Last To Know

19

Griffin shrugged. "It's in the past. Can I get you guys anything?"

Maddox looked to me.

"I'll have an iced coffee." I reached into my bag for my wallet.

"I'll have the same," Maddox told him, reaching for his own wallet in his back pocket.

I was determined to beat him. He was always treating me, now it was my turn. I bumped him with my hip, hard enough that he stumbled and dropped his wallet.

"Here," I handed Griffin a ten dollar bill.

The older man chuckled. "I like you."

"Jesus, Em," Maddox grumbled, wiping dust off his wallet, "I think you gave me another bruise."

I laughed. "Sorry, I had to."

Griffin handed me my change and went to make our drinks.

"I would've bought it," he grumbled, sliding his wallet back in his pocket.

"I know you would've," I assured him. "But I wanted to get this."

He mumbled something under his breath about me being so damn bossy sometimes. My lips lifted in a smile.

Griffin handed over our drinks and I followed Maddox to a table in the back corner that was partially hidden by a wall.

The coffee shop was fairly busy, but not as crowded as it was on open mic night. I'd come with Sadie once and the place had been packed with little room between bodies.

I began to fidget with nerves—first tugging on the ends of my hair, and then playing with the straw wrapper. I knew it was only a matter of time before Maddox dragged me onto the small stage and all the people here heard our song.

Maddox seemed equally as restless. He sat drumming his fingers against the top of the table. Then again, Maddox was always drumming or tapping on something.

"Can we get this over with?" I finally hissed.

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "We're singing a song, not going to the dentist. You don't just get it over with. You have to wait until it feels right."

"In that case, this doesn't feel right. I think we should leave."

I started to stand, but he grabbed my arm to keep me from running away. "Not so fast."

I sat back down. "What if people hate it?" I asked him, letting him see just how much that thought worried me.

He leaned forward with a contemplative look. "The way I see it, there are always going to be the ones that love you and the ones that hate you—let's face it, people love to tear others down, but as long as you're confident within yourself then nothing else matters."

"I was talking about the song, not myself," I countered.

He grinned, stifling a chuckle. "The same principle applies. If you're confident with the song, what others think shouldn't matter to you."

Why did he always have to be right? It was annoyingly unfair.

I squared my shoulders and jutted my chin out. "I believe in our song."

"I believe in you." He stood up and kissed my cheek before nodding towards the stage.

He didn't need to say anything. I knew this was it.

I followed him to the stage. There weren't any drums, but there was a guitar and a keyboard. Maddox picked up the guitar and sat on a stool, pointing at the keyboard for me.