I can't help but chuckle, which only makes Eloise even more confused. “That wasn't a joke.”
“No, I know.” I shake my head with another hushed laugh. “It’s just that I realized why you're so shit at guitar.”
Her mouth pops open in indignation. “Pardon?”
“Fuck, sorry… But you kinda are.” I can’t help but smile at her angry little scowl. “The good news is, now we can fix that problem.” I reach to my side, picking up my guitar by the neck and thrusting it toward her. “Lucky for you, I’malsoleft-handed.”
“I… don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”
Her suspicion is fucking adorable. “You've been playing with the wrong hand. That’s why you’re so stiff and awkward.”
“How can there be awronghand?” She gazes down at the instrument in her lap like it offended her. “Either should work just fine.”
I shake my head. “It's like writing. Your dominant hand is the one you want to use to strum. Here, take mine. Try it.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to damage it… it looks kind of expensive.”
I nearly choke, thinking back to all the things the poor guitar has had to endure over its years in a rock star's possession. “If you do, I’ll be impressed.”
She looks dubious but places her guitar onto the rack and takes mine, switching the direction of the instrument in her lap so it’s facing the correct way. Positioning her fingers on the frets still looks awkward, but far less so than it had a moment ago. And when she strums, she’s able to keep a steady beat as her other fingers work the frets.
I love being right. It happens so very rarely.
“I think you’ve earned another break.”
Eloise picks her head up, frowning as she strums the strings gently. “But I just got the hang of it!”
“Which is exactly why you need to stop. Unless you want to make your fingers bloody—up to you.”
She sighs but puts down the guitar, giving it a longing look as she pulls her hand away from the neck. “I can’t believe how much nicer it sounds compared to mine.”
“What do you mean? Thatisyours now.”
Her mouth drops open. “What? No! I—this isyourguitar. I couldn’t.”
“You can. And you should. It’ll probably get more use with you anyway.” My mouth tips upward. “I’ve made up my mind, Eloise. It’s quite a final thing.”
She blushes, turning her gaze down to her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I… thank you. No one’s ever… That’s incredibly kind of you.”
“It’s nothing. I’ve been meaning to get a new guitar for months now. This is the perfect excuse.” I’m not sure why I tell her this lie, only that it probably makes me seem less desperate.But oh, am I desperate for her.
We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, and then Eloise turns to me with a shy smile and a sparkle in her gaze. “So how did you get into this? Teaching guitar, I mean.” Her neck heats with the faintest shade of pink as she adds, “Seems like you should be touring in a rock band or something.”
“It’s funny you say that.”
“Uh… Why?”
“Because Iamin a rock band. Or used to be, I guess.” I smirk to hide the painful stab of grief the words bring. “It’s been years since I played.”
She tilts her head, her sky-blue eyes brimming with interest. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“You werereallyin a band? You’re not just messing with me?”
“Is that really so hard to believe?”
“I mean, no… it’s just strange that you’re here in Saltbloom,” she murmurs, taking her lip between her teeth. “Would I recognize any of your songs?”
