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I rolled my eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet they draggedher.”
“Nah, it was definitely the other way around. Are you almost done in here?”
“Yeah, I’m done. I have what I need. I could stay longer though, for sure. I’m assuming me in this store is going to be you in the music store after lunch, am I right?” I tilted my head and looked at him.
He furrowed his eyebrows, and his lips created a small line. The temptation to kiss that small line was extremely strong. Hell, every temptation was with him.
“Oh no,” he finally said, “it will be much . . . much worse.” He put the paintbrush in the wrong container, and I gave him a playful glare before I placed it in its correct spot, and, once my fingers were finally free, he grabbed my hand. “Come on VanGogh, we need to meet your parents for lunch.”
The restaurant was quiet for the lunch hour, which made for a pleasant afternoon, and then we all traveled to the other side of the city to join Elliot in picking out a guitar for his upcoming show. He made good on his statement that it would be much worse than me in the craft store, he didn’t even grab my hand, he just took off towards the entrance. What brought a smile to my face, however, was the five kids following him at top speed.
Loud rock music greeted us as we entered, Elliot was already lost in the back of the store. Drum sets sat on high shelves all around the large room, keyboards and band instruments sat in small alcoves, and all the guitars lined the back wall. That’s where I headed, knowing very well he would be next to the flashiest guitar there was. I tried to think of what Elliot’s guitar looked like back home. I never really paid attention to it that much—I was always avoiding watching him on the stage, but I knew it was an electric guitar. Maybe it was red? Or was it blue? Orange?
Stopping and scrunching my nose, I instantly felt terrible because I couldn’t answer this question about my “boyfriend.” I looked around to see where my family was before pulling out my phone to look at the band’s Instagram, scrolling through until I found a photo of Elliot, his hand gripping the microphone, his eyes closed as he sang, and a white guitar around his neck.
White.
I would have never pegged him to have a white guitar. But after taking a screenshot and cropping the photo down, I couldn’t see him holding anything else.
Scanning the wall, I found the white electric guitars, but Elliot wasn’t near them. Neither were any of the kids.
“Hey,” Harrison said behind me, “we lost your boyfriend.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, so did I.”
“Jamie,” Jillian called from across the wall, “I see him.” She smiled.
I walked over to her, folding my arms as I got closer to a small closed-off room filled with acoustic guitars. Once the door closed behind us, the sound from the main part of the store faded, and all I heard was Elliot’s voice along with the strumming of a guitar. He was in a smaller portion of the room, a glass door keeping him separate from everyone else. He sat on a stool in the middle of the room, with all the kids gathered around him. He had a brown, simple, acoustic guitar perched on his leg—his fingers moved flawlessly as he sang.
My heart skipped a beat.
“She painted their beauty, but little did she know, the love in my world was continuing to grow. Sunflowers bloomed beneath her skilled hand, the golden light enchanting a love so grand . . .”
I had never heard these lyrics before, and I had listened to a lot of his music on my phone before we left. I had heard him sing originals and covers, but nothing hit my ears like this.
A painter.
Sunflowers.
Falling in love.
Butterflies grew in my stomach. I was certain he was singing about me but I kept out of view, worried that if he were to see me, he’d stop, and I desperately wanted to hear the rest of the song.
“Together they danced and swayed, the bristles capturing the summer’s day. He whispered his love into her heart . . .”
“Jamie?”
I jumped. I was so focused on Elliot, the world around me seemed to mesh together and I didn’t hear Jillian sneak up on me. Everything was blurry, except him, until Jillian pulled me out of the trance.
“I think he’s singing about you,” she whispered.
I licked my lips and turned back to him. He had finished singing, but his fingers were still focused on the strings. Dustin was closest to him, watching him with the guitar, his eyes completely focused on Elliot’s fingers on the neck. Just like me, Dustin was enchanted by Elliot on the guitar.
Elliot did one final strum before placing his hand over the strings to silence the guitar. He looked up at Dustin and smiled, then an employee came into view. She had her arms folded, a blush on her cheeks.
“Yeah, this is the one.” Elliot stood, holding onto the guitar’s neck.
The girl smiled and then gently took the guitar from him. “I’ll have it waiting for you up front. Beautiful song, Daxton, absolutely gorgeous.”
