Page 58 of Love Me Steadfast
I try to be casual when I slip in next to Charlotte. She’s walking fast, like always—even in that skirt—her boots tapping the pavement. “You guys sounded really good.”
She flashes me a smile. “Thanks for coming, QB.”
I laugh at the silly nickname she likes to taunt me with. “Of course. Think I’d miss your big night?”
“Big? Ha.” She laughs. It’s high and flighty, like those jitters she told me about are still working through her bloodstream. “There were like two dozen people in the audience.”
“It’s a start, though, right?”
She scoffs. “I was so nervous, but Morgan was a force up there. I just lassoed her star and hung on for dear life.”
“Did you write that song with the violin?”
“Crosby helped a little.”
Hearing his name is like a bucket of cold water to my face. What’s worse, he practically skips over. He and Charlotte start volleying compliments at each other, to the point that I feel sick.
Five minutes later, we’re crowding into the diner’s entrance, the scent of French fry grease and sweet apples heavy in the air. The tables along the left wall are low-backed booths with built-in bench seats. The adults file into the closest table and the rest of us migrate toward the next open one closer to the back. I manage to slip in next to Charlotte, with Theo and Crosby across from us, and Emmie, Wren, and Morgan crowding in. It’s a tight squeeze but nobody seems to mind—including me.
Charlotte’s thigh presses against mine. For all the time I’ve spent with her, this is as close to her as I’ve ever been. Including that stick shift lesson in my truck. I so badly wanted to kiss her then, and now, with her body heat radiating through our clothes, it takes all of my self-control not to reach for her hand under the table, or wrap my arm across her shoulders.
I want to know what it’s like to kiss her, to pull her close, to be someone she can count on. She and Theo and their dad are all so worried about Morgan…who’s worrying about Charlotte?
We all order milkshakes and fries and the mood is boisterous enough that we get stern looks from the staff and some of the other customers. I keep my hands in my lap, and fold my thumbs into my fists.
A group of kids enters the diner. It’s a group of upperclassmen, two basketball players and two others I don’t know. I give them a nod as they pass. One of the guys does a double take of Morgan. Thankfully, Theo is too busy playing a thumb war with Wren and doesn’t notice.
“Nic thinks Boxcar Doves should record a demo,” Morgan says, oblivious to the guy. “He’s going to be at Creekside for their Midsummer Night’s Jam. He said he could try to get us a spot.”
Across the table from me, Theo frowns. “He said that?”
Morgan’s face lights up. “Yep. He’s got a studio he said we could use.”
Next to me, Charlotte stiffens. “Let’s ask Dad about it first.”
Morgan gives a frustrated huff.
Our milkshakes and fries arrive. “So what’s next for you guys?” Emmie asks Charlotte while squirting a blob of ketchup onto the corner of one of the fries baskets.
Charlotte eyes Morgan. “Nothing with Boxcar Doves, but Morgan and I are singing at a couple of holiday parties.”
Crosby pokes his straw into his milkshake. “Our quartet is performing at the tree lighting downtown, and at the Finn River Inn on Sunday afternoons in December.”
I’m back to clenching my fists under the table. Because every time I picture Crosby spending time with Charlotte, I feel like hitting something.
“That’ll be fun,” Wren says, swiping a French fry through the sauce and popping it into her mouth.
When we’ve scarfed the last fry and our milkshakes are drained,Theo goes to the counter to ask for the check. Because my back is to him, I only hear the grunt of surprise a split second before the unmistakable crack of a fist.
I’m shoving out of the booth and racing over before it registers what I’m about to do. Theo’s just hit a guy—someone from that group that came in earlier—and the three others are caught in surprise.
“That’s my sister, asshole!” Theo yells as the guy barrels into him, pinning him to the wall.
Oh shit. I know I should do something to stop this, but those words are like fuel. Did one of these assholes make some stupid comment about Charlotte? Not that I’m going to take time to ask details right now—Theo needs me.
Screams and shouts fill the air as I grab the guy and yank him back.
He whirls around but someone out of sight grabs my shoulder and tries to tear me away.
