*I do not own the music referenced in this chapter.

The beat of the music thumped loudly in my ears as we approached. Most people paid no attention to us as we walked toward the group gathered by the lake. Tables filled with pots and pans of food lined the walkway toward the giant bonfire that was sectioned off to avoid any drunken mishaps.

The last thing anyone needed before Valentine's Day was singed eyebrows.

"Quite a turnout," I murmured as we approached the food table. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Violetta scanning the crowd, most likely looking for rogue paparazzi. I reached out and squeezed her hand.

She jumped, but when she realized it was me, she squeezed back. "Is it normally this many people?"

I shrugged. "Hard to say. I haven't been in a few years, but it gets more and more popular every year." I glanced at her expression as she kept her gaze on the crowd around us. "Does it bother you?"

"Ironic, huh?" Violetta shook her head. "No, I'm just not used to being around so many people with the ability to slip away easily unnoticed." She gestured to our surroundings.

While we were here, along with what seemed like the entire population of Asheville, there were plenty of easy escapes. The night air was cool and refreshing along my skin. To our left was the food and drinks; to our right the lake with plenty of paths to take if we needed a break.

"C'mon, let's go get something to eat." I led her to one end of the table with staples of the bonfire, from pulled pork and fried chicken to mac-and-cheese and hushpuppies. We filled our plates then found seats on an empty log on the far side of the lake.

"And you eat this on a regular basis?" she asked, sounding more impressed than judgemental.

"Yep." I grinned, taking a bite of my fried chicken. "These are Southern staples." Grease coated my fingers, and I licked my lips. Ah, good ol' Southern fried chicken.

Violetta spun her fork around in the macaroni, scooping up a decent portion before lifting it to her mouth. When she pulled it away, there were cheese strings dotting her lower lip.

"You have a little, um," I said, gesturing to her lip.

"Oh!" Her hand flew to her mouth as she used her tongue to try and flick the cheese back up toward her mouth. "Did I get it?"

"Er, not really. Try again." I stifled a giggle as Violetta's tongue wiggled around outside of her mouth, earning us raised eyebrows from some of the other passers-by.

Tension released in my shoulders. Maybe it was the fact that it was getting dark or everyone was buzzed, but no one seemed to notice that Violetta was among the lay people of Asheville, enjoying a night out.

She whacked my arm when she realized that it was all just a tease and she was in fact making no progress whatsoever. "That's not helping!" Her lips broke into a smile despite the embarrassment that flushed her cheeks. "Ugh, can you imagine the headlines if a paparazzi saw me right now?"

I spread my hands out above my head dramatically. "Violetta Dawson, actress, caught eating macaroni and cheese! Critics outraged by dairy endorsement!"

Violetta giggled. "These hushpuppies refuse to be silent after spotting Violetta Dawson, age 27, eating the most Southern staple: fried chicken."

"Good one." I snorted. "I'm gonna go get us some drinks. Want anything?"

"I'll take mango schnapps if they have it," she replied.

"Coming right up!" I jumped to my feet and jogged over to the drink table where I was met with a familiar face.

"Look who it is, Reaggie Pop!" the man behind the table greeted me. He wore a tight fitting black t-shirt and his shaggy brown hair continuously fell into his eyes, earning a shake of his head to free his sight. "Been a while, Reags, how've you been?"

"Doing well," I replied. "I'm glad to be back this year."

"We've definitely missed you. You look well."

"Probably this vacation." I laughed. "Seems to look good on me, don't you think?"

"Absolutely." He turned his attention back to the drink table. "What can I get for you tonight?"

"Mango schnapps," I replied, eyeing the colorful array of liquid and jello-filled shot glasses that lined the table. "Two of them.

"Comin' right up!" He grabbed two of the shot glasses that were tinted an orange-y color with a gummy lifesaver on top that had been artfully shaped into a pair of lips. "Whoever you're with tonight, they must be pretty special." He jutted his head toward Violetta.

I turned around, catching her eye. There was no way he didn't know who she was.

Violetta gave me a small wave before ducking her head again. "She's just a friend," I supplied. "It probably wouldn't work out anyway."

"You never know until you ask." He raised his own shot glass in my direction. "Cheers. I'll see you on the dance floor later. Our tradition, right?"

I laughed, remembering the promise I made to him every year. "See you out there." With my alcohol in tow, I walked back to Violetta.

"You looked pretty cozy over there," she commented, studying her nails. "Who was that?"

"Just an old friend." I sat down next to her and handed off one of the jello shots. "Ready?"

She nodded. We tapped our plastic shot glasses against the log before lifting them up. My tongue swirled around the mango and peach flavored jello, scooping it up and savoring the taste of the liquor. The immediate buzz sent a sharp shiver down my spine.

"Mm, now that's some good shit." Violetta leaned back, tilting her head toward the sky. It was still early, but the sun started to set over the mountains in the distance. It produced an orange halo that made the peaks glow as the sky turned from Carolina blue to sunset red to indigo speckled with starlight.

The music thumped around us, keeping in time with my heartbeat. I watched Violetta sway to the music, her eyes closed and her lips mouthing the words to the random pop songs that played from the DJ.

"Her name was Marianne," I blurted. "My ex, the reason I don't...the reason I haven't come out here in two years."

Violetta sat up on the log.

