A Walk in Your Shoes

CHAPTER 15

We drive for what seems like miles. The February air is chilly, but warm enough for us to drive with the windows down. We are so close to warm weather I can feel it as my hair whips in the wind. Flint offered to drive my car and I didn't object. It's nice to lose myself in the scenery and music.

The faint sound of Charlotte Rising plays through the car speakers as we drive. It's easy to fall into the moment with him and sing. A strange sensation of calm rushes over me, even as we go through unfamiliar roads.

He pulls into a long driveway. The main house on the property appears abandoned, with paint peeling and rickety old shutters loosely hanging from the siding.

I should be nervous about taking a drive with a boy I hardly know, but I'm not. Today feels different, like two friends escaping reality for a bit.

"See that garage back there?" Flint points to the left side of the house, in front of the gravel driveway.

Following his line of sight there's a garage that's more updated than the house itself. Clean gray siding lines the outer walls of the small rectangular building.

"Where are we exactly? That house is like something out of a horror movie."

Flint chuckles. "This is where we practice, it's my buddy's place. After seeing your music room I thought it might cheer you up."

I narrow my eyes on him. "And your friend is okay with us being here?"

"Yeah. I sent him a text while you were talking to your dad. Want to see where the magic happens?" he questions, wiggling his brows.

"I hope the magic we're talking about is music." There's a flirtatious edge to my words, that even he catches.

Flint winks and butterflies emerge in my stomach.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Bennett," he says, with an amused smile on his face.

We step out of the car and I follow him around the back of the garage to the door. He pulls out a key like he owns the place and allows me to go in ahead of him. He reaches around to turn on the lights, they flicker on and I'm in awe. The way everything is set up reminds me of a real recording studio. The hallway to the back is even lined with pictures of artists, some are signed too.

Flint steps ahead to turn on the light in the main room. My jaw drops at the sight of it all. There's a recording booth with glass, a mixing board, and several instruments scattered about the room.

"This is awesome." I spin around to make sure that I don't miss anything.

I peek through the glass of the studio and eye the board. What I wouldn't give to learn how to use that.

"I have an idea, let's play a game," he suggests.

"What kind of game?" I give a questioning look.

He rubs his hands together and narrows his eyes at me. "How many songs can you actually play on the guitar?"

I scoff. "Are you kidding me? I've got a pretty wide range."

Laughing he replies, "Oh, so now you're an expert?"

I'm taken aback by how easy the banter between us becomes as we spend more time together. Am I flirting? Shit, I think I am.

"Guess you'll just have to find out."

I walk over to a beautiful metallic blue Fender Strat.

"Okay, so we have to guess the band based off of the music, or lyrics if you want to add them."

He grabs two black crates for us to sit on, then reaches for the light gray Strat sitting on a stand on the opposite side of the room.