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“At the moment . . . neither. He doesn't become Daxton until we get to Park City, and then we will be fake dating.” I lifted my mango-rita and licked the salt off the rim. I closed my eyes and hummed.
The lights around us dimmed and then a few shouts came from the large crowd. I smiled, knowing Elliot was on his way out. Taking a quick inventory of the room, I noticed the same man from two weeks ago, the talent agent—the one who was interested in them. I lightly tapped Madeline’s arm and pointed to him. She squinted and nodded, seemingly understanding what I was trying to tell her.
“Good evening!” Elliot’s voice hit my ears and pulled my attention back to the stage.
Chase was settled behind his drums, his blonde hair messy as always. Jameson looked stoic as he lifted his bass over his head and Bennett looked as if this was his thrill. Elliot had his guitar strapped over his shoulder, his fingers already pressed against the cords, while the other hand grabbed the mic. He smiled as he pressed his lips up against the mic in front of him.
“I hope you’re ready for a good night.”
The crowd cheered as Bennett and Jameson started the beat and the song began—the spotlight hitting Elliot in all the right places.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he moved to the music. He would close his eyes, his deep voice filling the room with confidence and charm. He was where he belonged—up on that stage—bringing music into the world. Every now and then he would glance over at our table, his eyes would catch mine and I would force the butterflies down, reminding myself that I didn’t need that right now and he was simply just a friend. I swallowed, and even though his eyes told a different story, I told myself the truth: this was all for show.
I sighed and took the final sip of my mango-rita. Simply a friend.
Chapter Thirteen
-Elliot-
Ipulled up to Jamie’s house at 5 a.m. on the dot. Yawning, I parked the Jeep and rubbed my eyes. Why we decided to leave so early just so we could get to Park City the same day was beyond me, but for some reason Jamie insisted. In my head we could stay in Boise, split the trip up into two days. But she desperately wanted to be in Utah. I knocked on her door lightly, the porch light making it so I could barely keep my eyes open.
The show ended around ten. Bennett and I met with the talent agent again, talking about the possibility of traveling to the studio, and after that I had a drink with Milo before Madeline whisked him away. I made sure to give Jamie some of my attention, but she snuck out to get some sleep before the trip. It was oddly good to see Hannah again and then, when I got back home to see my suitcasespacked and ready for me, I thanked Past Elliot for packing in advance. All I had to do was plop in bed and go to sleep.
The three hours of sleep I managed to get would be enough for a twelve-hour road trip . . . I hoped. I promised Jamie coffee and the Lord knew I would need plenty of it.
Jamie opened the door to her apartment, her hair up in a messy bun and a large canvas in her hands.
“Good morning.” She yawned.
“Morning,” I replied.
“Can you get my suitcases while I get the painting?” She motioned her head into her living room where two suitcases sat, a large handbag perched on top.
I nodded and stepped inside, tossing the handbag over my shoulder and using both hands to roll a suitcase out.
“Do you have everything?” I asked as I passed her.
She perched the canvas, which was wrapped up gingerly in a fabric tarp, on her knee. “Yup. I packed before the show.”
“Great minds think alike.” I yawned. “We should count how many times we yawn today.”
Jamie let out a loud groan. “Let’s not, that may be worse. Bring our attention to the yawning and how tired we are. Let’s just go get coffee and dream about the beds we will get to sleep in tonight.”
“We never mentioned sleeping arrangements.” I opened the trunk to the jeep and lifted her suitcases inside. Jamie carefully slid the painting in the backseat, making sure it wasn’t leaning the wrong way.
“Well,” she sighed, fixing the fabric that was protecting it, “normally my brother and I share the main cabin with my parents, so I’m assuming you and I will be sharing a room.”
“Ah, so I’ll be on the floor Ryan ReynoldsThe Proposalstyle, huh?” I chuckled to myself. Not only was I proud that I knew to make that joke, but the face Jamie gave me in response was one in a million. It said“Elliot you idiot”while also saying“I half want you in the bed with me.”
“You got it. Thankfully there’s no blanket my parents call ‘the baby maker.’” Jamie shut the door and yawned, yet again.
“That's two for you,” I joked. “I have one if we aren’t counting the yawn I had in the car before I knocked.”
“Elliot, don’t even,” she began. “Of course it doesn't count, I didn’t see it therefore, it doesn't exist.”
I laughed as we both climbed in the car. I started it, typed in the address on my GPS and shifted the car in drive, starting to yawn which turned into a laugh as I counted in my head that we were now tied with yawns.
“Elliot Daxton Whittaker.” Jamie leaned her head back on the headrest. “Take me to a Starbucks and stop yawning.”
