Amongst The Stars

Chapter One

I Think We're Alone Now - Tommy James & The Shondells

"I think we're alone now. There doesn't seem to be anyone around. I think we're alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound."

Present Day

"Thanks, Chuck," I shout after the older gentleman heading out the front door, "Always a pleasure to see you in here!"  I sigh in relief, wiping down the area he just vacated and placing his used pint glass in the sink beneath the bar as the door closes behind him. It's midday, and Old Man Chuck is typically our only customer until the after-work rush.  I swear Jake only opens this early to accommodate him, I think as I toss my towel back into the fresh Sani-Water bucket, He could probably save so much money if he stopped. But he loves that old man.

I dry my hands off and lean my elbows against the bar top. I survey the area and let my eyes fall on the only occupied booth.  Quinn. A small smile creeps its way up my face while I watch them.

I take in their intentionally disheveled, curly pixie cut. I take in the way their glasses slide down their nose as they lean over the iPad, sketching away at something with their apple pencil.  Three, Two, One. I mentally count down, and then they push their glasses back up, and my smile widens.  There we go.

The thought of knowing their mannerisms well enough to be able to guess exactly when they'll adjust their glasses makes my heart soar.  I let my eyes rake over their vintage brown and orange striped sweater and down their charcoal gray cigarette pants, stopping to admire the bit of ankle peeking out between the top of their boots and the cuff of their pants.

How did I get so lucky?

I press myself back up off the bar, stopping to pay a small tribute to the small Blackbeard shrine that Jake insisted on setting up behind the bar, and slowly walk around to the jukebox in the corner, ensuring I don't draw attention to my movements. I perused the options, smirking to myself as I keyed in A-23.

I turn around, leaning against the jukebox, as the opening chords to "I Think We're Alone Now" by Tommy James and the Shondells ring out from the speakers.  I wait a beat to see if Quinn will recognize the song, our song, but they're so engrossed in their art that they don't even look up. With that, I walk over to their booth and sit beside them. I quietly sing along to the chorus, grabbing their chin and tilting their head to face me.  "Sorry to interrupt, Bug," I start, kissing their lips gently, "but I think we're alone now." Giggling, they set their apple pencil down on the table.  "Mhm, there doesn't seem to be anyone around."

I wrap my arm around their shoulders, pulling them closer to my side. "What are you working on?"  "Just a new coloring sheet for the kids, nothing important."  "How many times do I have to tell you? Your work is never nothing important," I squeeze their shoulder, "those kids love you, and I won't stand for you minimizing that."

They breathe a small sigh through their nose and lean deeper against me. I bend down and press a kiss to the crown of their head.  I try to give them some grace, knowing they aren't used to having a supportive partner who believes in them.

"I love seeing your work, Bug," I kiss their forehead, "You're passionate about it, and you're good at it."  "You do know you've already won me over," they laugh, "right? You don't have to keep unnecessarily complimenting me."  "They're not unnecessary compliments," I entwined our fingers together, "and, actually, I hold back most of the time." I raise our clasped hands to my lips and kiss the back of their palm. "Oh, hush."  "I don't think I will. In fact, I don't think I can. I could praise you day in and day out, and it still would never be enough."