Unwritten Rules (2 page)

I swal owed, my body responding to his

closeness, as he startled me by clearing his throat. I froze. Would today be the day he final y introduced himself to me?

It wasn’t as if I didn’t know his name. During one of my chats with Mrs. Kindle, she had kindly let it slip that his name was Jonah Quinn. How she knew anything about him was a mystery, being he never talked to anyone.
Jonah Quinn
.

I smiled as I repeated his name in my head and had the stupidest of smiles on my face as he turned his head. I would have been thoroughly embarrassed when he turned to stare at me, had I not been transfixed on his eyes. Blue.

They were blue. The eyes that I had only imagined were the clearest azure I’d ever seen and, before I could stop it, a sigh escaped my lips. Mortification flooded my system as his eyes went wide in shock. In an instant, his back was to me as he ascended the stairs. Kicking myself, I tried to think of something to say. I wanted to stop him.

“I’m El e, by the way,” I final y blurted out before he disappeared.

My heart stopped, and I hung my head in shame. “I know.”

I froze, holding my breath. I wasn’t even sure he’d spoken, but I hoped he would continue. After five minutes of waiting, he had stil not returned. I was panting and completely mortified by my actions. I wasn’t a child. I’d propositioned my fair share of men in the past. So why the hel couldn’t I talk to Jonah without stuttering or blushing?

I stomped my feet on the floor, berating myself as I stalked upstairs. I couldn’t even bring myself to look Mrs. Kindle in the eyes when I saw her standing outside her apartment. She was holding a bag of kitty treats and waving them at me. I thought about opening the front door and pretending I hadn’t seen her. I just could not been that cruel.

“I bought these for Meow, honey.”

I plastered a fake smile on my face, graciously accepting them. She meant wel and had a fondness for my black cat. She often bought him fresh fish from the market, not the cheaper cuts either. I’m not sure if she had family in the area as I never saw anyone come by, so whenever she stopped me in the hal way I made sure to give her some of my time.

“Meow wil love them, but you’re spoiling him. He’s going to get fat.”

“Nonsense,” she said, brushing the comment off with a flick of her hand. “It’s not like I have anyone else to treat.”

She looked down at her floral dress, smoothing the fabric for want of something else to do. Hurt laced her words, and the ever present sympathy I felt for her began to surface. I reached out and patted her shoulder.

“Wel , Mrs. Kindle, I know Meow wil adore them. Thank you.”

I pushed at the door, waving goodbye and strode into my apartment. I tossed my keys on the smal glass table next to the door, and pul ed off the armband that held my iPod. It clunked on the glass top and right away Meow started to make himself known. He prowled across the wood floor, his tail twitching in greeting, as he purred loudly.

“Hel o, Puss,” I crooned, picking him up by

scooping him up underneath his fat bel y.

He nuzzled my neck, calming me in his own little way, as I walked across to my PC and turned it on. I needed to shower and get to work. I had two clients waiting on beta versions of the sites they were paying me to design, though I wasn’t sure how I’d concentrate after my altercation with Jonah. My body stil hummed with an ache I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I dropped Meow on the floor, and picked up my

cel , dialing my mom’s number. After moving to New York from Cape Cod fourteen months ago, I stil hadn’t gotten used to not seeing her every day. I missed her terribly but knew I needed to carve my own path. Our morning phone cal s brought me solace.

“Morning, baby,” my Mom’s gentle voice floated through the line.

I smiled, feeling better at the sound of her voice. I couldn’t talk to her about Jonah, I had my best friend J.J. for that. J.J. would never pass up a good gossip session. She was a makeup artist and spent most of her day chatting with models about their love lives. Talking to my mom about something so new wasn’t an option for me, though a conversation about what she would buy from the store today would do just fine.

“Hey, Momma. How’s your morning?”

She proceeded to tel me about what the

paperboy had done, how Mr. Lomas had purchased a new horse, and that the local store had employed a new cashier who did nothing but chat. I could imagine her sitting in her floral armchair, gazing out onto the beach as the sea breeze ruffled her curly hair. A wave of homesickness knocked the air from my lungs, causing me to gasp. Thankful y, my mom didn’t notice. She was stil going on about the happenings in our smal town.

I closed my eyes, letting her cadence ease my

longing, but something else distracted me from my thoughts. Music had begun to play upstairs, floating down from Jonah’s apartment and into mine.

