Chapter Twenty-Three
Maddox
The air hits hotter than I expected as I shove my hands deep into my pockets. Standing between Beau and Eli, Paige bends over, smiling when she flourishes a penny from the ground, her lips mouthing, find a penny.
My chest twinges as I watch her slide it into her bag, drumsticks poking out of the front pocket like usual. She doesn’t look over when I join them, but she’s close, the scent of her shampoo still in my lungs from seconds ago.
We head down the sidewalk, passing neon signs flickering against the early evening sun low in the sky.
“I won that thing,” Eli beams, genuine pride washing onto his face as he tells Paige about a chili dog contest he’d entered after a show years ago.
“You also threw up in our old van’s heater vent,” Beau deadpans.
“Worth it.”
“No plastic trophy was worth driving two and a half hours back home with that smell,” I mutter, grimacing at the memory.
Eli turns around, walking backward to stick out his lower lip, voice dropping into a mockingly gentle coo. “Aww, is someone still butthurt because he came in fifth?”
Paige laughs, light and effortless, like always, glancing at me over her shoulder. Her eyes crinkle at the sides as she holds mine for half a second before she looks away. Tucking her hair back, her teeth catch on her lower lip as she faces forward again.
I shake my head, not bothering to fire back, and Beau huffs a laugh.
“I could destroy a triple stack right now,” Beau mutters, pulling open the door to the roadside restaurant.
“So could I,” Eli says, eyes lighting up as he follows him inside.
Grabbing the door, I step aside to let Paige through, her shoulder lightly grazing my arm in a way I think is on purpose.
I join the group waiting by the hostess stand, Eli rocking on the balls of his feet, rubbing his stomach as he says wistfully, “Extra pickles, loaded fries, mozzarella sticks, and one of those milkshakes that’s basically a sugar coma in a cup.
” He lets out a salacious groan, his head bobbing as he thinks.
“Definitely chocolate. Wait, peanut butter. No, screw it. Both. Swirl that shit together, baby.”
“You’re disgusting,” Paige says with a scrunched nose.
“Have you ever tried it?” he calls out after her, winking as the hostess waves us forward.
We’re led to a booth in the back, one with worn-in leather seats that’ve seen years of late-night crowds. My fingers twitch with the urge to guide Paige forward, to press my hand to the small of her back as Beau and Eli slide in, but I curl them into a fist instead, letting her move without me.
“Your waitress will be right over,” the hostess says, setting the last menu on the table before disappearing.
Paige reaches for it at the same time I do, and our fingers brush by accident. She pulls back quickly, cheeks tinting pink as I slide the menu to her. My skin tingles, that brief contact lingering for longer than it should.
We’ve managed to go weeks without touching, but suddenly today it’s like I can’t move without grazing her.
Halfway through skimming over the types of comfort food you can practically taste just by reading, a flicker of awareness tugs at the edge of my focus. Glancing up, I kick Beau under the table.
“Look,” I murmur, nodding toward a kid staring at us from across the restaurant.
He’s small, maybe nine or ten, unruly, curly hair sticking out under a Reign Cooper beanie, his shirt hanging long, the sleeves bunched around his wrists.
He glances down, tugging at the front, stretching the fabric taut enough that I can see the logo. Our logo. He looks back up and stares straight into the booth, not subtle, eyes latched on Eli.
“Think we have a fan.” Beau smirks without lifting his eyes from the menu.
“Where?” Eli asks, twisting around and spotting the kid.
His features turn a deep shade of pink, straightening in his seat like he’s trying to play it cool while failing spectacularly.
Especially when Eli grins and gives a big and exaggerated wave.
The kid’s jaw drops, snapping shut immediately, his face lighting up.
He bounces in his seat, head whipping between us and his mom, practically vibrating with excitement.
She leans in, whispers something to him, and they stand, the woman brushing her hand gently over his back, guiding him our way. Although from the way he’s racing over, I think he’s leading her.
“Sorry to bother you,” she says. “We saw you play with Reign Cooper last night. You guys were amazing.”
“This is my favorite shirt,” he explains, tugging it down to show us. “You guys were sooo good. Especially when you played that really fast bit in Finders Keepers.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, holding out my fist. Bumping it, he breaks away with his fingers wide like an explosion. “You like guitars, huh?”
