Listen to Your Heart(8)
“Favorite song?”
“That’s a very long list.”
“All 80s?”
“No. I’ll listen to just about anything. My playlist is the most insanely eclectic bunch of songs you’ll ever find.”
“You think so, huh?” Caleb reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. “Let’s compare.”
Excited to play this game, I grab my cell out of my bag. We exchange phones and scroll through each other’s playlists. We’re both grinning like idiots because a lot of the songs are the same.
“Excellent playlist, although I do question this band.”
He points to my screen and smirks. I’m not really offended, but I pretend to be.
“How dare you question my devotion to One Direction?”
“How dare I not?”
With a huff, I place his phone on the table between us before snatching mine out of his hand.
“Fine. And I’ll pretend I didn’t see Taylor Swift on yours.”
“Taylor Swift is an exceptional songwriter.”
“And the guys in One Direction have incredible harmonies.”
Caleb chuckles and raises his hands in surrender. “Agreed.”
I grin.
“What about your favorite movie?” he asks.
“Dirty Dancing.”
“Of course it is.”
“Don’t judge me. When Patrick Swayze died, I literally cried for days.”
“No judgment. I felt the same way about Michael Jackson.”
“Really? I have Thriller on vinyl.”
“Me, too.”
It’s crazy how much we have in common. And scary.
Caleb plays with his phone for just a second before putting it back in his pocket. As the band continues their set, we finish dinner and order dessert. Throughout the evening, our bodies drift closer while Caleb’s questions become more personal. I don’t really get the chance to ask him anything because he seems determined to hear every inconsequential detail about my life.
“Have you always lived in Nashville?”
I shake my head. “I was actually born in Seattle. Dad was stationed there in the army until I was six years old. When he decided not to re-enlist, we moved to Tennessee. Dad grew up here, and he convinced Mom it was a great place to raise a family. They bought a farmhouse about an hour south of the city. Mom was so miserable. She’s a total city girl and our hundred-year-old farmhouse was like a shock to the system. They divorced a few years later.”
Caleb reaches for my hand. I try to ignore how my skin tingles beneath his touch.
“I bet that was tough.”
“It was tougher when Mom decided she wanted to move back to Seattle. She got this amazing job offer that she would’ve been crazy to pass up. But my school was here. My friends were here. I didn’t want to go, and she didn’t force me. They worked out a custody agreement and I was able to stay with my dad. I flew out to Seattle for holidays and school vacations, and Mom flew to Tennessee as much as she could. It was actually really amicable as far as divorces go.”
“Still,” Caleb says softly, “that had to be hard . . . not having her around.”
“At times. I missed her a lot, but she was happy and so was my dad. And I got to spend a lot of time in Seattle, which I loved.”
“What did you love about it?”
His mouth is close to my ear, and I shiver when his breath grazes my earlobe.
“The rain,” I whisper, tilting my face toward his.
Caleb’s blue eyes sparkle beneath the purple lights of the café. “You like the rain?”
“I love the rain.”
“Me, too.”
He softly brushes his hand against my cheek as he leans close. My heart races in my chest, and I close my eyes.
I never kiss on the first date. It’s a rule.
But tonight, I’m going to make an exception.
“This song goes out to Skye.”
Or not.
My eyes flash open. I look to the stage to find Jesse smiling down at me. Then the band starts to play the opening bars of She’s Like the Wind by Patrick Swayze.
“Surprise,” Caleb whispers against my ear.
Holy crap.
“How . . . I mean, how—”
“I texted him.”
So that’s what he was doing with his phone.
Caleb stands and offers me his hand.
“Dance with me?”
I hate to dance . . . almost as much as I hate to date. But this is, without a doubt, the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.
“Okay.”
Caleb’s eyes never leave mine as he leads me to the dance floor. Pulling me close, he drifts his hands up my arms and along my shoulders until I’m flush against him. I encircle his waist with my arms as we sway to the music.
Then the most amazing thing happens.
Caleb leans his forehead against mine and starts to sing.
And I melt. Absolutely, positively melt right there in his arms.
Correction. This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.
Caleb’s deep blue eyes burn with emotion as he sings softly to me. I don’t care that we probably look ridiculous and cheesy. I don’t care that the waitress will most likely slash my tires. I don’t care that he’s singing slightly off key. I don’t even care that my best friend is going to scream bloody murder when I tell her about this moment.