Unwritten Rules (7 page)

“I’m wel aware of that, thanks,” I snapped, placing my wal et in my tote.

She shot me a look that told me I’d taken her joke far too seriously, and I knew I had. I felt too raw, and yes dammit, ashamed. My stalker tendencies seemed to be out of control when it came to Jonah. It was as if I had no boundaries.

In the interest of apologizing and making sure the rest of our shopping trip didn’t suck, I placed my arm around her slender shoulders and squeezed a little.

“Sorry, babes. I don’t have the first clue as to what’s going on with me at the moment. I’m losing my mind.”

“Not at al ,” she answered, shaking her head, her white hair lashing at my cheeks which each twist. “You’re just fixated on your neighbor. I thought sex would smooth it out for you. I was wrong.

Maybe you need to be with someone else, you

know, flush him out of your system?”

“No way!” I protested, as we turned the corner.

“I’m not messing around with another random stranger. Look where this one got me.”

I moved closer to her, feeling anxious as more people fil ed the streets. I tried not to al ow my attack to change my life, but at times, my nerves took over. The jostling of people walking on the street heightened my awareness of my surrounding.

“It was just an idea...oops, bet that’s Eli.” She smiled when her cel began to ring.

I tuned her out as she started talking to him. I locked myself in my own world, trying to sort through the haphazard thoughts that were locked there. I’d assumed confessing to my best friend would help me work through them, but they were worse than before. Every time I closed my eyes I could see Jonah hovering above me, feel him inside of me, and taste him on my lips. It was a continual torture that I couldn’t escape.

J.J. was stil talking to Eli on her cel when we entered the coffee shop. I left my purchases at the table with her and went to get our drinks. There wasn’t a line; it took only a few moments before I returned with two caramel Macchiatos. J.J. winced when she saw how much whipped cream they’d placed on the top. I laughed. It wasn’t as if she needed to watch her weight; I’d seen more fat on a fry. She didn’t stay annoyed for very long, and as she gave Elijah al the details about her altercation with a model yesterday, the details about her altercation with a model yesterday, she spooned the frothy cream into her mouth.

I grinned, moaning when the flavor burst across my own tongue. My eyes fluttered closed as I slumped further down into the large armchair. The sounds of the store floated around me, and every now and again J.J. would give a snort or purr into her cel . I was just about to drift off when my stomach growled with ferocity.

“Go and get a muffin or something, El e,” J.J. scowled. “We’l be here a little while yet. Eli thinks it wil be about an hour before he can meet us.”

I hadn’t even realized we were meeting Eli, not that it mattered. The mood was always jovial when he was around. If I went home, I’d be left to design two websites. I was definitely in favor of staying here to drink my coffee and nap.

“Want anything?” I asked, standing up.

When she shook her head, turning slightly so that she could whisper into the receiver, I walked over to the cash register. There were a few people waiting in front of me. I mental y cursed myself for not picking something when I bought the coffees. The two young girls in front of me were squealing and chattering so loud it was difficult to ignore them.

“So Cali went over to him, and he basical y sang the whole song to her. I mean, he has
never
done that before!”

“I’m so jealous I couldn’t come. At least they’re stil playing tonight. What are you wearing?”

The blond tossed her curtain of hair over her

shoulder, almost choking me with the waft of cheap, toxic perfume that came my way. Her raven-haired friend gazed at her in awe, and waiting patiently for her response.

“I was thinking about that black tube top. You know, the one I wear with the plaid tutu style skirt?”

“Oh my God, yes!” The raven-haired girl squealed.

“You total y should. Your boobs look so hot in that top. Jonah wil definitely notice you in that. Maybe he’l sing to you.”

My heart thundered in my chest as my breath

caught. Jonah? Now I was hearing his name when it hadn’t even been spoken. I was going mad. It was the only logical explanation.

“I would melt,” The blond added. “I actual y think I would melt at Jonah Quinn’s feet. A pool of Phoebe goo.”

“Eww! Do you think he’d scoop you up and eat

you?”

“Gross, Bex. Total y gross.”

They took a step forward and ordered their

coffees. While they waited for their drinks to be made, I couldn’t stop the question from spil ing from my lips.

“Excuse me...um, you guys know Jonah? Jonah

Quinn?”

The dark-haired one –
Bex,
eyed me warily, but the blond was more than happy to confess al .

“Yeah, we fol ow his band everywhere. They’re

gonna be huge one day. You know him too?”

I nodded, not exactly sure we were even talking about the same guy. Then again, how many men with that name could there be in this city? I knew Jonah played, so no matter how much I wanted to deny it, I couldn’t.

“Were you at
The Cellar
last night? He looked amazing! Are you coming tonight?”

I blinked, thinking fast.

“Couldn’t make it last night, but yeah, I’m on for tonight. I heard the band had changed the venue though.”

“No way!” Bex almost screamed. “
Noir
always play at the
Cellar
. We’d have heard if they had, wouldn’t we, Phoebe?”

Phoebe nodded, col ecting her paper cup of

coffee and standing further over to the side. Bex did the same, and as I was ordering a blueberry muffin they both waved goodbye.

“See you tonight at eight then.”

I smiled, wiggling my fingers goodbye, as I picked up the smal green plate that held my muffin. I scuttled back to J.J., who was just ending her cal with Eli. My smile was huge as I flopped into the oversized armchair.

“Wel , you certainly brightened up. Told you that you needed some caffeine,” she grinned, taking a sip of her own.

“It’s not that.”

“No?”

I shook my head, my cheeks starting to hurt from my grin. I wondered if I could get her to the bar without tel ing her why we were going.

“Are you busy tonight?” I al but bounced.

“Um...no, but whatever you have in mind needs to be Eli friendly.”

“Yup.”

