Unwritten Rules (6 page)

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Don’t thank me.”

“Why not?” I asked, stil enveloped in post-coital bliss, therefore missing the edge to his words. He stroked my arm, rubbing his chin across the top of my head and ruffling my hair. “You didn’t need this. I took advantage.”

“You didn’t! Jonah, I was-”

“I just want you to know that I’m not usual y like this. I don’t...
interact
wel ,” he lamented, his legs rubbing seductively against mine.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Your

interaction made me very happy.”

Jonah huffed, his arms banding around me.

“Shush,” he soothed. “Rest now.”

I blinked, startled by his words. Did he want me to sleep here? In his arms?

After a speedy debate, I decided to just go with it and close my eyes. Tomorrow was another day. I would take whatever it threw my way, because right now I was happy in Jonah’s comforting embrace.

As I lay in his arms, my mind slowly began to work again, processing the events of the evening. Jonah had felt as desperate as I had for comfort, but why? I didn’t believe for one moment that the attack on me had affected him in the same way, so what had happened in those few hours to make him so sad? Whatever it was, I had been the one to make it better for him, just as he had for me. I couldn’t stop pride from building within me. We’d calmed each other. No matter what the repercussions were tomorrow, I couldn’t regret what we’d just done. I hoped he didn’t either.

“Stop thinking, El e,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Sleep or at least nap.”

“But, Jonah, what just-”

“Sleep,” he interrupted, shutting me down and

showing there was no room for debate.

I took a lung ful of his scent and closed my eyes,

knowing this moment would be over the minute I opened them. Right here, right now, we were close. I wasn’t in a rush for it to end. So I remained quiet and listened to his slow, steady breaths, as I tried to fight the fatigue. Eventual y it won and I closed my eyes, fal ing into a peaceful sleep.

I knew he was gone the moment I woke. I didn’t need to open my eyes to feel the lack of his warm body on the couch. It was obvious he hadn’t been there for some time. It was cold. Sadness surrounded me, but then what had I expected? Hugs? Kisses? A repeat performance?

I sat up, feeling self-conscious in the cold light of day and reached for Jonah’s discarded wife beater. I brought it to my nose, inhaling before pul ing it over my head. The shirt didn’t cover much of my body, but it would do until I found the rest of my clothes. The clock on the wal showed that I’d only been asleep a couple of hours. I wondered if Jonah moving from the couch had been what woke me. I scanned the apartment, noting it was exactly as it had been when I’d arrived. Jonah was nowhere to be seen.

He had left me.

What was I supposed to do now? Had he left the apartment, only to return when he was sure I’d gone back home? Anxiety churned in my stomach at the thought of that. I knew this incident would appear different when we woke, but was it so horrible for him that he couldn’t stay to see me and at least acknowledge what had happened?

I fumbled with my discarded clothing, trying not to cry or think too much about why he’d left me. I quickly checked the bedroom, confirming to myself more than anything, that I was alone. It was self-torture, but I needed the proof. When the reality was undeniable, I shoved my leggings on and walked to the front door.

That was when I saw the note. It was taped to the door, nothing more than a piece of paper torn from a notebook with two words penciled across it.

I’m sorry.

I whined, ripped it from the wood, and slammed the door behind me. I didn’t bother with the elevator; I wanted to lock myself in my own apartment and hide from my foolishness. I should have known it was too good to be true. I’d ignored the voice in my head that told me this wasn’t going to end wel . I thought I knew better. I thought it wouldn’t feel as bad, but rejection was rejection. It stil clawed at my heart whether I thought I’d prepared myself or not. We’d shared very few words, knew next to nothing about each other, and yet I’d shared my body – my most intimate moments, with him. What the hel had I expected?

I stormed into my apartment, my shame turning to anger, as I stalked right to the bathroom. I took off my leggings, discarding them on the floor and turned on the shower. It was only when I reached for the hem of my top that I realized I was stil wearing Jonah’s wife beater. It smel ed of us. I wanted to tear it up before shoving it into his mailbox, but I couldn’t. Instead, I turned off the water and walked dejectedly to my bedroom. I snuggled up in my blanket stil wearing his clothes and felt Meow pad onto the mattress, before coming to rest near my head. He pushed his nose against mine, wanting me to cuddle him, so I brought him close as he purred against my hand. Maybe Meow was the only male I should al ow in my life. He certainly would be there when I woke up.

“So that’s it?” J.J. questioned, picking up a tight pink dress and measuring it against her slim form. I moaned, trying on a pair of sunglasses. “I guess so, but then again, I have no idea.”

“Have you tried knocking on his damn door?”

“I went back the same afternoon, J.J. I told you this! But I’m not going to beg for it.”

“Why not?” She laughed.

I glared at her, placing my hands on my hips,

hoping she’d understand this time. “Jonah Quinn is a stunningly beautiful enigma, but I won’t make him open up to me-”

“Seems like he already did that,” she interrupted, backing away and smirking when I pouted at her.

“I’m just saying, the guy was good in bed, right?”

She tucked a strand of her white-blond hair behind her ear, then toyed with a smal silver hoop that adorned the lobe.

“So why would you let that get away? The guy is on your doorstep.”

“And that means I automatical y have to make him my booty cal ?”

I didn’t wait for a response; I stalked from the store leaving her openmouthed.

