“I only have a couple of songs left, but this next one I wrote is probably my favorite from the new album,” he said, cracking a smile under his mustache. He ran his fingers through that luscious brown hair of his. A few beads of sweat strolled down the side of his face, glistening under the bright lights until he put the hat back on. I hadn’t noticed before now, but the front of his navy hat caught my eye.
Quincey Falls, Tennesseewas printed in big white letters.
My stomach somersaulted.
That was our town.My town.
“Have you ever had someone come barreling into your life so fast you would’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention?” He paused, resting his hands on the top of his guitar. “This last year, I needed to take some time away, to really find meaning behind what I was doing here. So, I went to a small town in the middle of nowhere Tennessee, expecting to spend a lot of time with myself,and instead I wound up spending a whole helluva lot of time with a girl.”
The crowd erupted in whoops and hollers, inviting a smirk to sit in the corner of his mouth.
My hand covered my mouth and Maggie’s eyes widened so big I thought they might get stuck open. We didn’t exchange any words; we didn’t have enough time for the shock to wear off before Stetson started talking again.
“She’s just like whiskey—fiery and she’ll hit you with a quick sting when you least expect it. She doesn’t put up with my bullshit, which is something I’m not used to. Instead, she tells me everything I don’t want to hear but need to. At first, I was sure she hated me, but I was too stubborn and too sure she could be exactly what I needed to give up. So, I didn’t, and over the next couple of months, slowly but surely, I got to see another side of her—the side that was as sweet as grenadine. This girl cares so deeply for others that I’m not sure how she holds on to all of those emotions, but she does. She admires the little things that most people would pass right by in a way that makes me see the subtle beauty in them too, and she’s just one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met.”
This time the crowd wasn’t loud when Stetson stopped talking. In fact, the silence was so overwhelmingly quiet that I could hear his breath through the microphone.
I wanted to react, but I also wanted to hear what he was going to say next.
“This song is called ‘Whiskey Grenadine,’ and as much as I wish she was gonna hear it with us, she isn’t here tonight, and that’s on me. But this one’s for you, Scarlett.”
My mouth and heart dropped simultaneously.
The world seemed to stop spinning and for a second it was only him and me in this big amphitheater; everyone else was just a sea of color. In that moment, I wanted him to see me, Ineededhim to see me. I waited for his eyes to find mine in the crowd, but they never did.
Stetson voice strummed through the microphone.
She’s whiskey with a splash of grenadine
And somewhere between the burn and the sweet
She became exactly what I need.
“Oh my god,” Maggie said, her words dragging out longer than normal.
“Holy hell,” Booker said. “What a song.”
“Did that really just happen?” I replied.
Any anxiety or doubts that I had about coming here simply faded away. A smile washed across my face as I listened to the lyrics, each one more satisfyingly personal than the last. They strung together in a way that told the story of us, of me.
“Thank you,” Stetson said as the song came to an end and he struck the last chord.
Just as quickly as he’d slowed the music, he picked it right back up with his next song. This time with a little more pep in his step as the rest of his band rejoined the stage.
“Scarlett! Scarlett! That song was about you!” Ruby beamed from a few rows back, her excitement matching mine, although I wasn’t as obvious as she was.
“Do you wanna come sit with us up here?” I shouted, not sure why I hadn’t asked her before.
Her eyes widened and she aggressively nodded her head up and down.
I grinned. “I’ll meet you in the aisle,” I said, pointing toward the end of the row.
We both started in that direction as I tried to stop myself from practically levitating from hearing that song. The one he wrote about me. Whatever it was, it convinced me that everyone had been right. Everything was actually going to be okay, or at least that was how it felt.
“Come on, we’ll get you a better view of your uncle.” I extended my hand out for her, offering her a little stability among the sea of bodies.
“Is that a poppy?” she asked, pointing to the dainty ink on my arm.
