Also. By some miracle, my parents love Booker and my sister hasn’t said a single negative comment all day.
Maggie:
Hello? Are you alive? Did your phone die? Do I need to come save you?
Shit.
I scrambled my fingers across the keyboard.
Me:
Shit. Sorry. I didn’t have my phone. No, I don’t have electricity, but I’m fine. Actually, Stetson stopped by and asked me to help him with his new song. So… I’ll keep you posted on that front. And amazing! So glad everything is going good with Booker and your fam! I love you. Stay safe and warm!
I heard the door opening and immediately put my phone down. I knew dropping a bomb like that on Maggie wasn’t very nice, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed someone to know the situation I’d currently found myself in.
“Holy shit. It’s cold out there.”
“Wish I could say it was warmer in here, but unfortunately, it’s not.” I laughed.
Stetson turned the corner with his guitar case in hand, as if I needed any more reason to find myself practically salivating over the man.
“I know what could make it warmer…” He winked, sending my insides into a tizzy.
“I set myself up for that one, didn’t I?”
He chuckled, nodding his head in agreement before taking a seat next to me.
“All right, here’s the deal.” His demeanor had shifted, his shoulders tensing as he pulled the guitar to his chest and his foot tapping in a constant up and down motion.
I was starting to think that maybe this man wasn’t as cocky and confident as he tried to come off, because the more time I spent around him, the more I was able to pick up on little things that suggested otherwise. The slight change in his voice, the tug on his hat, the nervous comb through his hair.
“You’re the first person to hear this song besides me, so basically, I need you to be as brutally honest as you can with me. People just tell me what I want to hear most of the time, not what Ineedto hear.” He hesitantly looked up at me.
“You sure you know what you’re asking for?” I joked.
“Why do you think I’m here?”
“Fair enough,” I said, settling into my spot.
I was close enough to feel his presence but not close enough to touch him. I watched his chest rise and fall behind the guitar.
“Ready?”
I nodded my head and smiled.
He picked at the strings, a slow melody strumming through the air around us. Before too long, his voice joined in, matching the melody perfectly.
I subtly bobbed my head back and forth, listening to every single word that escaped his mouth. Partially because I wanted to be able to give an honest review, and partially because I wanted to be sure I could dissect every lyric he sang after he left.
The song was good, but the best part was that it was different than all the rest he’d released, and I knew that was what he was really after.
He strung the last chord, keeping his head peered over the guitar and not at me.
“You wrote this entire song in just a few weeks?”
“Actually, I wrote the whole song the first day you came to the recording studio…”
“Damn, really?” I asked. “It’s incredible. Like really, really good.”
