Page 57 of I Just Want to be Yours

It would have been done.

I wouldn’t have this crushing weight on my chest with the anticipation of saying those three words. I’d be past this milestone that feels like it’s been slowly trying to suffocate me for months. I’d be able to breathe again.

But instead, we’re all sitting with Mya at her table, not sure where else to look but unwilling to give up just yet.

Brian knows. He’s been angry-pacing off to the side for the past thirty minutes—which if you ask me, is probably the least helpful thing he could do at a time like this. Not that what I’m doing is any better. I’ve been sitting in this plastic chair next to Margot, anxiously patting a rhythm on the inside of her knee. Ifeel like fucking Brady with his constant drumming, but I can’t stop.

There aren’t any customers now that everything has settled, and people are enjoying the main show. It’s good because we can all talk freely about what the hell we’re supposed to do now, but at the same time, it sucks because Mya doesn’t have to hide how upset she is. This girl is always bright light and fucking pink clouds, but right now, she’s confused, embarrassed, and angry with herself, and I can see it all too clearly.

Looking over at Margot, I mouth the word “sorry.” It isn’t the first time I’ve done it tonight, but I have to say it again. This is supposed to be our one night together, and instead of having fun, we’re sitting here, staring at a problem we can’t fix. Honestly, Margot and I don’t need to be here. We’re not helping anything. We’ve already looked everywhere we could think to look. But leaving makes me feel like an asshole, so we’ll sit here until the band figures out what they want to do even though Mya has tried to get me to leave at least five times. She’s the only one who knows how important tonight is to me. Hell, she’s the one who made me build it up into something bigger.

Margot gives me a small smile and rubs my back in response. She doesn’t mind. I know she doesn’t. But she isn’t the one who planned an entire night for us.

Mya does this every night without a hitch. Why does tonight have to be the night that something goes astray? I swear, sometimes it feels like the universe is giving us a chance on a silver platter, and other times like it’s doing everything in its power to ruin things.

“I don’t understand,” Mya mutters as she rakes her hands through her pink hair. “I do this all the time. It’s never an issue. I always put the first cash box into one of the boxes when it starts to get full. I would have done the same thing tonight—I know it.”

Brian stops and wipes a hand over his mouth. “But do you remember specifically putting it into the box tonight?”

Mya frowns. “I . . . I don’t know? I think so?”

Brian scoffs and the ice behind it makes me feel even more for Mya. I think he’s harder on her because they’re family. I’ve never seen him act this way toward any of the guys in the band.

“It’s possible someone saw her put it in the box and then took it. They’d have to be sneaky, though. We were both sitting right here all night.” Margot looks at Brian as she talks, and there’s a familiar edge to her voice. I haven’t heard it in a while, but I know when she wants to scold someone for acting like an idiot—because, for a long time, that idiot was me.

I should probably get her out of here. As soon as the headlining band finishes their set, we won’t be able to sit out here as easily, anyway. I attract attention, but so does Dave. He might be older than me, but he’s a good-looking guy, and I think the fans are starting to suspect he’s single.

“Hey!” A petite woman with dark hair says, and I brace myself for the fake smile I’ll have to muster if she’s a fan. When I look over my shoulder, I see her black pants and polo with the venue’s logo on it. She works here. And she’s holding a small metal box in her hands.

Mya jumps to her feet. “Where did you get that?”

The woman grimaces. “Were you looking for it? I’m sorry.” She points to the second merch table. “It was just sitting here, and you were with a customer. I didn’t want anyone to take it, so I picked it up. I was going to give it to you once you were done.” She points over her shoulder with a nervous laugh. “Then everyone and their mother needed something back there, so I tucked it behind the bar for safekeeping. I’m sorry! I should have gotten it to you sooner.”

“No! Are you kidding?” Mya practically jumps with joy. “Someone could have taken it. Thank you!”

The woman smiles, but it’s uneasy as her eyes dart to everyone else in the band. I think we’re all just dumbfounded that the fucking box is back. “Right. Well, have a nice night.” She gives a quick wave before scurrying off to do whatever it is she does.

“I’m so glad it was safe the whole time!” Margot beams up at Mya.

Mya opens the cash box and checks its contents. Her eyes widen like she’s registering how big of a bullet we just dodged. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Brian crosses his arms. With a cocked eyebrow, he says, “So you did leave it on the table.”

Mya’s smile fades, and Dave gets to his feet. “Aw, come on Brian. Give the girl a break. It was an honest mistake. We’ve all made them.”

Brian pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs in disbelief. “It’s a domino effect. She loses that money, there goes the budget for inventory at the next show.”

I can practically see Dave’s hackles rise. “We’ve got the money, Brian. Relax. Even if she lost it, the band can afford to have some T-shirts made.”

“It won’t happen again,” Mya chimes in with a set to her brow as she looks at her uncle similarly to how Dave is looking at him. “I was excited to have Margot here. It probably just threw me off.”

“I’m sure it was just a fluke,” I say to Brian. What’s the guy going to do? Fire his niece after one mistake? She’s been incredible the entire time we’ve been on tour.

Plus, if Brian is as picky as she says, we’d never find a replacement.

Mya nods. “Definitely just a fluke.” Turning to me, she adds, “Now can youplease go?Don’t let me ruin your night.”

I could tell her my plan is already pretty much ruined, but I don’t want to make her feel bad. I turn to Margot. “Ready?”

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