“How did you learn to play guitar?” He smirks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Church camp.” I blink. “Wait—seriously?” He nods. “Growing up in Minnesota, the only two places I was allowed to go outside of school were the hockey rink and church. Learning to play guitar got me out of doing far less enjoyable activities.” “Were you a choir boy?” I tease. He doesn’t return my smile. “Yes. And I did all the church plays, church bands, church youth groups. I spent every moment not in class or out on the ice being brainwashed into thinking everything I am, everything I want, everything
...more
