You’ve never been a huge country music fan, so when your best friend convinced you to go to country fest, you were cursing yourself up to when you pulled into the parking lot. You look down at your outfit and suddenly feel insecure as a group of guys wolf-whistle at you two.
"Why did I let you convince me to come?" you ask her.
"Because you love me. C’mon, Y/N/N! You need to get out more! Don’t you want a boyfriend or something?" she questions.
"Hannah, I doubt I’m going to find a ‘boyfriend or something’ in the sea of drunks," you laugh.
"Maybe you’ll find somebody who got convinced to come here as well. Now, let’s get a good spot!
She takes your hand and drags you toward the stage. You shiver from the surprisingly cold air of Tampa Bay. Looking around, you notice that two guys are eyeing you. You cross your arms over your chest and turn back to the stage.
"Why did you give me this outfit?" you hiss.
"You look hot, and you blend in," Hannah replies.
Yeah, well, I’m feeling the complete opposite of hot. I don’t know how short shorts and a cropped tank top make me fit in. The cowboy boots, I understand, you think to yourself.
A few songs in, you decide that you’ve heard enough about drunken love from both the acts and your friend and decide to get a drink. You push your way through the crowd and find the closest concession stand. You search for money when an arm snakes around your waist.
"How ya doin’, pretty mama?" somebody asks, his alcoholic breath making you gag.
"I was doing okay until now," you mumble.
You pay for your water and start to walk away, but you come face to face with the same two guys from the crowd.
"Come with us. You’ll be much better than okay," the other one says with a smirk.
The guy removes his arm from your waist and grabs your wrist. Before they can take you anywhere, another arm goes around your waist, but it isn’t invasive and uncomfortable. It’s gentle and protective.
"He, babe. Are these guys bothering you?" a deep voice with a European accent asks.
They let go of your wrist as you nod your head. The man speaks up again. “Guys, either go home or enjoy the music. Nobody needs to get hurt.”
They nod their heads and rush away. The mystery man turns you around and checks your body for any harm.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
Instead of answering, you simply give him a hug. He’s hesitant at first, but he eventually returns the gesture.
"Thank you," you say when you pull away.
"No problem. Would you mind if I stayed by your side for the rest of the night? I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, and I’m not a huge fan of country, either," he says.
"How’d you know?"
"You aren’t singing along to the music or tapping your foot," he points out.
"Alright, but only if you tell me your name," you decide.
"Victor," he says while holding out his hand.
"Y/N," you say, and the two of you shake.
You shiver as a light breeze hits your exposed skin, and Victor takes his sweatshirt off before placing it around your shoulders. You smile as a wave of his cologne washes over you.
The two of you walk around and tell each other stories about your lives. At one point, Victor started carrying you on his back because your ankle bent in the cowboy boots that aren’t your size. You keep your arms around his neck as you rest your head on his back. He rubs his thumbs back and forth on the outside of your knees, keeping you calm. He suddenly sets you down and lies on the ground, gesturing for you to follow. You smile as you do so, resting your head on his chest as his arm keeps you close. You look up at the stars and admire them, watching them as they twinkle. The two of you continue to talk as you’re completely oblivious of the world around you.
Suddenly, Victor’s face appears above yours. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when you feel his lips on yours. They move together as your mind is cleared by the feeling in your chest.
"I’m sorry. I’ve just been wanting to do that all night," he apologizes.
"Hey, did I push you away?"
When he shakes his head, you kiss him again. He smiles against your lips and pulls your phone out of your pocket. He shows you the screen, and you curse under your breath before answering the call that’s coming in.
"What’s up?" you ask Hannah.
"Y/N, where are you? The concert’s over!" she exclaims.
"Shit!" you breathe. "Meet me at the car, okay?"
She agrees, and you hang up before frowning at Victor. He suddenly takes your phone and types a few things before giving it back. He then picks you up and somehow places you on his back.
When the two of you cross the parking lot, you can’t help but feel sad. You don’t want this night to end. You finally met a guy that could possibly be a boyfriend or something, and as soon as the two of you are really enjoying each other, it has to end.
"Y/N, there you are! What happened?" Hannah asks when she spots you two.
"I twisted my ankle in the boots, so Victor’s been carrying me around," you state.
"We hung out for the majority of the night, so we’ve become close," Victory says with a smile.
"Well, we have to go! You have work tomorrow morning, and you need as much as sleep as you can get."
Victor places you next to the passenger door and lets his hands rest on your hips.
"I’m glad I met you," he admits.
"I am, too. Maybe we can see each other again?" you suggest.
He nods and gives you a sweet kiss goodnight before walking off to find his friends. You look down at your phone and unlock it to see that there’s a new contact open.
Victor
-Emily
