Good Time Bad Boy by Sonya Clark

pay him back.” Megan maintained an angelic expression behind her beer bottle.
    Daisy was having none of it. “He’s a performer. That’s all that was.” She’d told herself that countless times since Thursday night. The way he’d stared at her during that last song...it meant nothing. Just a combination of bedroom eyes and a deep voice and a sexy song. Although when the hell did she start thinking country songs could be sexy?
    “From what I heard he’s a pretty damn good performer.” Megan winked. “On stage. That’s all I’ve heard.”
    “Stop it.”
    “Any time you want to fill out the picture. Evaluate his performance in other areas.”
    “Megan Louise Hollister.”
    “Daisy Jane McNeil.” Megan pointed discreetly in the direction of the yard’s side gate. “You have to admit, he is pretty good looking.”
    Casually, Daisy shifted her stance so she could see Wade as he entered the Travers’ back yard. “I wouldn’t call him good looking.”
    More like devastatingly handsome, but she’d be keeping that thought to herself. All the nerves that had been in evidence the first night he performed at Rocky Top were gone now. He was relaxed and comfortable, filling out his Wranglers and tight t-shirt very nicely. No hat today, which allowed the soft summer breeze to play with his thick, dark hair. An easy smile lit his face as he greeted people. She watched him closely as he made his way through the crowd, curious just how much of this was a performance. Finally she decided it was mostly genuine as he got close enough for her to see that his smile reached his eyes.
    What was it like to know you were constantly being watched and evaluated? That you couldn’t put a toe out of place without incurring the wrath of gossips. Suddenly she felt guilty for observing him so closely and she turned her gaze to the ground.
    “He drove one of the busboy’s home last night when his brother didn’t show up,” Daisy said.
    Megan gave her a curious glance. “Sounds like he’s got some nice guy in him, too. Have you talked to him much?”
    For some reason Daisy was reluctant to answer. “He asked me who my favorite country singer was last night.”
    Megan laughed. “Did you tell him you hate country?”
    Daisy shrugged. “I just told him I didn’t know any.” And then he’d left her alone, only exchanging polite pleasantries the rest of the night. She’d quietly stewed in disappointment for the rest of the evening. “I should tell him thank you.”
    “I would if it were me,” Megan said. “But all jokes aside, a simple thanks is enough. If he feels differently, I think we can probably get his brother to kick his ass.”
    “I don’t think he’s like that.” She handed her half-empty beer bottle to Megan. “But I guess I’m about to find out.” She didn’t wait for a reply.
    Wade stood in the middle of a group of people. Daisy reconsidered briefly, then decided to get it over with. She hated feeling obligated to anyone. She marched right up to him through the group and lightly touched his elbow.
    He stopped mid-sentence and smiled at her. “Hi.”
    Her stomach plummeted down to her feet and she blanked for a moment. “Uh, hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?” Then she remembered there were others present. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She looked around vaguely to include all of them in her apology without having to actually make eye contact. Her cheeks were hot and she knew she had to be blushing.
    “That’s fine.” He pointed at a stretch of privacy fence with no one around. “How about we go talk over there?”
    Daisy opened her mouth to speak but the words dried in her throat. One of the women in the group was giving her a look she was long familiar with. It was a look that said, you’re trash and everyone here knows it. Daisy clapped her mouth shut, seething inwardly. She let Wade lead her away, tossing her hair over her shoulder with one hand. Stuck up bitches like that didn’t hate her