He tasted like the sweetest piece of most epic wonderful.

I never wanted this to end. I wanted to stay just like this for the rest of my life, tasting and kissing only him.

Their manager pointedly cleared his throat, and with a frustrated, ragged sigh, Phil pulled back. We were both panting slightly, and a strange light glowed behind those warm maple-sugar eyes. He looked almost angry, and that look set me on
fire
.

“Happy birthday, Baby Girl,” he softly said to me.

Something in his eyes flashed fleetingly, an element of surprise and confusion.

Just like that, he was gone. It seemed as though he’d taken the light and colors of the world with him.

The three of us were left alone on the deck in the VIP area. It was so quiet.

I turned to my two best friends whose jaws slightly hung open, and their wide eyes stared in complete shock.

“That just happened, right?” I asked, my voice sounding hoarse and alien to my own ears. “Please tell me that just fucking happened.”

“That just fucking happened,” Alys croaked.

“Just to be clear, Phil fucking Deveraux just kissed me, shoved his tongue in my mouth, and wished me a happy birthday, yeah?”

“Yeah. And he told you not to go anywhere. He called you Baby Girl, too,” said Lili.

“Am I allowed to freak the fuck out now?” My voice was a strangled whisper.

“How you haven’t already is beyond either of our comprehensions,” remarked Alys.

Then, the three of us started screaming and hugging each other while we hopped like idiots around the deck. This naturally drew the attention of a bouncer, who promptly kicked us out of the VIP section.

“No, seriously! Phil and X told us to wait for them here. They didn’t want us to go anywhere!” Lili protested.

“Yeah, that’s what all you girls say.”

“This is
bullshit!”
she snarled. “We aren’t lying! Go ask Jimi. He’ll vouch for us!”

“Jimi went home already. It’s closing time, ladies. Everybody out.”

The man actually escorted us to the door.

Lili was fuming, stomping her way ahead of us to the car.

“It’s okay, Lili, really,” I assured her even though my chest felt like it was being filled with lead with each step taking me further from Bougainvillea. “Either way, this has been the best birthday ever.”

Lili whipped around, her little elfin face a mask of fury. “He wanted you to be there, Kenna. I just witnessed that man falling in love with you at first sight!”

Turning on her heel, she continued her angry stomp to the car.

“It was pretty intense,” said Alys. “But maybe it really is for the best. You don’t want to be like all the other chicks, you know? Getting fucked in the back of a van and then sent on your merry way.”

“Utter
bullshit!”
shouted Lili.

I snorted. “Yeah, this way I retain my dignity and self-respect. How could banging Phil Deveraux compare to that?”

I sounded lighthearted and happy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Lili was right. I was walking away from an amazing man who, for some reason, had fallen in love with me. I felt like I’d lost a part of myself that I would never, ever get back. It was gone. It belonged to
him
now.

“So…was that your birthday wish come true?” Alys asked me as we made it to the car.

She clicked the button, and Lili threw herself into the backseat before slamming the door.

The lead dropped to my gut, and instead, a hollow ache settled in my chest. “No, actually. It wasn’t.”

I would never forget the day I’d first heard Phil’s voice.

Damn, it’s hot this summer.

Alys, Lili, Jimi, Matt, Mike—Alys’s sort-of dude—Jaime and I were at a three-day music festival. A scrawny just-turned-fourteen Connor was with us, too, and he was thrilled to be spending three filthy days with us. We were all camping at the concert grounds in a huge tent Alys’s parents lent us.

Lili told her dad that we were going to an all-girls virginity pledge retreat.

“He seriously bought that steaming pile of shit for a story?” I asked, laughing.

“He’s desperate to believe that I’m still innocent. If he wants to spend his life with his head buried in the Sands of Bullshit, then let him,” she replied dryly.

Music filled in all the spaces, even in between the cracks of mud and filth coating our skin. The sweet plumes mingled in with the rank body odor all around. It was worth it, every crusty bit, just to listen to the gods inhabit human form, so we could worship at the altar of the stage.

By the third day, we all had some serious body funk going on. Tired, achy, sore, we were just chilling next to the third stage, which we called The Crap Stage, designated for local bands fresh out of their parents’ garages. These bands are usually awful, and for the most part, we don’t bother spending any time there. But it was close to our tent, and we needed some airing out before the main stage bands got started later on in the afternoon.

“Feeling better?” I asked Alys as she and Connor showed up.

She’d had a headache, and she had gone to lie down in the tent for about an hour. Connor had tagged along to make sure she was safe since Mike had shown no interest in doing so.

“Much better. Thanks,” she replied, taking a seat next to me, shifting and wincing a bit.