The Beautiful Truth

// 101

Our 'after' picture, taken by a predictably miffed Mallory, was much better than the 'before' shot Jason Mandrino had taken. When word got around that Talyn and Jason were starting a game, everyone pulled their trucks up to and around the muddy gorge that cut through the field and turned on their lights. Especially considering all the KC roll-bar lights, we had more than enough illumination.

Talyn's team won, of course, but they were all having so much fun that I don't really think it mattered in the end. I'd just sat and watched, helping myself to more of Jason Mandrino's moonshine while trying to ignore the hate-infused glances Mallory was tossing my way every few minutes.

In any case, Mallory took off after Jimmy after she'd taken a picture of me sandwiched between my two favorite Pontiac boys, who were both caked in mud.

"So..." I said, following Mallory with my eyes. "How was Nashville, Jase, you never told us."

"Ah, it was great," he beamed, almost wistfully.

I finished sending our picture to Micki and looked up at him, then over at Talyn and back. "What all did you get into?"

Jason laughed nervously. "My buddies took me up to...well...my one buddy's brother is the bass player for a dude named Will Hoge, and they needed an opening act...for their opening act...and so they volunteered me, and—"

"You sing?" I had no idea my friends were all so musical.

"Are you kidding me? This guy sang in the shower after every game. He was like a goddamn jukebox in there," Talyn exclaimed.

"What?" I couldn't believe that. I'd never heard him sing before. "Play something for us! I want to hear!"

"But I—"

"Talyn's got a guitar in his truck," I offered, negating his only possible argument.

Jason looked at Talyn and smirked. "I'll sing if he does."

Talyn rolled his eyes. "Fine. One song."

"Yes!" I cheered, almost spilling the remnants of my drink.

"Come on, SF, let's go get the guitar," he sighed in resignation.

"Ooooh," Jason teased as we set out away from the crowd, still buzzing about 'that vintage Talyn Parrish hail-Mary at the end there.'

I looked over my shoulder and glared, albeit jokingly, at Jason. Talyn laughed at me.

"Having fun, SF?"

I smiled. "I am. Thanks."

We walked in silence around to the far side of Talyn's truck.

"You want me to get it?" I asked, looking him over. "I mean, so you can let some of that mud dry before you get in?"

He looked down at himself. "God, I'm filthy."

I laughed again, opening the driver's side door and climbing in. I lugged the guitar case out and handed it to Talyn. He sat it gently on the ground, then reached back up for me.

I looked at him quizzically, then slid out of the truck, allowing him to guide me down to the sticky ground by my waist.

Maybe it was the moonshine that made me a little lightheaded, but looking into his emerald eyes, I had my doubts about alcohol being the only contributing factor.

Talyn stepped a little closer. "I've wanted to kiss you all night."

I bit my lower lip.

"Nobody's lookin.'"