Just a Little Faith (32 page)

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A rumble of thunder rolled in the distance, and both Sergei and I looked skyward. Fast moving clouds hid the moon. A roof covered half the amphitheater but not our seats in the farthest reaches of the venue. Sting had finished his first set, and I was regretting not bringing my rain slicker.

Sergei rose from the long bench. “Do you want a soda or anything?”

“I'll take a bottle of water.” I reached into my jeans pocket for the cash I'd stashed.

He waved away the money. “I've got it.”

I smiled as I watched his long legs take him down the packed aisle. I hadn't been on a date in so long that I'd forgotten how nice it was having a guy do the little things like fight the crowd for concessions and . . .
Wait a second
. I shook my head.
This isn't a date, remember?
Just because Sergei opened his car door for me and wiped the dirt off my seat at the amphitheater didn't mean our outing was anything more than friendly.
He was being polite.

The smell of popcorn wafted past me as people returned from the concession stand and climbed into our row. Sergei came back with two bottles of water and handed me one.

“This is definitely the best concert I've been to,” he said.

“I saw U2 a few years ago in Boston, and they blew me away.” I paused, and Sergei raised an eyebrow. “But so far, this is even better.”

A lone raindrop plopped on my nose, and my eyes drifted to the sky again. “I think we're about to get drenched.”

A few more drops fell, and Sergei said, “If it gets too bad, we can leave if you want.”

“No way. I don't wanna miss any of the show. Unless you're afraid you're going to melt?” I bit my bottom lip to stifle a smile.

He laughed. “No, I can handle it.”

The drops soon increased to a steady drizzle and pelted us on and off through the rest of the show. I sang along to every song while the rain coated my lips. Next to me, Sergei patted his leg in time to the beat of each tune, and every now and then, his arm bumped mine. His skin felt warm despite being wet, and with each touch my arm tingled.

By the time Sting finished his second encore, my navy T-shirt clung to me and my hair was soaked, but I was too awed by the music to care. I peeked at Sergei, and his short golden brown hair had darkened from the rain, making his blue eyes stand out even more. We moved with the thick crowd to the parking lot and had just hopped into Sergei's SUV when the drizzle became a downpour.

“We got out of there right in time,” I said.

“You mean you wouldn't want to sit outside in this? What, afraid you would melt, Emily?”

I laughed. “Oh, I could've handled it.”

The windshield wipers slapped back and forth, drowning out the classic rock on the radio. Sergei turned on the heater and drove slowly until we reached the interstate and pointed south to the Cape.

“I'm so glad we came,” he said. “He sounded amazing live.”

I combed my fingers through my hair, unknotting the long, damp waves. “I know. I'd see him again in a heartbeat.”

“Next time he comes, we'll have to get tickets early so we can be closer to the stage.” He shot me a smile. “And out of the rain.”

“Definitely.” I returned his smile.

A shiver sped down my spine at the thought of spending another evening with Sergei. I didn't know if I was still on a high from the concert, but being in the dark car with him was heightening all my senses. I'd always thought he was attractive, but only now did I notice how his smile softened the sharp angles of his face, how sexy my name sounded in his Russian accent, how his T-shirt hugged his lean yet muscular chest.

I gulped and set my eyes on the highway in front of us.
You need to put those thoughts out of your mind right now.

 

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