"A little bit of a Ray LaMontagne fan?" Trent asks with pure amusement in his voice.
"You have no idea! If I could have sex with his voice, I would," I admit as I tap my fingers on the passenger door to the beat of one of my favorite songs.
Trent looks over at me as he comes to a stop at a red light. His blue eyes pull me in, and I'm just looking back at him, letting his eyes wash over me and grab my soul. Normally, this quiet silence would make me feel uncomfortable and awkward, but I relish the opportunity to just take in this moment with him.
We're speaking with our eyes instead of our mouths.
His mouth. Oh, his beautiful, beautiful mouth.
Pink full lips that are just begging my teeth to bite. Because of the intense combination of the sexy voice playing over the speakers and Trent's blue-as-the-sky eyes, I'm feeling seven shades of horny. I can practically hear my vagina encouraging me to straddle Trent's lap and grind myself all over him. He gives me a wicked, seductive grin as he slowly pulls his eyes away from mine and pushes on the gas when the light turns green.
"I'm a little jealous right now." Trent's truck starts to accelerate onto the highway.
"Jealous?" I'm extremely curious and secretly enjoying the idea that Trent is jealous.
"Yeah, babe. I'm jealous that another man's voice has that effect on my Ellie girl."
I like the idea of being his far too much. The sixteen-year-old girl in me is scribbling “I love Trent Hamilton” in big fat bubble letters with corny hearts all over her girly notebook as we speak.
I'm left a little dumbstruck at his recent declaration of being his. I'm internally beaming as I continue to sing the lyrics to one of my favorite Ray LaMontagne songs. This song is the absolute sweetest—a man declaring that a woman is the best thing in his entire life.
What girl wouldn't love the idea of this?
This is the ultimate fantasy, perfect dream, and wish come true for every girl out there, no matter how much she denies it. This song is hands down the best declaration of love anyone could hope for. I picture John Cusack standing outside my window with a stereo blaring this song. This song is like The Notebook, Say Anything, and Sixteen Candles combined into one perfect, lyrically beautiful track.
Trent and I talk about my love for Ray Montagne and specifically this song. I give him a little insight into how amazing I think the lyrics really are. I tell him that it's every girl's dream to have a guy feel about her the way You Are The Best Thing describes. It paints the perfect picture of love, friendship, and fairytale happiness. Trent seems to find my keenness for one single song "adorable"—his word not mine.
I know I'm making it blatantly obvious that, although my heart was broken not too long ago, I'm still a romantic deep down. I still want to find the one guy to sweep me off my feet. My knight-in-shining armor, my prince on the white horse, my "You had me at hello" perfect man. Now, I know this isn't completely realistic, and I definitely don't want perfection. I just want someone who will love every part of me, including the obnoxious, sarcastic, and often times awkward Elle. And although I'm desperately trying not to admit it, Trent is looking more and more like this guy every moment I spend with him.
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" I ask him as I look around at my current surroundings.
"Nope." He looks over at me with a sweet smile and warmness to his eyes.
"You're killing me, Casanova. Killing me." I continue to browse through his music selection and choose another big favorite of mine. The soulful voice of Van Morrison starts to fill the air as he sings Brown-Eyed Girl. I quickly roll down my window and turn off the air conditioning. I turn up the music and start to loudly sing along with one of the all-time greats. I let the warm breeze of the summer air wash over my face and long, auburn locks. This song is downright lovely, and it soothes my soul into utter contentment. Brown-Eyed Girl reminds me of summer and sunshine and young love.
Trent starts to sing along with me, and I'm not going to lie, his voice isn't perfect, but the huskiness definitely has a sultry sexiness. I could quite honestly listen to him sing to me every single day of the week. Trent rolls his window down and we continue to sing along to Brown-Eyed Girl together as we head down one of Charlotte's main highways.
I'm pleasantly surprised when Trent pulls off of the highway into downtown Charlotte. He obviously took the very long way in order to keep me on my toes. We head into Uptown Charlotte, a really nice part of downtown. The real estate in this area is extremely expensive. I'm expecting him to take me to dinner at a nice restaurant but realize that he's got a whole different type of date planned.
"So I'm making you dinner tonight," he reveals as he pulls in front of a very upscale and modern looking building.