Just as she decided it was too late—past the time the concert was supposed to start—Cassie walked right by her.
Erin didn’t pause before saying her name.
Cassie turned around, grinning when she laid eyes on Erin. God, she was pretty. Erin swallowed. Smiled. Gestured to the seat next to her.
Cassie’s hair was in a braided ponytail. A few strands had come loose, dangling around her face. She was in the same clothes from breakfast, but they were a mess now. Something black was smeared across the front of her plain white T-shirt. She must have wiped the same thing off her hands onto her jeans, streaking along her thighs. She looked like a mechanic after a long day, and Erin’s entire body was suddenly too hot.
Cassie spared a glance toward the front of the auditorium before sliding into the seat beside Erin.
“Hey,” she said, stretching one leg out into the aisle.
Whoops went through the audience as the lights went down. The stage door opened, and the crowd noise rose to a crescendo as the first group walked out.
“You made it just in time,” Erin said.
She was grateful for the timing, actually, as it saved her from small talk. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. She tried to focus on the group onstage, not the way Cassie’s hands fidgeted in her lap, not the sense memory of those hands on her body. The singers were all boys—men—guys. Their opening song was “Billie Jean.”
This didn’t need to be weird. Cassie had promised Erin she’d point out Parker’s crush—how would she do that if they didn’t sit together? That was all this was. There was no reason for Erin to be hyperaware of Cassie’s movements as she did something on her phone, then pulled her canvas jacket closed over her stomach. There was no reason for Erin to want to tell Cassie that she didn’t have to hide the stain on her shirt, that Erin liked the idea of Cassie getting dirty.
Three songs went by before Cassie said anything else. And when she did, it was: “Sorry if I stink.”
Erin tried not to laugh. What a way to start a conversation.
“I was in the shop all day,” Cassie continued. “Didn’t have time to get all dolled up.”
Her eyes flicked to Erin’s chest. Erin wore a V-neck that showed a hint of cleavage, but it was still just a T-shirt—she was hardly dolled up. The attention made her bold. She dragged her eyes up Cassie’s body.
“You are a little dirty, aren’t you?”
Honest to God, Cassie’s jaw dropped.
Erin turned back to the stage instead of giggling. She felt like a schoolgirl. Like she was flirting with someone for the first time, giddy and fluttery.
Cassie didn’t reply, but she relaxed in her seat, her foot shifting a little closer to Erin’s. Close enough for Erin to have noticed, but not close enough to be an explicit move. They both had plausible deniability.
They stayed not quite touching for the rest of the first performance. The second group to the stage was Parker’s—the Sky High Notes. Cassie sat up straight, put two fingers in her mouth, and wolf whistled. It was loud enough that Erin laughed, delighted. Cassie slid her a grin, and Erin made a decision.
As Sky High Notes started their first song—a Disney medley Parker had gushed about on their past three Sunday phone calls—Erin adjusted in her seat, her thigh pressing against Cassie’s.
There went plausible deniability.
They should have done this during the previous group’s performance. It probably made it worse to touch Cassie while Parker was onstage. But it gave Erin an extra little thrill. Her whole life, she’d followed the rules. Maybe she would’ve been more of a rebel if she’d realized breaking them would feel this good.
In the break between songs, Cassie interlaced her fingers and stretched her arms in front of herself, palms out. She cracked her neck.
“Ouch,” Erin said. “Is that normal?”
“Long day in the shop. Just a little sore. Do you mind?” Cassie settled her arm around Erin’s chair.
“Not at all.”
By the end of the next song, Erin’s back was pressed into the curve of Cassie’s arm.
“Parker says she’s got a mini solo in this next one,” Erin said.
Cassie nodded. “That’s a big deal for a freshman in her first concert.”
Parker was good at everything she’d ever done. Erin was so proud of her, even while she also wished Parker would slow down. Not grow up so quickly, not push herself so hard. Erin knew her daughter could do anything, but she wanted her to justbefor a while.