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Milo:And that's a problem? Get up there and make her swoon even more.
Elliot:Ha - ya…no. My love for the stage didn’t come to Park City. I’m an architect, remember?
Clay:Doesn’t mean Daxton can’t let loose. Get. On. That. Stage.
Milo:Sing that song that reminds you of Jamie - what’s it called?
Elliot:That's not happening.
Milo:I’ll ask Maddy, she knows.
“You have a song that reminds you of me?” I asked, sliding his phone back to him. I slowly lifted my gaze to him, feeling my breath quicken. What was going on with me? Elliot was not the one I wanted to have these feelings for, yet, here they were seeming to get stronger and stronger with each passing moment. Ever since that first one, that first kiss on my doorstep . . . I was just having a harder time ignoring them now that he was in front of me.
Taking a deep breath, he nodded, taking his phone back. “I have a few actually.”
“Sing it for me.”
He scoffed, “Nah, not tonight.”
“Who sings it?”
Elliot’s eyes searched mine as the smile got wider on his lips.
“Elliot,” I whispered, “who sings it?”
“Maybe I’ll sing a different song,” Elliot whispered back. “Do you want me to sing?”
Feeling the chills race up my spine, I nodded.
Without a beat, he slid his chair from the table and began to make his way to the stage. Butterflies grew in my stomach as he got closer and closer to the stage.
“Wait!” Jillian exclaimed. “He’s singing!?”
My eyes never left Elliot as he talked to the man in charge, going through their list of songs and when he finally settled on one, he smiled. Then he waited for the others to go ahead of him, and then it was his turn. He looked relaxed, calm, his arms folded against his chest. He had rolled up his sleeves, his tattoo still visible from the distance. He exuded confidence—he was ready to get to the mic. If only they had a spare guitar for him. And just watching him, the butterflies grew. Was he going to sing the song that reminded him of me?
“Up next is a visitor from Oregon, Daxton Whittaker singing a country tune.” The announcer let Elliot on the stage and when the music started—a song I instantly recognized, thanks to Madeline—I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What is he singing?” Jillian shouted, leaning over the table to me.
“It’s calledCraving You,by Thomas Rhett.” I smiled as the beat got louder.
“He’s a country fan?”
“Not really, but Madeline loves country, so he had to learn a shit ton of Thomas Rhett songs for her wedding,” I answered.
Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head back and hummed, turning back to Elliot on stage.
He grabbed the mic and began to sing, his voice just as I remember it, so much better live than on the recorded tracks. He was in his element. The crowd cheered for him, and Jillian’s jaw dropped. He wasn’t even looking at the words on the screen, he knew them all by heart. I think the only thing he forgot about this song was that a woman joined in on the second verse.
When it came time for the woman, I joined in from the table, loud enough that my siblings could hear me, but Elliot couldn’t. For the next line I sang louder, projecting my voice over the crowd, and this time, he noticed. His eyes met me as we sang the chorus together and when a mic appeared in front of me, Elliot wiggled his eyebrows.
I took the mic but stayed seated and Jillian’s jaw went wide as my voice boomed over the crowd, joining him.
The music slowed, and soon it was just our voices, singing the lead up to the last chorus. The female was supposed to add her own vocal before he joined, and Elliot knew . . .
“This is all you, babe.” He smiled, pointing at me and I hit the note perfectly. Well in my mind it was perfect, but who knows. It could have been completely off-key and absolutely terrible, but Elliot’s attention was on me, and that was all I needed.
The song ended with Elliot, but he stayed firm on the stage, his eyes fixed on me.
