Crossroads

Chance Meeting

Isaac's POV
 
I pulled at the collar of the stupid button-down shirt my mother made me wear. I hated getting dressed up. But she insisted I look presentable tonight. Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean. She even made me slick back my chocolate locks. I looked like one of those preppy fuck boys I make fun of at school.
 
Normally my siblings and I are not dragged to these kinds of things. They usually let us stay home. Looking around I noticed plenty of people at this party wearing jeans and t-shirts. The room was packed to the gills with what appeared to be every important person from Big Machine Records.
 
We were here to celebrate the launch of Brantley Gilbert's next album. I guess its BG's daughter's sixteenth birthday too. So, they wanted to make it a family affair... yay.
 
I'd gotten to meet the guy a few times when he came to the house. My father, Dusty Kade, collaborated on a few songs with him. I'd like to say that my siblings and I are sort of desensitized to the whole famous singer’s thing. We've grown up surrounded by the music business. There was artist in and out of our home all the time. Hell, Memphis Aldean is my best friend.
 
However, when BG stepped into our home for the first-time last year it took everything in me to not turn into a stupid fangirl. I idolized Brantley. I love my dad, but Brantley Gilbert is who I wanna be when I grow up. Mom did a single with the guy a few years ago but they always met at the studio.
 
Mom always made sure we lead as normal a life as possible. We lived on a big farm just outside of Nashville. We had chores like any other kid that lived on a farm. I was up at five a.m. everyday plucking eggs, feeding the horses, checking on the pigs. Then it was off to school, homework, more chores and bed.
 
The only anomaly was we go to private school. We tried public school when B.J. and I were younger. Apparently, the paparazzi hounded the school so bad parents complained and the administration kicked us out. Whatever, I'm just glad they picked a school that didn't require uniforms.
 
"Having fun?" Mom asked as she slid up next to me. I gave her a side glare and she laughed. My mom laid her head down on my shoulder and sighed. At just seventeen I was taller than my mom by three inches and quickly headed for that six-foot marker.
 
"Zac," she began as she lifter her head. "I know this isn't your scene. But please, be on your best behavior. This night means a lot to your dad."
 
"I know, Mom," I said while rolling my eyes.
 
She patted me on the shoulder before disappearing back into the crowd. Jesus I was bored out of my skull. B.J. and Kristen were just soaking up the attention. They liked these sorts of things. Even when there were bonfire nights, my siblings would jump at the chance to go while I'd beg to stay home. Mostly so I didn’t actually have to sneak out to hang with my buddies and raise some hell. But that’s besides the point.
 
I casually swiped a flute of champaign off a tray as a waiter walked by. He didn't even look at me to make sure I was of age to have it. Oh, this was going to be a good night after all. I tipped the glass back to take a sip, not bad. The bubbles danced and burst on my tongue with a soft fruity flavor.
 
"Can I see some I.D. please?" came a voice from behind me.
 
I almost choked on the drink as I tried not to laugh. Memphis clapped me on the back as I caught my breath.
 
"You're not supposed to inhale it dude," he laughed.
 
I flipped him off then have him a quick bro hug, "What are you doing here?"
 
"Dad's cutting another single from BG," he said. "That and it is also a birthday party."
 
"So I hear," I mumbled into my drink as I took another sip.
 
Memphis snorted, "you know, it might help your music if you talked to some of these people."
 
I gave him a bored look, "no thanks. I want to make it on my own not because of my name."
 
If Memphis replied I didn't hear it. The crowed had parted just right to give me the perfect view of a gorgeous blonde. My eyes trailed from her boots up her toned legs encased in tight ripped jeans that had a slit just below her ass. I swear if she moved right, I would be able to tell what kind of panties she was wearing.
 
Her distressed concert tee clung to her like a second skin showing off her slim waist and perky tits. Man was she a vision. Her plump lips pursed as we locked eyes. Those green irises captivated me like no other girl ever had before. She quirked an eyebrow at me in question and I shot her a smirk.
 
"What are you looking at?" Memphis asked.
 
I simply nodded my head in her direction after she turned to talk to the person next to her. Memphis grabbed my shoulder and twirled me to face him.
 
"No," he said.
 
 "Huh?"
 
"Don't even think about it man," he said.
 
I scoffed at my best friend, "And why not."
 
"Zac," he sighed, "That's Breana Gilbert. You would know that if you actually came to a bonfire. Her dad is super protective. I mean she's never moving out, getting married, and probably wears a chastity belt protective."
 
"So, your saying that's the birthday girl?" I asked with a smirk.
 
"Dude, are you even listening to me?"
 
"Suppose I should go over and introduce myself," I said. I drained the Champaign glass and handed to him.
 
"Isaac!" he warned then sighed, "Whatever man, your funeral."
 
"That's the spirit!" I said clapping him on the shoulder and made my way towards her.
 
As I crossed the room, I pushed the cuffs of my sleeves up my forearms. Again, I was annoyed about my hair being slicked back but I'll make it work. I focused on her ass as I walked toward her. I'd love to take a bite of that.
 
I cleared my throat when I got close enough for her to hear. She turned around with an annoyed look on her face.
 
"Hey, I'm Isaac Kade. I just studied a book of numbers and realized I didn't have yours."
 
Fuck. I cringed at the cheesest damn line ever left my mouth. Where had I even heard that! Oh well, it's out there now. No turning back.
 
Breana’s POV
“Just what in the hell are you wearing Princess,” I heard growled at me no sooner than I stepped a toe out of the backseat of Mama’s SUV making me freeze. Channeling my inner Sabrina Williams Gilbert, I turned my head shaking the tumble of my blonde curls over my shoulders raising an eyebrow at my dad.