Any Man of Mine // Shania Twain

I'm sitting in the bleachers waiting for the dumb concert to end. This is not my band, and certainly not my music, but I am a good friend so I'm here. Misty is nothing if not quirky, in every aspect of life, and music is no exception. I consider myself open to new experiences, but this is pushing it.

Who in their right mind listens to freaky clowns playing heavy metal? If that is indeed what you can call this crap. I'm here in a plaid flannel and boots. Clown-girl next to me has full face paint and her clothes are practically shredded. How did I get myself into this mess?

Oh, right. I owed her a favor. I need to remind myself never to forget my keys and lock myself out of my apartment at three-thirty in the morning. If Misty hadn't picked me up at zero-Dark-o'clock and let me crash on her couch until my roommate got back from out of town, I wouldn't be surrounded by my worst nightmares. Honestly I don't think I'll be able to sleep for the rest of the year.

It's only June.

"I'm going to the bathroom!" I yell into Misty's ear. I need out of this circus and the bathroom is my only escape.

"What?" she yells back.

"BATHROOM!"

Misty finally nods in understanding and steps back so I can shove my way past more freaky clown fans. They look creepy but at least they step out of my way so I can exit the row.

I finally make it to the stairs. We're in row X, the only tickets either of us could afford on part time salaries. It was a long way down and steep, on top of how high we were. My stomach coils in nerves, not exactly enjoying high places. Especially ones surrounded with, yeah, clowns.

I make it exactly six rows before I lose my balance. I'm sure it's just my perception. I'm not really falling, but I instinctively reach out to grab the rail as I feel that feeling, the one where you know gravity has taken over and your face is about to make friends with the concrete.

My hand misses the rail and I gasp, awaiting the inevitable pain on its way. But I never hit the ground. I never even fall half way. Something has stopped my fall. Something warm and strong.

Something not painted to look like a clown who wanted to eat me.

I look up into the face of my rescuer and audibly sigh. Thank goodness for the decibel level of this atrocious music, because the gorgeous face staring at me would have turned to run the other direction if he had heard my vocal reaction. Tall, brown hair and eyes, a little dimple in his chin...this guy is, wow.

No face paint to be seen on him, or any ripped clothing. Just a sheepskin jacket all buttoned up  with the hint of a white T-shirt peeking out. I quickly glance down to see light washed jeans molded around strong thighs. My heart rate just increased by a thousand.

And he has boots on. I think I'm in love.

Realizing I'm ogling the poor guy, who no doubt has a hot girlfriend ready to knock me out for checking out her man, I look up and gulp. He's still looking at me, a concerned expression on his face. I can't tell if it's been seconds, or dear God, minutes, since the whole thing started and I'm just standing there staring at him. My mouth is open and his hand is still gripping my arm. It's not even making contact with actual skin, but I feel burned.

"Hey, you okay?" he shouts at me, but somehow it sounds more like a verbal caress. Is that a thing? It must be a thing, because I just felt it.

"Yeah," I manage to say, and yes my voice cracks as I say it. The way it does in the early morning when you're just waking up and you haven't had a glass of water yet. That's how he makes me feel. Parched.

"Looks like we might be the only two people here not dressed like murderers," he muses. I'm not actually sure how I'm able to make out anything the guy is saying, but I can. It's weird because Misty couldn't hear a thing I said just moments ago.

Was that just moments? Somehow it feels like days, years even, since I almost fell and hot stranger saved me.

Did I just refer to him as hot stranger?

Yes, yes I did.

"What are the chances?" I say back. Smooth, in my opinion.

"Well..." he says, still holding onto my arm. Our eyes are locked and suddenly I feel tipsy, but I haven't had a drink. I wobble slightly, causing his grip to tighten.

"Whoa, looks like you might need an escort," he says. His darn hand hasn't left my arm and it's searing me with his brand. I'm branded. I'll never be the same again.

Instead of answering him, I just smile and nod my head down the stairs, the direction I'm going. He indicates his understanding by tossing his free hand in the same direction. I once again begin my decent, hot guy following close behind. Too close. I can feel him on my back. He's released my arm but it's ghost still has a tight hold on it. Or is it holding my heart?

Oh my gosh I need to dial down my inner stalker!

