Right.
He slung the guitar strap across his muscled body and sat down, propping up his Birkenstock-clad feet on the bottom rung of the stool, and rested the guitar on his knee. He adjusted the mic and scanned the crowd.
By chance or by fate, our eyes locked, and his toothy grin widened. He winked, and an unexpected thrill tingled my spine, making me both excited and uncomfortable.
He finished his survey of the audience and leaned into the mic. “I’m Elias. Thanks for coming out.” His silken voice danced across my skin like a sensual caress. “This one’s called ‘Feel Us Shaking’ by The Samples.”
He cleared his throat, shifted his weight, and began plucking the guitar strings with ease, sliding the familiar opening notes into the din that filled the warm spring night.
I inhaled sharply, my jaw dropping in surprised wonder as each word of the first phrase reached my hungry ears. His tenor floated over the guitar chords, the tone and timbre of his voice carrying a powerful yet ethereal quality that seemed intertwined with the island’s magical atmosphere. I wanted to bathe in the lush notes. The soothing texture of the song harmonized with my soul, a balm for my broken spirit.
I wasn’t the only one captivated by Elias. Heads turned, gazes fixed, laughter and conversations quieted, the audience held prisoner by the dulcet notes of the man’s mesmerizing voice.
The scene evoked memories of the local legends my grandma used to tell me about when I was a child: mythical creatures inhabited Hilton Head, enchanting unsuspecting victims with their song. Of course, the old stories were just that—old stories—but as Elias continued to sing, I felt entranced, drawn to him by his music. I quickly finished my drink, unsettled by his magnetism and needing the brandy to steady my nerves.
I returned my focus to the stage, the melody pulling on my attention until I yielded to its relentless demands. I swayed in time to the beat, and thoughts of the house and my uncertain future fled, replaced by Elias’s voice.
He captured my eyes again, and the thrill of his attention broadened its wings across my chest. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or the fact I’d finished my drink, but his eyes shone such a bright blue they appeared to glow. And in that moment, our eyes connecting us across the distance, the world fell away, and he sang only to me.
Diamond waves through sunglass days go by
So beautiful to be here and alive
Though I’ve built sometimes so hard did I survive?
Feel us shaking
His mouth turned up at the corners as he held my eyes through the phrase. Then he blinked and broke our connection, releasing me. He dropped his head and continued to strum his guitar.
A bow-wave of emotion swept away the flutter in my chest, replacing it with a lump that traveled into my throat. I swallowed hard to keep it down. The intent in his eyes combined with his bright smile… The meaning behind the words he sang with his seductive voice… They cracked open my shielded, shattered heart. I hadn’t felt anything other than disappointment and loss for so long, I’d lost sight of a simple truth: it was beautiful to be here and alive.
I closed my eyes, relaxed my shoulders, and with a clear head, opened my heart to the music. Within moments, the vise grip strangling my soul started to release. Contentment bordering on happiness rose like the swell of the ocean, and I smiled for the first time since my grandma died.
The song ended, and a palpable hush fell over the cove. The audience sat in motionless silence for a heartbeat, then erupted with applause, loud whoops, and whistling. Elias stood amid the outpouring of praise, his blue eyes sparkling under the string of lights, and joyful pride spread across his handsome features. He lifted his guitar in one hand, waved to the audience with the other, and descended the steps into a standing ovation.
A group of women in their twenties rushed the stage. I couldn’t hear much above the wild applause, but from their squeals and flailing arms, I knew they were gushing. One woman lightly touched his shoulder, and another sidled up, consuming the space next to him. I snorted and rolled my eyes.
The urge to unabashedly gush was strong, but I had no doubt his playboy tendencies matched his rakish good looks and seductive voice. No need for me to join the party; he already had plenty of fangirls throwing themselves at him. I signaled the bartender for my check and tossed my credit card onto the bar.
While I waited, an uncanny pull tugged at my chest, urging me to go to him, talk to him, tell him he had a glorious voice, and beg him to sing to me again. But I broke free of its clutches. The scars of my past reminded me he was the same make and model as my ex-husband and set me free.
Besides, forty-one-year-old women didn’t fangirl.
I signed the receipt, and as I got up to leave, noticed a lightness in my step as if a few weights had been removed from the emotional barbell I’d been carrying across my shoulders. A sliver of hope shined through my darkness. If nothing else, Elias’s song reminded me that as dire as things seemed, I was alive, and life held beautiful potential.
Chapter Five
ELIAS
I finished my song, and euphoria amplified satisfaction, the applause and adoration emanating from the crowd answering my call and fulfilling the demands of my compulsion. The energy invigorated my body with emotional fuel. What a rush.
I climbed down the steps eager to find the woman from the beach among the sea of men and women pressing toward the stage. On any other night, I’d entertain their attention and soak up their praise like a sponge, quenching my siren’s thirst. But not tonight. Tonight, my preoccupied mind had other plans. I craned my head over the crowd even as I answered questions and shook hands. There. She tossed her credit card onto the bar.
Wait, what? She was... leaving? How? I sang to her. Right to her. I’d poured power into those words.
Frantic, I excused myself from the group of adoring fans and wove my way through the gauntlet of attention toward the bar. I broke through the crowd just as she rose from her stool and slung her purse across her shoulder.
I tried my best at nonchalance despite the urgency gripping my insides. I stepped up to the bar, leaned in, and threaded my voice with as much allure as I could manage without singing. “Leaving so soon?”
