“Then we’ll deal with it, Gracie. I don’t expect you to be anything but yourself. You’re a little loud, sometimes flaky, mildly crazy—”

“Is there a compliment in there somewhere?” I muttered.

Mitch smiled. “And you’re the smartest person I have ever met. You’re motivated, and hard working, and determined. You are loyal, and kind, and you have the biggest heart.”

“That’s better,” I laughed, my heart fluttering.

“And I love you. I love you. I love you. I will say those words every day for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me. So please let me love you the way I want to. The way we both deserve.”

Cue the water works.

It seemed that I had been doing a lot of crying lately. But they were the best kind of tears. The ones that didn’t hurt.

“Only if you let me share your Chunky Monkey,” I smirked.

Mitch kissed me again. I would never get tired of the feel of his mouth on mine. “You can have the whole damn container. I’ll buy you all the Chunky Monkey that I can find, and I won’t even try to share it. It’s yours, baby. All of it. All of me. Everything.”

“I love you, Mitch. More than anything.”

“I’ve been waiting for years to hear you say that,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“I love you,” I repeated.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

We were both crying, and when he reached for me I fell.

All over again.

“So this is Generation Rejects’ last gig,” Gracie said, sounding sad.

I hauled my bass up onto the makeshift stage at Barton’s. Jordan and Cole were setting up the amps and Garrett was tuning his guitar.

The crowd was huge. The largest we had played in front of in a long time.

It was fitting. Because this show was the last one.

It only made sense to go out with a bang in the place where it all began.

“Yeah, it is. And it’s going to be the best damn show we’ve ever had,” I said with confidence, leaning down and kissing her soundly on the mouth.

There was the loud round of cheering.

“Well it’s about fucking time!” Cole yelled from across the stage.

“Gracie! Oh my god! You and Mitch, really?” Vivian shrieked, running to my girl’s side.

My girl.

Mine.

It would take some time to believe that after everything we had been through, Gracie and I were finally together.

Together.

It was my new favorite word.

Gracie rolled her eyes, and I smirked. “I’ll let you share the news,” I told her and she stuck her tongue out.

I leaned down and kissed her again. Then again just because I could.

“You need to talk to me right now!” Vivian declared, tugging on Gracie’s arm. We broke apart, grinning at each other like the crazy fools that we were.

“Sheesh, Viv, give the girl a break. Can’t you see she’s having her tonsils cleaned?” Riley interjected. She had flown in just that morning, not wanting to miss our last concert. She was going on very little sleep and was obviously feeling punchy.

“Well, you need to spill! I can’t believe you didn’t call to tell me!” Vivian pouted.

Maysie looped her arm through Riley and Gracie’s. “Come on, let’s go have some girl talk.”

Gracie looked back at me, blowing me a kiss. I made a show of catching it because I was a dork like that. She laughed and shook her head. I didn’t care that I looked like the world’s biggest tool.

Because Gracie Cook loved me.

“So you and Gracie, huh?” Garrett asked, glancing up from his guitar.

“Yep.” I sat down on the edge of the stage and tuned my own instrument.

“Cool,” was all he said. He was a man of few words. Four letters was all Garrett required to let me know that he was pleased.

“You guys ready?” Moore asked. “The line is all the way around the block. The guys at the door are already turning people away. We haven’t had a crowd like this in months! When can I get you guys back?”

Jordan, Cole, Garrett, and I all exchanged looks.

Time to drop the bombshell. Better now than later.

“This is the Rejects’ final show. At least for a while,” Jordan said, grabbing his drumsticks and sitting behind his kit.

“What?” Moore looked horrified and that was heartening. It was nice to know that we would be missed. “Your last show? Tell me it ain’t so!”

Cole clasped the older man’s shoulder. “I’m afraid so, my man. But I’ll be happy to jump in and play a solo show anytime.”

Garrett and I rolled our eyes.

“I wish that you had told me earlier. I could have charged a lot more at the door,” Moore complained before walking off, clearly annoyed by the loss of potential earnings.

Garrett got to his feet and slung his guitar strap around his neck. “You guys ready for this?”

I looked out at the crowd, finding Gracie standing at the front with Maysie, Riley, and Vivian.

“I don’t know. Are we?” I asked, feeling the weight of what we were about to do.

Cole punched me in the gut, and I let out a groan, doubling over. “What the fuck, man?” I yelled, standing back up.

“You get a little G pussy and now you’re a bitch. This doesn’t mean we’ll never play together again. Get a grip. Now let’s put on the best damn show these assholes have ever seen!” Cole said, pumping his fist in the air.

“He’s got a point. Generation Rejects will never be dead,” Jordan added, tapping out a quick beat.

“Nope. Never,” Garrett agreed.

I looked at the guys who were my brothers, and knew they were right.

“Generation Rejects forever!” I yelled. Cole, Garrett, and Jordan all groaned.

“Seriously, shut the hell up. You’re such a fucking dork,” Cole muttered, walking to the center of the stage.

I laughed, not taking his insult personally.

We took our places for the last time—well the last time for now—and we faced the crowd who had come out to see us play.

The lights dimmed. That was our cue.

Cole brought the mic up to his mouth and looked down at his adoring public. “We’re baaaackkkk,” he drawled out.

There was a cacophony of noise as the screams and cheers began. It was a heady feeling. One, I could admit, that I’d miss.

I looked down at Gracie, her eyes only for me, and I knew that I may be losing this, but I was gaining something so much more.

“So I know you guys are here to see a kickass show,” Cole began, followed by more cheers. “But we’ve got something that we need to share with you all first.”

Cole looked back at the rest of us before continuing. “A bunch of years ago we started Generation Rejects. We were four fuck-ups who wanted to play some music. We sucked.”

There was a general sense of disagreement at that statement. I appreciated the crowd’s loyalty. But what Cole said was right. We had definitely sucked.

“We did, it’s okay guys. We’re pretty fucking awesome now, right?” The roar was deafening.

“Alright, settle down, I have a story to tell.” The crowd quieted down and Cole continued. “So when we became fucking awesome, we signed with a label. We went on the road and tried to take over the world. But sometimes things don’t turn out the way we want them to.”

The room became totally quiet. Everyone was waiting to hear what Cole would say next. Looking out at the faces of the audience, they knew whatever he was going to say, wasn’t going to be good.

“Barton’s Bar and Grill will always be special to us. Moore took a chance on a bunch of punk ass bitches that thought they could play. He let us put on a show. And it went from there. So thanks for that, Moore. You rock, buddy!” Moore put his thumbs up from behind the bar, where he was helping Dina tend to customers.

“So, we started here.” Cole took a deep breath. “And we’re ending here. Tonight.” The noise from the crowd was instantaneous. Murmurs became shouts. What was he talking about? What was going on?