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“It gives it charm.” I sat down on the barstool and watched as Elliot moved around the kitchen.I could get used to . . . nope . . . stop thinking that right now.I cleared my throat. “Did you get some work done this morning? How long have you been up?”
He rubbed his hand down his face, letting out a long, exasperated sigh.
“I didn’t sleep well last night; I’ve been up since about five.” He turned, a mug of coffee in his hand. He placed it in front of me. It looked perfect—the right ratio of coffee to creamer. I touched the handle and pulled it closer. “I got a few work emails out of the way. Clay gathered all the information for an appraisal.”
“Oh, right.” I sighed. “You’re selling the company.”
“Yes. There’s also an email from Liam, that agent from Pacific Sound. There wasn’t much to it, but I think he wants to get the ball rolling.”
I widened my eyes. That was news I wasn’t expecting to hear just yet. I figured he would sell before making the move on his band, and I knew selling could take years. “Elliot that’s . . . that’s . . .” I stumbled, unable to get the words out.
I wanted to jump up and give him a hug to congratulate him, but I forced myself to stay put.
He chuckled. “I know. I texted Bennett, but honestly, he’s probably still sleeping. He had a game last night, so he is most likely out.”
“A game?” I asked.
“He’s a hockey player, and he’s in season.” He leaned on the counter, his palms flat against the marble, his shoulder hunching just enough as his eyes studied my face.
“I wouldn’t have pegged Bennett for a hockey player. He seems all music.”
“Music and hockey. That's all he does. He may call today. I know it’s a big family day but if he calls I’ll need to talk to him.”
“Well, duh. When do they want to see you?”
He scoffed, turning back to the stove to remove the bacon from the pan. He tossed the towel over his shoulder, which, for me, was a move that basically sold me on a man. I blinked a few times and took a long drink from my coffee, instantly regretting how long I had let my eyes linger.
“They didn’t say,” he responded, turning back to me with a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs. “I asked your mom if I could make you breakfast, so don’t worry, this is the only breakfast you’ll have.”
He needed to stop being so perfect.
“Thank you.” I smiled. “But what do you mean ‘They didn’t say?’”
Shrugging his shoulders, he leaned his palms on the counter. “They were vague. Like I said, he didn’t give much detail. But it seems like they are interested. I also gave them Bennett’s information, letting them know that Bennett is just as much a lead guy as I am.”
I took a bite of my eggs, the taste sitting perfectly on my tongue. Nodding, I tried to savor the taste while also trying to swallow to respond to him.
“Most labels want the front man, the face you register with the band, and that's you.” I pointed my fork at him.
“True, but things have to happen before we can move forward with that, like today for instance.” He raised a single eyebrow. “Your dad mentioned a place called Woodward.”
I gave him a grin, biting the tip of my tongue.
“I hope you packed warm clothes. It’s supposed to snow today.”
Woodward was packed. The fresh power on the ground only caused more people to come and enjoy the runs, which, for me, meantskiing was out of the question. I was more into the tubing hills anyway.
My parents paid for everyone, and volunteered to watch as the kids in the indoor tramp park while everyone else picked their activity. Carrie, Holden, and Will all rented skis, and Jillian, Harrison, Elliot and I all went to the tubing park.
I lived for this. First, when it was Gorgoza Park, and then once Woodward came in—creating more tubing lanes—I was more stoked. I jumped up and down in line, my hair bouncing around my beanie as my boots crunched into the snow. I held onto my tube as we rode up to the top of the hill, the adrenaline filling my body. Ophelia had told me all about her new obsession with bungee jumping, how her heart rate would pick up and how she could feel the wind hit every nerve on her skin, I knew soaring down a mountain on an innertube wasn’t the same, but man if the adrenaline wasn’t coursing through me now.
“Easy tiger.” Elliot chuckled as we got to the top of the hill.
“Hell no. This is my favorite thing. I am going to jump up and down like a five-year-old and live for it.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
Jillian shook her head at us. “She acts like this every year. She must have told you.”
Elliot looked at Jillian, thinking about his answer I could tell. Jillian had been giving us weird looks. Her eyebrows pinched, his eyes studying as we interacted. She would casually bring him up in conversation yesterday, asking random questions that I had to come up with answers to on the spot. I watched the two talk, Elliot giving her a simple answer as to how we’ve only been dating during the summer, and he’d rather sit and watch me paint. Jillian hummed, accepting the answer, but still notlikingit.
