Heartstrings.

My parents always said, 

'Put a guitar in a boy's hand and he's immediately ten times more attractive'. 

(Obviously, my parents are musicians.)
It started in middle school, when the boys I was in love with, including my first kiss, were allowed to use the band room at lunch for band practice. Bush songs and Nirvana covers as sung by preteen rocker boys were what made us girls swoon.

Does the same apply to the ladies, I wonder.

Cut to college, when my stoner/frat-boy boyfriend and his friends sang acoustic Sublime covers in their dingy windowless apartment. On their musty hand-me down couches, I melted at the sight of my scruffy blonde boyfriend picking at the strings of his guitar surrounded by Jimi Hendrix posters and glass bongs.
Now, nearly ten years later, I've gone on one date with a boy who last night very cryptically gave me the website for his band, telling me to listen to one in particular because, 'It would change my life'. 
Some of it's really good, some of it's a little too 'Jesse's Girl'-esque for my tastes.

Between listening to him sing and remembering the way he looked at me during his lecture on conceptual mathematics & the most important numbers in the universe, 
I can't stop thinking about him.

Update: After a bit of online stalking, I've realized that my Jesse's Girl reference is pretty dead on, as from what I can tell, it's a hispter/tongue-in-cheek eighties cover band. Oh thank god.