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“Guitar? No, I don’t play anything besides piano.”
“Wanna try?”
My brows shoot up. “Really?”
“Yeah, here…”
Before I realize what’s happening, I’m pulled into Sebastian’s lap, my back pressed against his chest as his arms wrap around mine, and that familiar spicy scent surrounds me along with the warmth of his body.
“You have to place your hands like this,” Sebastian whispers, his warm breath touching the shell of my ear as he places my left hand on the guitar’s neck, my fingers pressed over the strings. “And the other one goes further down, in the middle of the body. Yes, just like that.”
My eyes fall shut, goosebumps spreading over my skin as he maneuvers my body with such ease, like he’s playing his guitar. His hands feel warm on my skin, and every touch spreads tingles underneath my flesh.
It’s distracting, the way he makes my head spin with a simple brush of his fingers, but I can’t seem to pull away.
“W-what now?” My throat bobs as I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady.
Guitar. You’re learning how to play a guitar, Penny. So what if you’re sitting in his lap while he’s trying to teach you?
Not a big deal.
Sebastian’s hands wrap tighter around me as he places his palms over mine, pressing our fingers against the strings.
“How about we start with the basics?”
Not a big deal at all.
“S-sure.”
I try my best to listen to what he’s explaining and remember the positions to place my hands, but it’s so hard when he’s the only thing I can feel, smell, and touch. He’s overwhelming all of my senses and doesn’t even realize it.
“You wanna try?”
No?
But, of course, I can’t say that now, can I?
Instead, I run my fingers over the neck of the guitar, feeling the frets and strings, and counting silently in my head until I get to the right ones. “This is E major, correct?”
“Yes, but you must place your finger closer to the fret, not in the middle.”
Nodding, I readjust my fingers, making sure I’m in the right place, before strumming the pick over the strings and listening to the sound that fills the room. I strum it a few more times, feeling the corner of my mouth tilt upward.
“That’s good. Now, change to A major.”
It takes me a second, but once my fingers are in the right place, I repeat the process, listening to the sound.
“Again, E major.”
I return my fingers to the original position, strumming it a few times before changing back to A major. The melody now feels more consistent, more like a song than random sounds, and it sounds familiar.
“Oh my God, that’s…” I bite my lip before I can blurt out the song.
And not just any song.
His song.
Sebastian’s chin brushes against my shoulder as he leans closer. “You know the song?”