Finally, we reach the tunnel leading out of the living nightmare that is this concert. Although it seems my dreams have come true with this hot guy following me, being all concerned about my safety.

What did I just say about dialing down the stalker?

Yeah, not happening.

I look both ways for the bathroom once we emerge from the darkened hall. I'm too short to see over the scores of clown wannabes filling the concession area, waiting in line for more booze. The din of screaming voices, ahem...I mean singing, isn't as overwhelming out here.

"Need some directions?" hot guy asks, still standing just a little too close for me to be able to breathe quite right.

"Bathroom?" I manage.

He looks over the crowd, seemingly for the restroom signs. The light is better out here and I'm finally able to get a good look at him.

Oh.my.sweet.Lord.

I literally can't look at him. He's too gorgeous, too chiseled, too...just every romance novel adjective possible. I look back into the hallway to avoid the heart attack I most certainly will have from looking directly at him. Like looking at the sun. Except that will blind you, which I think is also a legitimate possibility in his case.

Wow.

"Down this way," he says and takes me by the hand, pushing our way through the terrible masses. I don't even know his name but I'm positive if he asked me to bear his children I would say yes.

I think I'm creepier than all of these freaking clowns.

We make it to the restrooms and I start to head into the women's room. Hot guy gets my attention once again, just before I round the corner of the entrance.

"I'll be waiting."

Holy crap.

I think I might pass out in this bathroom. Why in heck is he waiting? Who is this guy?

I take care of business with lightning speed. Hey, if a hot stranger is waiting for me to come out of the bathroom, I'm not going to delay. Speed is the only option here. I step back into the crowded hall and sure enough, hot guy is right where I left him.

I really need a name. I can't keep referring to him as hot guy. That's just rude. He smiles at me, and I'm able to look at him now. My sight must have adjusted to his good looks.

"Hi again," he says, still smiling.

I take a deep breath and go in for the kill. "Hi. I'm Alison, by the way." I let out my deep breath in relief. I did it. I said my name and didn't pass out.

"Alison," he says appreciatively, slowly. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jeff."

"Nice to meet you, Jeff." I smile. Then once again our eyes lock. The smile is wiped from both of our faces. We're just staring at each other, a heated, toe-curling stare. My self-consciousness takes over and I fill the perfectly charged silence with the dumbest sentence possible.

"Well, I don't want to keep you from...anyone."

Anyone. As in, that hot girlfriend that now wants to kick my ass. Why did I remind him of the better option waiting for him up that staircase? Then he opens his mouth, no doubt to crush my heart with his goodbye.

"Oh, Micah won't miss me. He's probably making out with his girlfriend now that I'm gone. Being a third wheel really sucks, and I don't even like this band."

His speech leaves me speechless. He's a third wheel? In what universe is that even possible?

"Huh." That's all I can come up with, because these things are not part of my life. No hot strangers keeping me safe. No single hot strangers talking with me in a hallway, staying away from his non-single friends.

"You? Need to get back to someone?" Jeff asks. There's a hopeful look in his eye, which can't be possible. He can't be hoping that I'll say "no one."

"Nope. Just my friend. Who's more interested in this awful band than me, so...nope." I shrug. The look on his face nearly knocks me senseless. He looks relieved, as if he can't believe his luck.

You and me both, buddy.

Jeff. His name is Jeff, not buddy.

"So...hungry?" he smiles as he asks.

I smile in return. "Starving."

Jeff takes my hand, which suddenly feels absolutely perfect. Like I've been waiting all my life for him to hold it. Then he leads me back through the crowd to the concession line where we stand hand in hand, arm touching arm, his tall stature complimenting my shorter one. He starts rubbing his thumb back and forth on the back of my hand. It must be absent minded on his part, but my focus is now zeroed in on that spot. He must realize he's doing it because as suddenly as it started, he stops.

I'm not sure what genie granted me which wish, but I plan to go with it as long as possible.

"I think this is the best insane clown metal concert I've ever attended." He smiles down at me.

"You've been to other insane clown metal concerts?" I smirk.

Jeff laughs. "Nope. This is my first one. And just a few minutes ago I was regretting ever setting foot in this venue. But I think listening to my buddy, Micah, was actually a really good idea. I'll never question him again."

A warm glow fills me at Jeff's words. So, he feels this, too? I really did get some wish granted. Far be it from me to question fate or luck or whatever this is. I'm here for it.

