Kelly

THE MUSIC PUMPS THROUGH THE SPEAKERS AT Roxy's, signaling the switch from the low-key atmosphere from when I first arrived to the dreaded party vibe the younger population prefers. The transition always makes me feel old, and I wonder for the hundredth, possibly thousandth, time why we still meet at this bar every Friday night.

I eye the door when it opens across the room and deflate when it's a group of guys filtering in, already loud and buzzing. They head straight for the bar.

"Hey," Teddy says as she slides onto the stool next to me at our high-top table.

"Uh, no." I push her out of the chair, placing my palm on the seat. "Reserved."

Teddy throws her head back and laughs. "Rude," she yells over the music as she makes her way around the table to sit across from me.

Jensen sets a pitcher of beer down in front of her and looks between us, his face its usual mask of grumpiness. I know he hates this bar as much as I do and would happily exchange it for one of the quieter ones in town. "What'd he do?" he asks his girlfriend but his narrowed eyes are on me.

Teddy pours herself beer with a laugh. "He kicked me out of the chair next to him. Apparently, it's reserved."

"You're not special," Finn pipes in from his spot further down the table. "He's been blocking everyone from sitting there. He's acting like royalty is joining us tonight instead of our little Sutton Button."

I glare at my girl's stepbrother. I often fantasize about smacking Finn, but the urge is extra strong tonight. "Fuck off," I spit out, which causes everyone at the table to laugh.

I knew I should have just picked up Sutton instead of agreeing to meet her here. Her preference of arriving late is more annoying than usual since I have to deal with her nosy family alone. It's been a week since we were outed, and this will be our first time together out in public. The sibling group chat has been blowing up, according to Sutton, so I knew the Andersons would be animated in their commentary about us.

I have conflicting thoughts running rampant, dueling for attention. On the one hand, I want nothing more than to finally show off my girl, proudly claim her to this nosy small town once and for all. But, just as strongly, I want to hide her away and keep her all to myself.

Although this will be our first official time out together in public, we haven't exactly been holed up at home either. We've not been hiding; we've been living our lives. Just turns out, we're a pretty private couple naturally.

We've spent every lunch break together this week. Monday I came to pick her up at the farm and we ran into a group of people in the staff parking lot that were just coming back from lunch. We endured the whistles and catcalls after being caught pressing Sutton against my truck as I kissed her, my hand inching under her sweater, her hands fisted in my hair. I laughed it off, secretly puffed up about it, while she hid her red face in my chest.

"I told you I wasn't going to hold back on the PDA," I said against her neck.

She shoved me away with those tiny hands and I laughed at her obvious embarrassment. I can't help it. She's just so damn cute when she's riled up.

We also spent every night together this week, which isn't anything new, really, but it felt lighter. Being on the other side of the secret took a huge weight off us, and things feel easier. The sense of doom or a ticking clock has been replaced by the naturalness of our everyday lives.

Living out loud.

Just like we said we wanted. And I promised to live it loud, even if it meant making my girl blush in public. Especially if it meant making my girl blush in public. I've waited a long ass time for this, and I'm going to live it up.

On Tuesday I stopped at The Flower Shop mid-morning. Sutton was hunched over the high counter, her nose stuck in a planner of some sort, that white-blonde hair of hers coming down on either side of her face. But as I entered, her head lifted up, hair partially obscuring one side of her face, and she glanced at me. She looked away almost immediately, bending her head back down toward the planner, but not quick enough to hide the half smile showing between the curtains of hair.

An older lady greeted me instead, asking if I needed help. Without taking my eyes off Sutton, I told the lady, "I want to get flowers for my girl. But she's kind of a fussy one. Doesn't like the cliche bouquets. She likes ones with personality."

The lady had looked between me and Sutton a few times, obviously picking up on the situation quickly. She gave Sutton a knowing glance and pointed at her. "See. Told you. I'm no dummy." And she walked away to tend to some other tasks.

Sutton continued to ignore me. I'd occasionally catch her peeking at me through the long strands of her hair, but she never outright acknowledged me. As soon as I had plucked out enough random flowers and carefully arranged them into a bouquet in my hands, I held it behind my back as I approached the counter.

"Hey," I said, my voice low. I waited until she raised her head to look up at me, and I used my free hand to comb the hair out of my way. I wanted to see both of those vibrant blue eyes.

I brought the flowers forward, presenting them to her. "These are for you."

She eyed them for a few seconds, before a smile broke free, and she reached for the bouquet. After smelling them, she finally looked at me. I mean, really looked at me. Her eyes were twinkling, the smile reaching all the way up there. "Thanks."