She eyed me skeptical y, waiting only a moment before asking, “Did you take some uppers while you were waiting for that muffin?”

“Seriously, J.J.! I’m just giddy about going out tonight. Is that not al owed?”

“Depends.” She shrugged. “You stil haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“Too see a band.”

“And that band is?” She probed.

I took a deep breath, before answering with,

“Jonah’s band.
Noir
.”

Her eyes grew as wide as saucers seconds

before a sly smirk formed across her lips. “Oh, El e...this is good. So very, very good!”

I gazed into the mirror, taking in my appearance, as my heart thumped heavily in my chest. I was bouncing with excitement, so much so that I couldn’t sit stil . No man had ever made me feel like this, and in some ways I hated Jonah for my loss of control. I turned into someone I barely recognized when he was near, so I made a bargain with myself.

Tonight I was going to show Jonah Quinn exactly who I was, and what he’d walked away from. I would make him regret his decision to leave me alone on his couch. I applied another quick coat of clear lip gloss, and placed my feet into the hot pink heels. The color matched the trim on my strapless, black tank, as wel as brightened up my black skinny jeans. I spent extra time on my hair, making the red curls shine and bounce as I turned my head. J.J. insisted on applying my makeup, but I’d vehemently refused. Tonight I was claiming a bit of myself back, from both my attacker and Jonah.

I refused to let either situation get to me as they’d been doing. Tonight I was going to forget it, and make Jonah see just what he was letting slip through his fingers.

“Are you ready?” J.J. shouted from the kitchen. I stepped into her line of vision, and did a smal twirl. She gave a little clap, making me smile and curtsy.

“I stil think you should have gone with the short skirt.”

I raised a single brow at her, my gaze traveling from top to toe. She had taken the minimal option when it came to tonight’s wardrobe. Her blue dress seemed nothing more than a series of four bands of fabric, yet she looked stunning. The color made her hair appear even paler; her skin creamier.

“I’m wearing these, so drop it,” I grinned at her. She tossed me my smal purse, and we strutted

out of my apartment.

Pul ing up to
Cellar
was easy, given that we had no problem flagging down a cab with the outfit J.J. was wearing. I stepped out of the cab, hearing the music playing within the building. I suddenly felt nervous. J.J. sensed it, but in a style so true to her nature, she laughed and shoved me through the door. I was bombarded by sights, smel s, and sounds as we entered. It took me a good few minutes to acclimatize myself.

The band wasn’t on stage yet, but the bar was ful of eager patrons. I noticed a smal sign at the side of the bar declaring,
Noir. Live tonight!
I was hoping to see a photo of the band. I tried to convince myself that I had this al wrong, but there wasn’t one. Only words.

“Eli!” J.J. shouted, much too close to my ear. I cringed, trying to remove myself from her, hoping to gain my hearing back. J.J.’s man of the month raced forward, sweeping her close to him and spinning her around. I watched them, amazed that she wasn’t bothered by his immature behavior. In fact, she seemed to thrive off it.

Eli was eight years younger than J.J., and it

showed. He acted like a drunken frat boy most of the time and dressed like one too. I had been shocked when J.J. informed me he was a model; that they met on a shoot. I expected him to be much more stylish, but he lived in his worn sweats and holey T-shirts.

He made it obvious that didn’t care what people thought of him. He was al about the fun and refused to participate in anything that wasn’t.

“How are you doing there, El e?” Eli asked,

pushing his auburn hair back from his face with his fingers. It looked like it needed a damn good wash.

“Good, thanks. You?”

He didn’t have a chance to answer, because the room was fil ed with hoots and hol ers as the band walked onto the smal stage.

I gawked, my mouth dropping open, as Jonah

took to the mic.

“Hey, everyone. We’re Noir, and this is Lightning Strikes.”

The drummer clicked his sticks, counting the

guitarist in, and the whole room cheered at the opening chords of the song. Jonah plucked at the strings; his guitar resting on his naked torso, because his black shirt was unbuttoned and the sides were left hanging open. I stepped closer, noticing one of the girls from the coffee shop at the edge of the stage, gazing up at him in adoration. Suddenly, as if sensing me, he looked in my

direction. His eyes met mine, piercing me with ferocity. He sang gently into the mic, his fingers teasing the strings of his guitar, but those eyes never left me. I swal owed, my skin tingling under his attention.

I knew this song.

In fact, I could recite the chorus word for word, so when it began I couldn’t stop myself. I mouthed them as Jonah al but breathed it. His voice so low, so soft, that it made me shiver.

In the dark of night, or the light of day

It’s you.

Alone in my bed, or the center of a fray,

It’s you.

It’s you.

Always you.

I imagined he was singing to me; tel ing me things he couldn’t verbalize. My body began to melt at his words. The other girls I’d seen earlier in the coffee shop were edging closer to the stage, baring every inch of available flesh they could. Jonah never once looked their way. I was entranced by his music, hypnotized by his lyrics. One song flowed into the next, each word holding my complete attention.

As J.J. handed me a beer, I took it absently, only taking a sip when Jonah broke eye contact. Everything else faded around me. It was as if he was singing for me, and only me.

Just like when we were in our apartments.

Was he asking internal questions about my

appearance here while he sang? Did my presence touch him as much as his did me?

My own questions continued throughout his entire set, and I was startled when he pul ed the guitar over his head, setting it down on the stage. The night had gone by too fast. Jonah jumped from the stage, ignoring the requests for a photos or autographs. His eyes were locked on mine; his face serious, and as he approached he held his hand out for me to take.

“El e,” he almost whispered. “How did you know?”

I shook my head, feeling my throat close with

emotion. My cheeks were hot from mortification, even though I shouldn’t be ashamed. He had been the one to leave me.