Jeff leads me to a table in the corner of the open-air food section. He sets our snack of nachos and funnel cake on the table before taking a seat. The wish I've been granted seems to continue because he takes me by the hand once again and hauls me down to the spot on the bench right next to him. As soon as I'm sitting, he turns to me with wide eyes.

"Oh. Unless you don't want to sit next to me."

It's cute that he's worried. I may have next to zero experience with a guy but I'm not shying away from his interest. Nope. Not this girl who's been friend zoned by every single crush I've ever had.

"Why wouldn't I?" I smile and give a subtle wink. At least I hope its subtle. I'm not known for subtlety so I might be overselling my skills.

Jeff coughs. "Uh, no reason." He grabs a nacho and munches on it loudly. His original confidence is missing. I don't like that.

"Hey, what happened between the snack stand and this questionably clean table?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-" I throw my leg over the bench so I'm straddling it and looking right at Jeff. "You were all bright lights and smiles when I first bumped into you. And now I'm wondering if you'd rather be slashing the air with your imaginary machete with all the killer clowns over there."

This. This is why I've been friend zoned. My filter is broken, and I've never been able to fix it. Now I've put him on the spot, and he'll be sure to wish he had a hot girlfriend waiting to kick my ass after all. But my mouth has a mind of its own.

"I have a problem."

And there it is. Ugh. Ruined before it could even begin.

"A problem?" Jeff's shoulders shake, a silent chuckle at my awkwardness. He crosses his arms and pins me with a sharp look. "What would that be?"

I shrug. "Ineffective filter. I'm an on-the-brain, out-the-mouth kind of girl." And it kills every good vibe I have with a guy.

"Huh. Well, I think I also have a problem."

I give Jeff the stink eye. He couldn't possibly have the same problem. I've blurted every thought in my head and I have no idea what he's thinking. Pretty much the opposite problem, which isn't a problem. It's normal.

"I'm a play-by-the-book kind of guy," he says. His big confession.

Oh, brother. "Yeah, and? That's not a vibe killer in my book."

"Well, being an open book isn't a vibe killer in mine." He pins me with that serious look, again. "Are you trying to run me off? Cause I thought we had some...sparks."

"No, I'm not. And same. I know we had sparks. But then you got all nervous and I figured I hit your level."

"My level?"

"Your 'I can't take much more of this chick' level."

Jeff leans forward and laughs for a solid minute. I catch him wiping a rogue tear before he straightens up and looks at me.

"I'm not sure I have that kind of level based on the friends I keep. I'm still sitting here, wanting to hang with you, messed up filter or not. Are you willing to deal with my need to follow rules and not push boundaries?"

"Whoa," I put my hands up to stop the dude from continuing. "Who wants their boundaries pushed?"

"Most people I come into contact with these days."

"Well, that's just stupid."

"You're telling me."

I cock my head to the side. "Looks like we agree on something."

Jeff smiles. "Looks like."

"So, nachos?"

"Absolutely."

"Then..."I glance back at the tunnel entrance to the concert. "Clown death metal?"

"Absolutely not. Walk to the creek and get to know each other better?"

I smile. This festival just got a five-star rating in my book. "Absolutely."

And they've met!! Okay I know this was a bit of insta-love but stick with me because if you know me, you know its never roses and sunshine forever. Stuff will occur, problems will arise, THINGS TO OVERCOME. If you've read Finding Cinderella by Colleen Hoover, with the best ever and perfectly executed insta love romance, that's where I was going here.

Full disclosure; I wrote THIS chapter as a standalone, one shot about the trip and fall meet cute a few years ago because I literally tripped going down the stairs at a concert and some guy caught me. No, it wasn't love at first sight. However, I was instantly inspired to write this scene. When I was thinking about Jeff's story, I remembered this scene and realized he was the dude in the boots and button up shirt. It was the perfect opening for him.

Of course there is much more to the story now! So buckle up for the ride! It may just be bumpier than Matt and Hannah's story...yeah I said it.

This song is absolutely Alison's vibe. Her man better be all that and more.

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Broken Lullaby is a duet, if you weren't aware, and the second book, Broken Promises is in the works! We may be looking to have a few more ARC readers when its ready, so let me know if you're interested!