I folded my arms over my chest. “Yes. Drive. And no more crazy talk of babies.”
He leaned across the car. “You’re all I need, doll.” And his lips found mine.
* * *
I banged the door of my apartment closed behind me and rushed down the steps. I was angry. We’d been back in Thomas for a month, long enough for me to get caught up on all my classes. I’d taken my last final exam earlier that afternoon. I’d come back to the apartment, hoping to celebrate with Griffin.
And then we’d gotten in a fight.
A bad fight.
We’d never fought like that before. Not once.
I made my way downtown, seething, turning over things he’d said to me, feeling angry about them, thinking of the perfect come back. I wished there was some way I could go back in time and tell him off, because I obviously hadn’t done it right the first time.
How dare he say things like that to me?
The jerk.
I went into The Purple Fiddle, made my way to the counter, and ordered a beer. The Holy Ghost Tent Revival was playing tonight, and they were setting up. That was part of what we’d argued about. I loved this band. They were high energy. They had brass musical instruments. They wore suspenders and button-up shirts. They sang harmonies together into their microphones when they weren’t jumping all over the stage. I wanted to see them.
And then he’d accused me of all kinds of stupid things.
I screamed at him. We weren’t in danger anymore. We were safe. I could go see a band and drink some beer if I wanted. He didn’t have to stop me from having a life.
But as I sat down to nurse my drink, watching the band do their sound tests, I didn’t feel vindicated for coming out on my own. I only felt lonely. I’d wanted to share this band with Griffin. I’d wanted to show him something fun and normal, since he’d lost so much of his life to violence and fear.
How had that turned into yelling at him? It should have been a good thing. Now, it all felt ruined.
My anger was draining away. I mostly felt sad now. I wished I could take back half the things I’d said. I fiddled with the salt shaker on the table. It was the male half of a pair of kissing hippies. The girl was the pepper. I pulled them away from each other, so that they stood back to back.
Now even the salt and pepper were fighting.
I sighed. Seeing this band wasn’t going to be worth it without Griffin. I’d wonder about him all night. I couldn’t be out here while he was at home. I couldn’t have fun if things weren’t right between us. I needed to apologize.
I got up. I wouldn’t get to finish my beer, but that was okay. I carried it back to the counter and set it down.
“Something wrong with that?” asked the guy working.
“No,” I said. “It’s fine. I just have to go.”
The door to The Purple Fiddle opened and Griffin walked in.
I ran to him. “Griffin, I was just coming to—”
“I was out of line, doll,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I am. I shouldn’t have said the stuff I did.”
“It’s okay,” he said.
“Is it?” “Yes.” He fitted one of his hands behind my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. He kissed me thoroughly, right there in the doorway. I felt the kiss everywhere, from the top of my head to the ends of my toes. My limbs went shaky. I had to hold onto him to stand upright.
He broke the kiss, but we were still close.
“Let’s never fight again?” he murmured.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Will we always kiss like that afterwards?”
He chuckled, winding his arm around me and walking with me into the Fiddle. “So, this band isn’t religious?”
“Ma’am?” said the man at the counter. “You still want your beer?”
“Thanks,” I said, scooping it up. I looked up into Griffin’s gray eyes. “You’re going to love the music. And I’m going to make you dance.”
He cringed. “I don’t know about that.”
I smiled up at him. “If you love me, you will dance.”