I stared down at my hands. "This is the first vacation I've taken in forever. I don't talk with a lot of people outside of work. Who you saw me talking to over there, his name is Conrad. He's her older brother. The three of us grew up together in a small town not too far from here. I haven't talked to his family in two years."

"Wow. I-I had no idea," she said.

"It wasn't relevant before." I tucked some loose hair from my ponytail behind my ears.

"Jess," she told me. "But you probably already knew that." She laughed. "Everyone knew that. His real name was Jessup Collins, but to me he was just Jess. My Jess."

"It hasn't been that long, right?" I asked. "The breakup?"

Violetta shook her head. "'Long' is a relative term in the celebrity world. We've been over for a while, but I've tried to keep the break-up out of the spotlight for as long as I could. But the minute Jess made his new relationship official, everything went public."

I shuddered. "And that article painted you as the bad guy."

"I do admit, I have regrets," she said. "Still, sometimes I wish for less fame and less attention. Like, you just seem to get along with everyone so well and I'm just...me. I'm not what people expect."

"Why's that such a bad thing?" I shook my head. "You're great, Vi. Truly, you are. I wouldn't be sticking around if I didn't think that."

She squeezed my hand. "Then show me how your side lives."

My lips twitched into a smile, and I pulled the both of us to our feet as the music shifted.

"Alright, this is a shout to all my lovely singles out there on the dance flo'. Grab a partner and get ready to get down and do yo' dance!" the DJ's voice boomed over the mic.

Violetta and locked eyes, releasing matching groans. I knew we had no choice as I dragged her to the center of the dance floor with me but not before we each downed another jello shot.

"I don't know this one!" she shrieked as Cupid started to sing the opener.

Down, down, do your dance, do your dance.

"Just follow me!" I grabbed her hands so she was facing me. As the words started, I began light steps to my right with matching sways of my hips.

Now kick, now kick...

Still holding onto Vi, we lifted opposite feet being careful not to kick each other in the shins, followed by raising our linked hands in the air and twisting around in a 360 spin. Despite our height difference, we managed to succeed in the full spin with little struggle, only laughing at the stares we got from the fellow dancers.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" the DJ called out to us as the song continued to play.

To the right, to the right...

And off we went again. As the music continued, the alcohol started to take over. The kicks became sloppier, sending us into a laughing fit about the Rockettes and cheer fliers. Our giggles became louder. Spins merged into flailing limbs. By the time the song ended, we were both out of breath, our cheeks tinged pink from the exertion.

The next song started, a nice country tune talking about the sweetness of summer sex that had us screaming at the top of our lungs and shaking our asses without a care in the world. The sky grew darker, our voices grew hoarser, but the warmth that shone in Violetta's eyes as we danced the night away was infinite.

And way too soon, the bonfire came to an end. The DJ thanked us all for participating and left us with a parting message to enjoy the time with our loved ones and with ourselves as Valentine's Day comes upon us.

Violetta stumbled over her boots, still giggling. Her face gleamed with sweat, and even I was ready to peel off my sweater and tumble into bed in my cozy t-shirt. "I think it's time to call it a night," she said, her words beginning to slur together. "Let's head back?"

I nodded, my head fuzzy from the alcohol. We linked arms and walked back in the direction of the hotel. The lobby was considerably empty, as it was a Friday night. Most people were probably out celebrating the upcoming holiday or out at the bonfire.

"That was really the most fun I've had in a really long time," Violetta commented when we finally made it back to the hotel room. After several tries of impaired hand-eye coordination, I finally got the keycard to work in the door.

Stupid key slot.

"Me too, I'm glad you had fun." I collected my pajamas, holding them close to my chest as I rocked on my heels. "I'm gonna get ready for bed. The alcohol has hit hard."

Violetta nodded. "I'll change in my room and be back."

Once she was gone and the adjoining door between our rooms was closed, I stripped out of my sweater and jeans. The air from the heater by the window swept past my bare legs. Despite the cooler air outside and the warmth of the hotel room, sleeping in just my band tee and underwear seemed like the best approach tonight.

"Knock, knock," Violetta called out.

I undid my hair from its ponytail, letting it fan out over my shoulders as I opened the door to let Violetta back in. My cheeks flushed as I took in her appearance. She was wearing a pale pink nightgown that matched the robe from when we first met yesterday.

Wow. Was it really only yesterday?

"Hey," I said.

"I hate to be a bother, but it looks like Baxter didn't come through with the rollaway." Violetta teetered in the doorway. "Is that offer for the futon still available?"

"Sure thing."

"Thanks." She bit her lip, eyes scanning over me, then sauntered into the room.

I climbed under the covers and watched Violetta do the same with the couch, listening to the squeak of the futon as she settled in. Laying on my back, I stared up at the ceiling.

"Rea?" Violetta called out softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I made you sleep on the futon last night." She shifted, and the futon squeaked again.

I smiled even though I knew she couldn't see me in the dark. "It's ok." Silence took over the room, broken only by the sound of the heater. "It's a lot more comfy up here, do you wanna join me?"

A soft grunt followed by Violetta's pink silhouette crawling under the covers and tucking herself into my embrace. I rested my arm along her side but she carefully picked up my hand and draped it over her stomach.

"Goodnight, Rea." she murmured. Her curtain of auburn hair hid her face.

I snuggled closer, breathing in the scent of her perfume that still lingered on her skin. "'Night, Vi."