"I've been wanting to do that forever."

"What? Give me flowers? Because this isn't the first time, Kelly. I have lots of dried flowers as proof."

"No, but it's the first time I get to kiss you right after, though." And I leaned over that counter and pulled her in for a sweet kiss that was all too short for my liking, but she was working. I can be respectful when I want to be.

Wednesday was Halloween. Some of the group met at Roxy's for the bar's costume party, but we opted to stay in and hand out candy to trick or treaters at my house. We worked on our latest puzzle—a picture of a golden retriever sitting on the toilet reading a newspaper—between dings of the doorbell, our own golden retriever animated with all the activity. Well, until about 8:00 p.m. when the excitement wore off and she just wanted to sleep in peace.

Finally, we turned the porch light off, letting the candles in Jack and Jackie O'Lantern burn into the night until they puffed out in the wind eventually; and we crawled into bed naked.

On Thursday we met up with Jensen, Teddy and their dog at the hiking trail by the lake with our dog. The dogs led the way, the girls walking ahead of us, side by side as they talked animatedly with their hands, occasionally peeking over their shoulders at us as we trailed behind them. My eyes rarely left Sutton, mostly wandering over the curves in her tight black yoga pants, but also stuck on the scene: hanging out with my girl and best friends without the pretense or the secrets.

It was only awkward initially, standing around in the parking lot with our dogs fluttering around our legs as we stared at each other. Finally, Teddy looped her arm through Sutton's and tugged her to the trail, and Jensen and I followed along, immediately falling into a natural conversation as if only days ago he wasn't on the verge of kicking my ass.

And here we are, Friday at Roxy's. I eye the empty chair next to me and pull out my phone to find a message from my girl with a timestamp of a few minutes ago.

SUTTON: Don't get your undies in a bunch. Running later than usual.

SUTTON: And remember your promise...

Fuck, I think on a breathy exhale. She's up to no good, I'm sure of it.

"Uh oh," Rylie sings, sucking in a breath.

Instinctively, my head shoots up, and I know without actually laying eyes on my girl that Rylie's reaction is due to whatever outfit Sutton decided to wear tonight. I tense, preparing myself, reminding myself of my earlier pep talk—and promise to Sutton—that I wasn't going to overreact like some possessive asshole tonight. But the moment I see her, it all goes out the window.

I pull the bill of my ball cap over my eyes with a low groan, as if to hide the sight that threatens my sanity, before lifting it back up and spinning it around backwards on my head as I slip off my seat and stalk toward her.

Sutton has stopped walking, hands firmly placed on her hips, as she waits for my approach, almost as if she expected nothing less from me. I spy a small smirk gracing her lips, and I narrow my eyes at her before raking my heated gaze all over her body. The body that is on full display for everyone in a skintight dress that is so short and so low it barely covers any of the essential bits. The essential bits that are for me and me alone. I clench my jaw, my eyes again focus on that beautiful face that is no longer even attempting to hide the bratty smile.

As soon as I'm within touching distance of her, she palms my face to shush me, no doubt. "Nu uh," she says before I get a chance to speak. "You can just hush it. I already know you're pissed. The steam coming out of your dragon face was my first clue. So shut it. I know, you hate my outfit. Think it's too short. Or too low. Or too tight. Just overall too much everything." She pinches my lips together with her fingers, her grin so wide I'm tempted to kiss it off her. "So shhhh, I don't care. My body, my choice."

I grab her wrist and pin her hand between us as I bend to whisper in her ear, "You're wrong, baby girl. My body. And I don't share."

She steals my hat and places it on her head. With a pat on my cheek, she says, "Good, glad we're on the same page."

I turn to watch her as she walks around me, toward the table with her family. "I'm not even sure we were having the same conversation," I call after her as she hops up on the open stool I was saving for her.

Begrudgingly, I follow her and sit next to her, reclaiming my hat, placing it backwards on my head. I comb my fingers over her hair, messy from the hat, before fisting it at the back of her neck and bringing her face to mine. She gasps and I swallow it as I cover her mouth with mine, coaxing her to open up by licking across her lips. I can feel her hesitancy, probably from our captive audience, but I don't relent; and, finally, she gives in, swiping her tongue against mine. I pull away, cupping her cheek with my hand. "You're such a fucking brat. You know you picked that outfit specifically to piss me off."

She shrugs. "So?" Then her face lights up with a flirty smile, taunting me.

"You could always cover her up with your shirt again," Rylie supplies.

Without turning to look at her, I lift my hand with my middle finger raised. Everyone laughs. Even my girl.

