Danny came near us and I immediately asked him, "Hey, are you from the band Love Händle?"
"Didn't think I would meet a fan of your age," Danny replied, his tone shifting to something a little more attentive, maybe even a bit amused.
"Yeah, my mom and dad are big fans of yours," I replied instantly, covering my tracks. I vaguely remembered Dad mentioning them once, but honestly, I hadn't cared enough to research. I definitely didn't expect to meet a real-life cartoon character today.
"So what are you looking for?" Danny asked, his voice friendlier now, as if we'd passed some unspoken test.
"I want an acoustic guitar, but I don't know how to choose," I admitted. I wanted something I could play solo and still look good while singing—something classic, something that would fit the image I had in my head.
Danny nodded and started showing us different guitars, pointing out their unique features, the tonewoods, the feel of the neck, how the sound would change with each. He strummed a few chords on each, his fingers moving effortlessly, and then, just for fun, he sang a verse of an old Love Händle song. The notes filled the shop, warm and nostalgic, and for a moment, Alex and I were just vibing, swaying a little, caught up in the music. When he finished, we both clapped and cheered.
"You're still really good," Alex said, her voice full of genuine admiration. I nodded in agreement.
Danny grinned, a little sheepish but clearly pleased. "Thank you. I live for rock n' roll."
After that, we split up a bit to browse. Alex wandered over to a rack of ukuleles, her fingers running over the polished wood. She picked one up and strummed a few chords, and I could tell by her posture and the way her hands moved that she wasn't a beginner. She smiled at the sound, her eyes lighting up. Maybe she tried a few instruments before settling on cello.
By then, I'd picked out a sleek black acoustic guitar. It felt right in my hands, the weight balanced, the finish smooth and glossy. I turned to Alex, holding it up. "Do you like that?" I asked.
She glanced over and nodded, her smile soft. "Yeah, I always wanted one as a kid but forgot about them because of the cello."
I saw my chance. "How about I buy it as a gift for you?"
She looked up, surprised. "No! You don't have to do that," she said quickly, her cheeks turning pink. I could tell she hadn't meant to hint or ask for anything.
"But I want to," I said, my tone gentle but firm. She protested a little more, but when I insisted, she finally accepted, her eyes shining with gratitude.
We moved on to the keyboards. I'd always wanted a piano, but there was no way it would fit at home, so I went for the most expensive keyboard they had—weighted keys, all the bells and whistles, perfect for learning and composing.
"Hey Danny, can you pack these up for me? We'll pick them up after eating something," I called out.
He nodded, ringing up the total. $3,200. I didn't even flinch. It was expensive but everything that I bought was professional grade and I also knew it would be worth it once I started playing like a pro. Alex looked a little worried as I paid.
"I can pay for that ukulele, you know," she said, her voice almost shy. She didn't want me to feel like I had to impress her with money. That was one of the reasons I liked her—she was thoughtful, not materialistic like other girls. But I also know that girls like guys who can pay for them.
I smiled at her. "I told you, don't worry about it. I got my first paycheck today and I wanted to do something nice for you."
She blushed, and instead of arguing, she just gave me a quick, heartfelt hug. I could feel her warmth, her gratitude, and it made me even happier with my decision.
Then we went around looking for something to eat she held my hand between my arms while we walked. It did look a little funny seeing her acting so cute because I was way taller than her.
We decided to eat at the food court. I was craving burgers and fries, and she ordered pasta. We sat across from each other, the table littered with trays and napkins, and just talked. I asked about her family, and she opened up, telling stories about her parents and siblings, her voice full of affection even when she was complaining. I managed to steer the conversation toward her uncle Mitchell, and she laughed, sharing a few funny stories about his quirks and how he'd probably grill me if we ever needed legal advice.
Now I have an excuse to ask for his number later when I need a lawyer. We also joked about becoming street musicians if all else failed, but then actually started discussing it seriously—what it would be like to travel, to play music for strangers, to just live in the moment. The idea felt freeing, like a secret dream neither of us had ever said out loud before. I knew that Alex wanted to be a musician later in her life, so it was my plan to steer her slowly in that direction.
After lunch, we wandered the mall, just enjoying being together. Eventually, I asked, "Do you wanna hang out at my place?"
"Yeah, sure," she replied, trying to sound casual, but when I mentioned that no one would be home, her face went red. We both knew what that meant, and the air between us crackled with anticipation.
We swung by Danny's shop to collect our packages, then called an Uber. I slung the guitar box over my back, balanced the keyboard in my hands, and Alex carried her ukulele. The car ride home was mostly silent, but it wasn't awkward—just charged, both of us lost in our own thoughts about what might happen next. I ordered a stack of music theory, guitar, piano, and Spanish books from Amazon on my phone, sneaking the order in while Alex was distracted by her own messages. She got a call from her mom, and I listened as she smoothly told her she was with friends at the movies.
When we got to my house, it felt smaller than Alex's, but it was cozy, perfect for three people. I handed Alex the packages to hold for a second and told her, "Can you reach for my keys in my pocket? My hands are full." She blushed but reached in, her hand lingering a little longer than necessary. The moment was brief, but it sent a jolt through both of us.
Inside, I set the packages down in the living room. "Welcome to the house," I said, trying to sound casual, but the air was thick with anticipation. We stood there for a moment, sunlight streaming through the curtains, the world narrowing to just the two of us.
Alex set her ukulele down, her eyes meeting mine with a nervous, excited smile. I stepped closer, feeling the tension build. "Welcome," I repeated, my voice soft. She laughed, breathless, and I could see the anticipation in her eyes.
We closed the distance, drawn together by that invisible pull. I reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering on her cheek. She leaned into my touch, eyes fluttering shut. I leaned in and kissed her, gentle at first, testing. Her hands found my shoulders, gripping lightly, and she melted into the kiss.
I pulled her closer, hands sliding from her waist to her hips, feeling her body pressed against mine. Her breath quickened, her lips parting under mine. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more hungry. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, and I let my hands slide down to her bottom, squeezing gently. She let out a soft gasp, her body arching into mine.
We stumbled back onto the couch, tangled together, the world outside fading away. The kiss grew wilder, more desperate, our hands exploring, memorizing. Her heart pounded against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own. Every touch, every sigh, every shiver felt electric.
We broke apart for a moment, breathless, our foreheads pressed together. "My parents won't be home for at least two more hours," I whispered, hinting at what might come next. She didn't reply, just looked into my eyes, her cheeks flushed. Then, with a sudden burst of confidence, she threw herself at me, kissing me again, and everything else melted away.
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A/N: In the next chapter they are doing it. Chapter 27: Frist time (R-18)
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