Page 31 of Obey

It doesn’t take long for Maddox to start bobbing his head in time with the music and softly sing along.

He’d always done that. I remember teasing him for it, because it was impossible for us to listen to music without him adding his own voice to the mix.

That’s why I’d taken him to karaoke for one of our first dates.

“There’s a new karaoke place over by 31st Street,” I say, surprising myself.

His singing immediately halts, and he glances briefly at me before returning his attention to the road. “Yeah?” His tone is cautious, but he doesn’t instantly snap at me. “I didn’t know that. Have you been?”

“Nah. Just saw it around. One of my friends said it was good. Private rooms, great menu, cheap booze.” I snort to myself. “I bet he was mostly impressed with the cheap booze. I doubt anyone would tolerate his singing while sober.”

“Is he as bad as you?” Maddox asks, deadpan enough to where I can’t figure out if he’s teasing or being an asshole.

Probably the latter, but for some reason, I don’t feel like rising to the bait.

“Hey, I at least know the lyrics to the songs I pick. My buddy picks popular songs and two lines in has to hum, badly, because he has no fucking clue how it goes.” I let out a small laugh. “Only a step above a cat in heat.”

“So you still go to karaoke?”

I still can’t read his voice, and it’s pissing me off because fuck, this is Maddox. I know him better than anyone.

At least, I’d thought I did.

“Not a lot,” I say. “Just if somebody else invites me.”

It just isn’t as fun now as it used to be when I was a teen. I’ve outgrown it, or I lost my taste for singing, or… something.

My eyes flick back to Maddox. He’s got his lips pursed, and I wonder what he’s not saying.

“I don’t,” he says after a moment.

The admission surprises me—not only because he’d said it, but because he’d always loved karaoke. We’d even snuck into bars with open karaoke when we’d been younger, all because it was his favorite thing to do.

The song ends, and the radio DJ does some inane chatter about the oldies. His voice grates, and I’m ready to switch the station when the next song finally starts.

My eyes widen.

It’s the song that had been playing when Maddox and I had first fucked.

The song I lost my virginity to.

His fingers tighten around the wheel, his knuckles turning white, and I know he’s thinking of the same thing I am.

He hasn’t forgotten any more than I have.

“I can change it,” Maddox blurts out, already reaching toward the console.

“Keep your hands on the wheel,” I snap in my most dominant voice.

A shudder runs through him, and he slowly rests his hand back on the wheel. “Why?” he asks, so quietly I almost can’t even hear him over the song. “What’s the point, Nayeem?” He grimaces, correcting himself quickly, “Knives.”

“It’s a good song,” I say quietly. I don’t mention that I haven’t been able to listen to it at all since I’d landed in jail. “The two of us, we’re done. There’s no reason to deny ourselves this song.”

“It’s not that good of a song,” he mutters, not looking at me.

The comment hurts more than I expect, and I open my mouth to lash out at him. How dare he shit on what we had, after everything he’d put me through.

But as the song continues, I realize there’s no fucking point.

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