"Funny?" I ask her, ignoring everyone else.

She shrugs again. "Kinda."

Before I can retaliate in any way, Teddy calls out, "Shots!"

Jensen groans, narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend. "Really, Teddy? It's one of those nights?"

Teddy smirks. "It's one of those nights. Who's with me?"

Sutton and Rylie both whoop, and it's my turn to glare at my girl. There's no way I want her walking around dressed like that. She sees me eyeing my gray Henley and she laughs, leaning in to whisper, "Are you regretting your wardrobe choice? Wishing you would have thought two steps ahead of me and prepared properly?"

"Baby girl," I warn, my face inches from hers, gripping her chin in my fingers roughly. "Be-fucking-have."

She cackles as she jumps off the stool and follows after the women, wedging her body between them and wrapping her arms around their waists. She shoots me a flirtatiously evil look over her shoulder before they arrive at the bar to order their shots. Fuck tequila; it's never a good idea.

I'm not the only one gawking at our girls at the bar; Jensen's eyes are glued to the scene, too. We watch as they lick salt off each other's hands, clink glasses, shoot back the alcohol and suck on lime wedges with puckered faces. The way they linger at the bar, stationed there in a huddle, I realize they don't plan on stopping at one shot.

"Fuck me," I mutter under my breath and Jensen looks at me. He motions with his head toward the girls, his eyes raised in question—Should we intervene?—and I nod in response—Yes, we fucking should! When we hop off our stools, Finn follows, tagging along as we stomp our way through the crowds of people.

Rylie notices us first, a smirk lifting her lips, and she leans back against the bar, undoubtedly to watch the scene unfold as if it's her own personal live reality show. "Finnegan," she purrs. "Taking advantage of the free admission to our Caveman Performance?"

I tune out his response, my eyes zoned in on my girl. She holds an overflowing shot glass in one hand, the liquid slopping over the edge and spilling on her skin, and a lime wedge in her other hand. Her eyes are glued to me, sparkling mischievously. I step into her space, reach around her with my body pressed against hers to grab the saltshaker off the bar, and I tilt her head to the side to expose her neck. Leaning forward, I suck her sweet skin into my mouth to dampen it before shaking salt on it, dipping my head to lick it away. I meet her eyes as I bring her hand holding the shot up to my lips and force her to pour it into my mouth. Then I lick the spilled alcohol from her fingers. Finally, I take the lime wedge from her, stick it in her mouth before leaning down to take it from her, my lips brushing hers momentarily.

I can already feel the burn of the alcohol trailing through my body, and I know there's a significant chance I'll regret this choice, but the coinciding reaction from my girl is worth it. Since our bodies are pressed together, I feel her shudder, her eyelashes fluttering. The crotch of my pants grows tight, and she gasps, noticing my reaction to her.

"I told you to behave." My voice is gruff, and I catch her staring at my mouth. I tilt her chin up, forcing her eyes on mine. "Unless you want to be kissed—and I mean the claiming, hungry kind—you should probably stop looking at me like that."

"You stole my fucking shot," she says, ignoring my threat.

I chuckle, wrapping my arms around her waist. "Took one for the team. Now pace yourself before you're sick in the bathroom with me holding your hair, yeah?"

She pats my cheek in a patronizing way. "Awww, you'd hold my hair?"

"You know I fucking would." I glare at her, and she laughs.

But like the brat she is, she pivots in my hold, throwing her arm up to get the bartender's attention. "Another round!" she yells, and both women next to us cheer.

"Sutton," I warn, but she doesn't let me finish my threat. Instead, she yanks my head to hers and takes my mouth in a bruising kiss.

"There. Now you can't threaten me with that, as if that's really a punishment anyway."

Randy, the bartender who is now on my shit list, lines up six shot glasses and fills them with bottom shelf tequila. Jensen and I exchange expressions that clearly declare our dislike of the situation, but Finn claims his glass and holds it up in a salute, downing it without the salt and lime fanfare.

Sutton copies my actions from before, going up on her toes to suck in the sensitive skin of my neck, and I groan, pressing my hardened cock against her to communication what she's doing to me. It's not so much a warning this time; more a promise of what's to come. She eyes me seductively as if she knows the effects of the one shot are already loosening me up, tilts my head to the side, sprinkles salt on my neck and then takes her time licking, nibbling and sucking it clean. After repeating the process on her, we hold the shot glasses up and drain them, forgoing the limes, instead chasing the tequila with a searing kiss that probably goes on far too long.

