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I care about you, Shay. Always.The sticky, sweet voice slithered into her brain, and she shook her head to clear it.
The waitress returned and Shay placed an order for omelets for both of them.
“Breakfast for dinner?” Graham asked.
Shay winked at him. “Try something new.”
“Let me see it.”
“Huh?”
“Let me see the songs you’ve written.”
Shay’s eyes widened into saucers and her hand clutched her purse.
“You’ve been writing for hours.” Graham made a “gimme” motion with his hand. “You have something good in there.”
“I don’t know…” Shay glanced down at her purse and gripped it tighter.
“Shay…”
Her heart raced at the thought of someone seeing the new songs.He would see the real me, behind the lights and cameras.It felt weird, even with Graham, to share the raw state of her and her writing.
“They’re rough.”
“Shay… Let. Me. See.” Graham kept his hand extended toward her.
She stared at it as if it were a monster. Slowly she handed the notebook over.
“There’s some grammatical errors here and there,” she explained.
“Mm-hmm.”
Her heart beat rapidly as she watched Graham’s eyes dart across the pages. The waitress came and set their meals down, but Shay barely paid attention as he read.
“You’re freaking me out. What do you think?”
Graham relaxed into his seat, inhaling deeply.
“They were bad? You think they were bad?”
A smirk appeared on his face and her world collapsed.
“They were. You think they were?”
“Shay.”
Dread filled her limbs. “I shouldn’t have let you see them.”
“Shay.”
“You hate them.” She dropped her head forward.
His hands covered hers. “They were remarkable.”
Relief flooded her.
“You think?”