I loved my friend, but she was so matter-of-fact sometimes that I couldn’t help but get frustrated. I wasn’t like her, and this city was stil so new to me. By no means was I shy. I’d had my fair share of one-night stands, but I had thought Jonah was more than that. J.J. based everyone’s experiences on her own, and because of the way she saw the world, she seemed abrupt when giving advice. By al accounts, J.J. had always been a free spirit; even her parents found it difficult to get her to abide by any rules. She had broke every single one of them when she married a man she’d known for two weeks in Vegas. She filed for divorce a month later. Her parents had been livid, but J.J. brushed it off and moved on. Her motto was that she never regretted the things she’d done; only what she hadn’t. That was what she lived by. She slept with who she wanted, regardless of gender or age, and right now, she was seeing Elijah who was eight years younger than her. Before Eli, there had been Roxi. She was hilarious and real y great keeping J.J. centered. I was surprised when she told me it was over between them, and more than a little shocked when she met Eli three days later. J.J. was like a whirlwind. You either went along for the ride or got flung out by the vortex. I met her days after moving to New York. She had been running out of a coffee shop and ended up spil ing her latte al over my top. If it had happened to me back home I would have raged on the person, but for some reason we both burst out laughing. We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting, not giving the drying coffee stain a second thought.

J.J.’s advice was always the same; take it or

leave it. In truth, she wasn’t bothered, because she lived her life, not anyone else’s. I often wished I could go about life as carefree as her, but my insecurities always crept through; more-so when it came to men. Men who crept away while I slept.

“Hey, wait up!” J.J. shouted, pul ing on my arm. Her ice blue eyes pierced mine, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“J.J., you just don’t get it. I can’t be like you and just brush his rejection off.”

“You don’t know that it is rejection,” she pointed out, looping her arm into mine and steering us down the street.

“I don’t need him to say the words.”

“El e, you have no idea what was going on in his head, and you haven’t been back to ask him either. So how do you know it was rejection? He could have told you to get out as soon as you guys finished the dirty deed, but he didn’t. He asked you to sleep next to him, actual y
sleep
with him. Guys don’t do that,” she pointed out smugly.

“And that means what?” I asked, bringing us to a halt in the middle of the street.

I stared at her, unsure as to why she couldn’t see
that
significance. I was about to speak when she read my mind. “Oh, I’m not stupid. I get you, but do you real y think a guy you’ve spoken to a handful of times is going to want you in his bed? Think about it. Then go and talk to him.”

I couldn’t argue with her; she did have a point, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. I pursed my lips, and for the second time today, left her gaping as I walked into the nearest store. I could hear her heels clicking on the ground as she fol owed me. We were firmly inside the store by the time I looked around.

I scrunched my nose in distaste, gazing at the shelves ful of graphic novels, huge cardboard cut-outs of superheroes, and groups of gothed-out teenagers. I’d had no idea where I was walking when I stormed off from J.J. Obviously I need to look before I leap. Wasn’t that the story of my life?

“New reading material?” J.J. laughed.

I rol ed my eyes, mortification flaming my cheeks.

“You’re not funny,” I started, but was unable to stop the smile that was teasing my lips.

“I’m not the one that walked into a teenage boy’s wet dream.”

“Shut up and let’s get out of here.”

I stalked to the door, reaching for the handle when something caught my eye. I stopped abruptly, about to turn around, when J.J. walked straight into my back.

“Hey!”

I ignored her, heading straight for the graphic novel display in the corner of the store. The drawing on the front of one cal ed to me; I’d seen it before, but it was where I’d seen it that left me so perplexed. It was the tattoo on Jonah’s ribcage; I was certain.

I picked the paper novel up, skimming my fingers across the front cover. The image was haunting – a man dressed in black, the only features I could make out were his thin lips and hard set jaw, because a large hood concealed his face. Everything else was covered in fabric or shadow. He seemed to be an assassin of sorts; the text simply stated
Darkness
. The only annotation to an author was a smal circle surrounded by a larger one, fol owed by a diagonal line running through the dead center.

“So you real y have found something new,” J.J. sighed.

“Jonah has this,” I pointed out. “This image – this man, Jonah has it tattooed on his side.”

“So he’s a closet geek then.”

“I...I don’t know. Maybe.”

I frowned, transfixed by the picture on the cover. J.J. was grumbling, wanting to get out of the store, but I didn’t want to put the book down. So, on a whim, I took it to the register and handed it to the boy with a face ful of makeup behind the counter.

“This guy is awesome. Nice choice, lady. Did you check out his other work? It’s al on the stand in the corner.”

I nodded, handing him my credit card, as he

continued. “He has another one coming out next month. The pre-order sales are through the roof.”

J.J. snickered, bumping her hip against mine. She was teasing me, but who the hel could blame her? I seemed to have left my sanity on Jonah’s couch. I accepted my purchase, taking note of the flyer he placed in the paper bag, and shuffled from the store. I couldn’t meet J.J.’s gaze, because I knew she was laughing at me. I was laughing right along with her. Who the hel buys a graphic novel with as to what one even is?

“I real y need a coffee, El e, and to be honest, I think caffeine withdrawal is doing something weird to you. Maybe if you had a double-shot espresso you’d realize what you just bought.”