Page 4 of That First Moment

“Everything okay?” Elliot asked once the light from my phone died.

“Yeah.” I shoved my phone back into my bag. “My sister tends to worry a bit more than necessary. She just wants to make sure her twenty-five-year-old sister makes it home safely.”

“Twenty-five?” Elliot asked, his voice a little lower than normal. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as twenty-five.”

“And how old did you think I was?” I leaned away from him, glaring at him through the darkness.

His eyes widened. “I’d rather not say. I know assuming a woman’s age gets you in trouble.”

“You thought I was closer to Maddy’s age, right?” I asked.

Elliot shrugged but didn’t say anything.

“You can say you thought I was older; I won't get offended,” I egged him on.

“No, I . . .” He coughed. “I thought you were younger.”

“Oh, good, well I’ll take that. And you?” I relaxed back in my seat.

“Thirty-six.”

“I think I knew that.”

“It’s Google-able.”

“Google-able?”

He nodded. “Yeah, if you look up the band. We’re easy to find—all our information is there”

“I’ll be honest, I don't even know what your band is called. I don’t think Madeline has ever told me.”

“Did you not see the giant logo on Chase’s drums?”

I clenched my teeth and shook my head. “Sorry, I was too busy paying attention to Milo and Maddy.”

“Fair.” He sighed. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Jameson thought of it.” Elliot took a deep breath, “We’re calledSavaged Whittakers.”

“Savaged . . . Whittakers?” I bit back a smile. “Explain, please.”

“Bennett Savage, Elliot Whittaker.Savaged Whittakerssounded better thanWhittaker Savaged.” The corners of Elliot’s lips twitched, like he was holding back a grin. “Jameson came up with it when we were stuck. He said that since Bennett and I started the band, it made sense.”

“I guess it does. I always wondered how bands got their name.”

“It’s a mixture of things.”

“What's harder, naming the band or writing the songs?” I twisted so I leaned on the center console, loving how he was loosening up. Maybe he wasn’t how I initially pegged him. My mind went to a hot-headed rockstar—one who could get anything and anyonehe wanted. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe the rockstar persona was only one side to him.

“Definitely naming the band.” He laughed.Okay, I like that laugh.“I guarantee you it almost caused a breakup.”

“I’m pretty sure you would have figured out how to make it work.” I smiled, having a feeling he wouldn’t be able to stay off that stage for long. “And the tattoo?” I asked.

He lifted his hand from the steering wheel and rotated his forearm. I saw the sketch of a guitar, the pick board, and sound hole, complete with bridge and string, leading up to an unfinished neck.

“It’s just a part of the band,” he answered, his smile widening. “So, it's your turn. You work with Madeline?”

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