“You should take this.” I motion to the bag. “There is already too much food here.”

He grabs the bag back from my hand and nods at me. “Have a nice night, Savannah.” He looks over my shoulder. “Beau,” he says, nodding as he turns and walks out.

I wait for the door to slam and then the sound of his car door before I let out a huge deep breath. “That your boyfriend?” He points at the door with the fork in his hand.

“Shut up.” I turn, walking back to the stool and slipping back on it. “He’s as much my boyfriend as Melody is your girlfriend.” Now he throws his head back and laughs out loud. I have the sudden urge to lean over and just kiss him. But instead, I look down at my food and take another bite. “It’s going to be the first time since I bought this bar that I’m not open on a Saturday night.”

“It’s definitely going to be strange for a lot of people,” he says while chewing. “It’s the local watering hole.”

I nod. “It is,” I say proudly.

“You really did an amazing job of turning your dreams into reality.” I look over at him. “I mean, remember when we cleaned out this place after you bought it?” He shakes his head. “You moved a crate from over there.” He points at the corner of the bar. “And found a family of rats living there.”

I shiver now, thinking about it. “It was a mother and all fifteen of her kids.” He just laughs. “It was so gross,” I say, eating another bite. “I couldn’t have done this without you.” I look over at him. “You were by my side the whole time. Cheering me on when I would get into my head and tell myself that I couldn’t do it.”

“If there is anything that I know.” He looks over at me, grabbing a bottle of Coke and taking a drink. “It’s that if you set your mind to it, you will do it.”

“You really mean that?” I ask, looking back at my food before I get lost in his eyes.

“I do,” he says. The sting of tears threatens to fall, and I blink them away. I pick at the food and finally give up trying to eat. Standing up, I put away everything.

Beau finishes his food and stands to start cleaning up in front of him. He puts everything in the bag and places it to the side. Then he walks over to the stage where the bands perform and begins to pick up some of the debris from there. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he says, “but if I help, that means you can open sooner.” He shrugs. “I don’t know what I would do with my nights if I wasn’t sitting on that stool.”