Page 61 of Flirting with the Scrooge

I giggle. “Mine. I have condoms.”

“Good call.” Then he’s practically sprinting down the sidewalk with me on his shoulder to get to my house.

THIRTY

TAKE THE STAGE

Connor

“Where are we going?” My breath forms a delicate cloud in front of me.

After our night together, I couldn’t stay long with her snuggled into my chest, even though that’s all I wanted to do. Instead, I had to get up early to finish packing the last of Grams’ things. That afternoon I got a text from Tatum, telling me to be ready at seven because she’s taking me out on a date.

“It’s a surprise, remember?” Her mitten covered hand clasps around mine as she drags me down the frosty sidewalk. The snow piled on either side of us glitters like diamonds from the streetlight. People bundled in scarves, knit hats, and cozy jackets shuffle past us, their laughter carrying in the wind.

Bending down so only she can hear, I say, “Like a sexy surprise? I like those. But we could do that back at my place.”

She stops and whirls around, and I almost knock her over. Her hand rests on her hip as she narrows her eyes, but her sexy smirk gives her away. “No. This is something different.”

“That’s a shame. My idea would be fun.”

She sighs but continues tugging me behind her. We come to a stop in front of Roasters. Another couple moves past us, up the stairs, and through the glass door. The faint sound of someone singing echoes out into the street.

I halt in my tracks. “Um. What is this?”

“Okay. So don’t hate me, but also you don’t have to participate if you don’t want to. But I thought it might be fun to come out here and watch other people perform during open mic night. There will be a little of everything. Musical acts, comedians, and whatever else. Maybe it would make you less hesitant to get in front of people.” Her big blue eyes plead with mine as she cups my hand with both of hers.

I glance at her and then at the double doors to Roasters. It might be fun to see people perform for a bit. She said I don’t have to get on stage. I drop my gaze to Tatum. “Okay. But we sit in the back.”

She squeals with delight and drags me up the stairs and through the doors. Off to the left there’s an open area with tables that lead to a small stage. Colored spotlights shine down on a young man who’s sitting on a stool. “Old Town Road” by Lil Nas X starts playing through the floor speakers flanking the stage. He pulls out two wooden spoons. Slowly, he taps the spoons against one hand. He does it again but rolls them over his fingers. Every movement from his palms to his fingers to his wrist, are all precisely controlled. He raps the spoons on this thigh to add a unique sound into the mix, then strums them down his fingers. I’m frozen in place, absolutely mesmerized by the movements and the sounds. When the song is over, the crowd rises to their feet and claps their hands. Next to me, Tatum enthusiastically claps. Her gaze shifts to mine, a face-splitting grin covers her face, then I join her.

We find an empty table at the far right of the stage. I pull out her chair and she takes a seat. Instead of taking the chair opposite of hers, I pull it around the round table and place it next to her. Once I’m seated, I wrap my arm around her back, resting it on the top of her chair. My fingers draw lazy circles on her shoulder.

The announcer steps up to the podium, he glances down at a piece of paper and welcomes the next performer. Over the next thirty minutes we watch a mime performance, which was more entertaining than expected, a couple of people read a variety of poems, and a woman played a very impressive cover of the “Shape of You” by Ed Sheeran on the violin.

I lean over and whisper, “That could have been you.”

She throws her head back in laughter. I can’t help the smile that covers my face just from her sweet sound.

“Not in a million years. There’s no way I could have done that.”

“You’re underestimating yourself, Tinsel.” Her gaze shoots my way and I wiggle my eyebrows.

The announcer calls up the next act and a guy who appears to be in his mid-twenties climbs up onto the stage with a guitar strapped to his back. The wood stool scrapes across the stage as he pulls it toward the microphone stand before sitting. His hands shake as he adjusts the microphone so it’s at the perfect height. He clears his throat, the screech of feedback reverberates through the room. Quickly, he pulls away and winces. When the noise dissipates he grips the mic again.

I know exactly how he feels because I’ve been in his position many times. You’d think each time it would get easier, but it doesn’t.

After he collects himself and regains his composure, he says, “I’m Nate and I’m going to play an acoustic cover of “Through the Darkness” by Onyx Stone.”

My heart stops. Tatum glances up at me. I’m sure to see my reaction. When he strums the first few chords, a smile tugs at my lips. He hits the progression like a professional. The music flows through me and I feel at home. He plays the entire song and sings the lyrics without missing a beat. Holy shit, he’s good. Fuck. He could replace me on the next tour and no one would even know. When he finishes, the crowd cheers and he returns to his seat a few tables in front of us. Two more acts perform before they announce a short break. Tatum excuses herself to use the restroom. I glance behind me and once she’s out of eyesight, I push my chair back and rush up to the kid with the guitar.

“Hey, Nate.” He glances my way. “Sorry to bother you. You were really fucking awesome up there.”

“Thanks.” His face lights up.

“I have a favor. Would I be able to borrow your guitar? I wasn’t planning on performing tonight, but your song really inspired me. Plus, my girlfriend is here.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s cool.” He lifts his guitar case, sets it on the table, and unlatches it. He flips open the top and passes me his Martin Grand Performance acoustic guitar.

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