It’s fine, I promise. Kris asks whether we want more coffee, but then looks conflicted about getting up when his demon needs comfort. Meghan resolves this dilemma by appearing with second rounds, a familial nod at Kris, and unobtrusive vanishing back behind the counter.
Kris nods back, because in this moment a rock icon and a college-kid barista are unquestioned equals. Both taking care of Justin Moore.
So you’re independent, I summarize.
“We’re our own label. I have no bloody clue about the business end. Anna and Mike are in charge. I’m only throwing money at them.”
“And making music,” Justin contributes, sweet and impudent as a kiss.
“And making music.” Kris grins more, likely because Justin’s looking up and smiling more too. “So it’s f*****g selfish, ‘s what it is. Oh, gods, sorry
