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“I have to grab my guitar,” he said, jogging around to the trunk. I stood rooted in my spot. I stared at my feet, willing them to move, but they were frozen. “Move,” I whispered as I glared at them.
“Olivia?” Trace questioned with a raised brow. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I took his extended hand and let him drag me inside.
The coffee shop was large but not quite packed with people…at least yet.
Trace found a table near the stage and plunked down. I took the seat beside him and wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt.
“Breathe, Olivia,” he whispered in my ear.
Oh, right, I was holding my breath. It probably wouldn’t be good if I passed out before I got on stage. I exhaled loudly, giving him a shy smile.
“You’ll do great,” he assured me with a hand on my cheek.
I was glad one of us thought so.
“I don’t even know what to sing,” I chewed on the edge of my fingernail, looking around at the coffee shop. It was decorated like most, with warm colors and pictures of steaming hot cups of coffee.
Trace grabbed my hand, pulling it away from my mouth. “Don’t do that,” he scolded. “Why don’t you sing Starry Eyed by Ellie Goulding?”
I looked at him in disbelief. “How do you know that song?”
“First off, I don’t live under a rock. I know who she is. Secondly, I came into the apartment one day while I was working and you were in the shower singing it,” he waved two fingers in front of my face to further drive home his point.
“Okay,” I played with a piece of my hair, “I’ll sing that.”
“Good,” he grinned and his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“What are you going to sing?”
“You’ll see,” he tipped the chair back on two legs and crossed his arms behind his head.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He countered. He smacked his hand on top of the table and stood. “I better go sign us up before all the slots fill up.” He had walked a few feet when he turned back to me. Pointing to his empty chair, he warned, “Try not to let anyone steal my seat this time. I’d like to refrain from punching someone and enjoy my evening.”
“If anyone comes along I’ll keep them away with your light saber,” I joked, pointing to the keychain on his key ring that laid on top of the table.
“Excellent,” he chortled, disappearing into the crowd. We’d only been there a few minutes and at least twenty more people had arrived.
I kept my eye out for any potential creepers. I wanted to avoid having another situation like the one that occurred in Philadelphia.
Trace returned a few minutes later with two bottles of water. “I thought you might be thirsty,” he handed me one.
“Thanks,” I took it and twisted the top off. I didn’t dare ask him how long it would be until I took the stage. It would only serve to make me more nervous. I was definitely better off not knowing.
There was a clock hanging on the wall beside us and my gaze flicked its way every few seconds. I needed to stop.
“Hey,” Trace leaned towards me, “there’s nothing to freak out about.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I frowned. “You don’t get nervous.”
/> “I don’t care what people think of me,” he reasoned. “Good or bad. Their opinion doesn’t matter to me. I do care what you think of me, and my family of course. But these people,” he gestured to the crowd, “they’re not important, Olivia.”
I absorbed his words, letting them soak in as I repeated them silently. “Why do you always have to be right?”
“I’m not always right. But I’m glad you think so. That makes my life easier,” he chuckled, fighting a smile. He took a sip of water and pointed to the stage. “My turn.”
