"Heart Strings"

Tabitha’s fingers curled around the neck of her guitar, stretching in every direction. “I can’t do it. My fingers don’t bend that way.” Stupid guitar.

“Remember your wrist." Sam reached over and delicately adjusted Tabitha’s grip. His touch sent shivers up her arm. Moments like this kept Tabitha coming back for lessons every week.

With more attention to her wrist, Tabitha formed the chord with her left hand and strummed the strings with her right. A twang and a thunk emitted from her instrument. She sighed.

“Don’t get frustrated. Press the strings firmer.” Sam’s voice was calming.

Another attempt. This time, a few melodious tones accompanied the twang.

“See? Better. Just keep practicing and your fingers will get used to that position. Your muscles will get stronger.” Sam glanced up at the clock. “Well, that’s our time.”

Tabitha latched up her case. “So, I’ll see you next week?”

Sam chewed his lip. His face reddened. He was kinda cute when he squirmed. But what was the matter?

“Actually, I can’t be your teacher anymore. Ross Johnson has an opening at this time, so he can take you.”

Tabitha’s heart sunk all the way to her stomach, and a wave of nausea hit her. But why couldn’t he be her teacher? Was she not progressing enough? Did he feel she wasn’t a good student? She didn’t want a new teacher. If it weren’t for Sam, she would have given up the blasted guitar ages ago. “I don’t understand. Are you leaving the store?”

“No.” Sam shifted in his seat. “Conflict of interest.”

“What does that mean? Conflict of interest. What’s conflicting?”

“Teachers aren’t supposed to date students.”

Did he just say that? Tabitha’s mouth slowly fell open, but she couldn’t formulate any sounds. They sat in silence for a good ten seconds, though it felt like forever.

“Say something.” His eyes searched hers. Those amazing, caramel eyes with the gold flecks.

She needed to hear him say what she’d been wanting him to say. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“I…uh…” He rubbed the back of his head. “Tabitha, I think you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Inside and out.”

Her heart started beating out the rhythm of a rock song. A smile crept into her lips.

Sam continued, his eyes now glued on the floor. “I understand if you don’t feel anything for me, but I just can’t sit through another lesson and pretend I can concentrate on trying to teach you anything. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad teacher.”

“You’re not a bad teacher at all. If I didn’t hate the guitar so much, I might have cared more about being a good student.”

“You hate the guitar?” His head cocked along with his brow.

“Playing it? Yes.”

“But why are you taking lessons?”

“Because the teacher is hot.” She smirked.

Realization and surprise crossed his face. Then a smile. A big, toothy, heck-yeah kind of smile. “I…you… This is awesome! Can I hug you?”

She nodded, and he leapt from his chair and pulled her into an embrace. It was better than she dreamed it would be. He smelled pretty gosh-darn good.

“So you’re not mad that I won’t be your teacher?” he asked with his hands still around her waist.

“Not at all. I’m relieved. Now I can quit. I think I’ll leave the guitar playing to you. Feel free to serenade me anytime.”

“How about we start with Friday night?”

“It’s a date.”

This piece was written as a submission to a magazine, but was not selected for publication. The rejection notice was actually really nice and complimented my writing. The lady said she hoped I would submit again. So...not quite a success, but the positive feedback is uplifting. I had submitted another story which was also rejected. Read it here: http://laradelliott.blogspot.com/2017/09/ringless.html