He nods, glancing at Eli. “Yeah, but I want to play bass like you.”
“Hell yeah, little man.” Eli shuffles out of the booth and drops into a crouch. “Bring it in.”
The kid knocks his fist too like a pro.
“So, what’s your name?” Eli asks, perching on the edge of his seat.
“Cole,” he says, eyes shining. “I play drums too… Well, kinda… I’m learning.”
“I think after last night, he’s already coming up with ways to start his own band in our garage,” his mom explains as she watches the interaction with a fond smile.
“I mean, that’s how we started,” Beau says with an approving nod.
“See, Mom? I told you.”
“Hey, anyone got a Sharpie?” Eli asks, thumbing toward Cole’s too-big shirt.
We all pat our pockets, coming up empty. Paige pulls her bag onto her knee, digging through it, grimacing as she shakes her head. I stand and head to the counter, nodding toward the tip jar full of pens.
“Mind if I borrow a few?”
The hostess shrugs. “As long as you bring ’em back.”
I root around, testing a few on the inside of my arm. Two sputter out mid-line, one doesn’t even make a mark, and I toss them back into the jar and grab another, the thick black ink gliding in one smooth, solid line.
“Thanks,” I say, returning to the table and handing Eli the pen.
Paige eyes the ink on my arm, tilting her head with a questioning look.
Eli signs first, then passes the marker around.
One by one, we each scrawl our names, the logo now ringed with our messy signatures.
They’re crooked, not that it matters. Not when the look on Cole’s face is like watching someone light up from the inside.
“So…” Eli grins, cocking his head. “Who’s your favorite?”
Cole squints, his gaze flicking over each of us in turn before landing back on Eli. “I dunno…”
“It’s me, isn’t it?”
“Don’t lie just to feed his ego,” Beau warns, nudging the kid’s arm gently with his elbow.
Cole grins. “Okay, it’s you,” he confirms as Eli throws his hands up in the air, triumphant, silently screaming like he just won the lottery. “But also, her. She’s really cool.”
A smile brightens Paige’s face, warm and genuine, as she holds up her hand for a high-five. “Good answer.”
She smacks her palm against his softly, and unfiltered joy shines from Cole’s eyes as his smile stretches wider.
His mom pulls out her phone. “Would it be okay to get a picture?”
“Of course,” Paige says, shifting as we crowd in, all elbows and shoulders pressed together.
Eli throws up bunny ears behind Cole’s head as Beau rests a hand on his shoulder. Paige and I crouch on either side of him, her hand on the back of the booth, mine tucked in my hoodie pocket.
Cole bounces on his heels, barely keeping still, throwing up a peace sign like he’s done this a hundred times before.
“Thank you so much,” his mom says, smiling down at her phone.
“My friends are going to freak out,” he says, peering over to look at the photo
“Oh yeah? Let’s give them something else to freak out over.”
Winking, I grab Paige’s bag, tugging it out from under the table. Pulling out her sticks, well-worn and taped at the ends, I grab the Sharpie again.
“Sign them,” I say, holding the marker out.
Slowly, she scribbles her name on each stick, blowing gently on the ink to help it dry. Her eyes track me as she hands them back, and I turn, offering them to him.
His mouth drops open. “Are you serious?”
When Paige nods, he takes them, clutching them to his chest like they’re a treasure.
His mom blinks. “Wow, thank you. Really.”
I shrug like it’s no big deal. “We’ve got loads back on the bus.”
I stand, already feeling Paige’s stare, watching me like she’s trying to figure out what just happened. She’s not angry, more…surprised.
Bending slightly, her voice softens as she says, “Those ones are extra special, because they’re the ones I played with during the show you saw.”
“Best. Day. Ever,” Cole says under his breath, rolling the sticks in his hands.
They turn to leave, Cole waving once more as his mother pulls him toward the door, his voice bouncing around the room with excitement.
“So…” Eli says, flopping back into the booth, hands over his stomach. “Are we ordering or what? I’m wasting away over here.”
Beau groans. “Someone get this man a milkshake before he starts gnawing on the table.”
Paige slides back into the seat across from me without a word. But she’s still wearing that look, like she’s seeing me differently and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it.