It would have probably continued if Rylie hadn't stolen Sutton away, dragging her onto the makeshift dance floor that is crowded with gyrating bodies. I lose sight of her and groan. "Fucking hell," I cuss loudly.

Jensen pats me on the shoulder, leaving his hand there. He's staring off where the women disappeared. "Welcome to my world."

We make our way back to our table, and I sip my warm beer, trying to participate in the conversations going on. It isn't until Sutton finally joins us, stumbling into me from behind, that my tense body relaxes.

I turn on the stool, pulling her between my legs. "Fucking finally."

She pouts at me. "You didn't come dance with me. I sent you a million texts."

My brow furrows and I'm tempted to look at my phone since I didn't feel it vibrate. "I told you I don't dance."

"What if I told you about 37 dudes—like super hot dudes—were groping me and eye-fucking me..."

I slap her ass, cutting her off before she can finish, and glare at her. "Are you trying to get me arrested tonight?"

She throws her head back and laughs. "You're so easy."

Instead of replying, I slam my mouth onto hers, ending the conversation. Again, we're interrupted before it can go too far.

"Get a room!" Vivi shouts. "And not at my house, for the love of god!"

Sutton takes her seat next to me, and I immediately pull the stool closer, smoothing my hand up and down her bare thigh. "We're together now. Get over it." I stare down our family and friends, daring them to speak up.

"Kelly," Teddy says, her words slurred a bit. Tequila is definitely never a good idea for her. "We're all playing catchup since you hid the first part of your relationship. There was no slow buildup for us to get used to the idea. You just—BAM—sprang it on us in the damn middle."

Sutton rolls her eyes. "Whatever. How are any of you surprised by this? You've all been giving us shit for years."

Finn pipes up from his spot down the table, "Yeah but we never thought either of you would have the guts to actually do something. First, Jensen surprised us and grew some balls when he got together with Teddy after years of boners for her. And now..." his voice trails off as he gestures at me and my girl.

"See," Rylie butts in, "for me, it's the amped up alphahole. Before Kelly at least attempted to leash it, but now it's all out in its full glory. And, phew..." She fans herself. "I just might have unlocked a new kink."

Finn scoffs in his seat next to her. "You like to be bossed around?"

She winks at him and purrs, "More like be claimed."

Vivi cuts in, "Ew gross, you two."

While everyone's attention is on them, I steal another kiss from my girl, biting along her neck. Someone kicks my chair under the table, and I peel myself away from Sutton to find Jensen glaring at me.

"You can cut it out with the PDA, asshole. She is still my sister," he says with his arms folded over his chest. "I can still rethink my decision not to kick your ass."

I chuckle, not the least bit intimidated. "Get used to it, J, because I already wasted too much time with my girl. I'm not wasting any more."

I feel Sutton's fingers at the base of my neck, lightly scratching my scalp. When I turn my gaze to her, I see the bright smile on her face. And, fuck, how am I supposed to keep my hands—and lips—to myself when she's looking at me like that? So I don't. I grip her throat lightly and pull her in for another deep kiss that goes on long after the protests grumbling around us fade away into oblivion.

We're doing this out loud. So fucking loud. Everyone else can shut it.

-

FINN: Another one bites the dust.

CHARLIE: Sutton?

FINN: No. Kelly. Poor schmuck.

SUTTON: Or...lucky bastard, as some might say.

FINN: Who says this?

VIVI: Considering he risked his friendship, I think Kelly might consider himself lucky.

SUTTON: As he should.

SULLY: So the secret's out?

JENSEN: You knew?

SULLY: ...

JJ: Shit. Even the recluse knew.

SUTTON: You're one to talk, cousin. When's the last time you showed your face?

JJ: Don't change the subject. It's roast Sutton day.

CHARLIE: *music note emoji* You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath.

VIVI: Because nothing says a roast like Taylor Swift lyrics?

CHARLIE: TS is for every occasion.

JENSEN: Does she have a song about how fucking annoying group chats are?

SULLY: But the real question is...how's Kelly's face? Did J break his nose?

FINN: He was saved by the women.

SULLY: Figures.

SUTTON: Why do you sound disappointed? Did you want my brother to break my boyfriend's nose?

SULLY: ...

JJ: Actually the real question is...how's Kelly's possessiveness now that Sutton is actually his girl? It's off the charts now, right?

VIVI: Well, it ain't less...

FINN: Or...maybe the real question is...how much more does Sutton egg him on?

VIVI: I repeat my above answer.

JJ: In the words of our (least) favorite recluse: figures.

SUTTON: Everyone can fuck off. And mind your business.

JENSEN: Amen, sister. Exactly my thoughts.