He didn’t tend to play his guitar in the morning; it was normal y his piano. I was somewhat ashamed that I knew so much about him. J.J. had reasoned I was just being observant. I knew better. I wanted to know more now that he admitted he knew my name.

My mom talked away while I al owed the muffled chords of Jonah’s guitar float around me. Even with the ceiling between us I felt connected to him. It was as if he played just for me; my own personal concert and I lapped it up. He was very talented. I would’ve liked to have seen him play--to stand in front of him and watch his fingers, as they plucked at the strings. Just thinking of the possibility made me shiver, and though I’d never been one to be attracted to musicians in the past, I understood the al ure.

“El e, did you hear me? Are you stil there?”

“Sorry, Mom, guess I’m more exhausted after my run than I thought. Can I cal you back after I take a shower?”

“Wel , it would be better if I cal you later. I need to go to the store. I hope I don’t get little Miss Chatterbox. You go and rest, baby. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

I ended the cal and closed my eyes, letting

Jonah’s soft music envelope me. It sounded as if he was sad; the notes haunting as they floated through the floor of his apartment into mine. He didn’t know it, but most mornings I would take a moment and drink my coffee as he played a private concert on his piano for me. I could sense his moods by the style of music he played, more so when he was playing the piano. I wondered if he even knew I listened, let alone sensed his sadness. Would he stop playing if he found out?

I’d briefly entertained the idea that he must be a musician, but he rarely left his apartment. What kind of musician didn’t play to an audience?

I shook my head, deciding I couldn’t spend al

morning thinking of the gorgeous guy upstairs, and started for the bathroom. I was far too consumed with thoughts of Jonah Quinn. I needed a distraction. I needed to get laid. Jonah and getting laid? Today was going to be a long day. I stripped off my clothes and stepped under the cool spray, accepting that my lack of sexual release had to be the reason for my fixation on my neighbor. The moment the water began to sluice down my breasts al I could think of was Jonah’s hands doing the same. They’d be rougher than the water, cal oused from his playing, but they would float across the swel of my breasts with as much grace. I tipped my head back, wetting my hair, as I wondered how his lips would feel on the hol ow of my throat. Would he nibble when he kissed? Would he lick the droplets of water from my flesh, or would he be too busy devouring my mouth?

My breath hitched as more and more pictures of Jonah dominating me in the shower raced into my consciousness. My temperature rose. I made the water cooler in hopes it would snap me back to the present. However, each time I closed my eyes I saw his blues ones, and my abdomen clenched in arousal. My reaction to him was intense in the extreme. Never once, in my thirty years, had I ever had such need burning through me. Each time I saw him it seemed to escalate. He’d shown no signs of returning the attraction. ’It was a one-sided crush like those I’d had on TV or movie stars when I was younger, the kind that are better with distance.

Jonah may turn out to be a disappointment in

reality.

I scrubbed my skin with vigor, trying to cleanse al traces of my daydreams, but it didn’t work. I was stil hot, and my skin stil tingled for his touch. It was a masochistic addiction, because I couldn’t see myself ever getting a fix. He was just too shy. I could be my usual forward self, but that would just scare him away. I knew I should just draw a line under it and forget him. I snorted, knowing I was only fooling myself if I thought that was going to happen. There was something about Jonah that intrigued me; an invisible pul to know him.

J.J. told me once to knock on his door and

introduce myself, and honestly, with anyone else I would have, yet I couldn’t do it with him. It frustrated me. I tried to ignore it as I dressed and strol ed back to my PC. I had work to do, and obsessing about my infatuation wouldn’t help me meet my deadline. So, in the interest of keeping a roof over my head, I put my glasses on and focused. My job was made that bit easier when Jonah

stopped playing.

When Jonah stopped playing, I missed it

immediately. I groaned to myself as I realized I’d only managed to go two minutes without thinking about my blueeyed neighbor. My crush was reaching epic proportions, and I

was pretty sure there was only one cure.

Sex with Jonah.

I tossed my cel with force onto my desk and

growled. A disgruntled customer was something I could do without today. I’d barely slept last night, and not because of anything interesting. Since the incident in the hal way, my thoughts had been consumed with Jonah. It was ridiculous. I had a job to do, but I couldn’t clear his image from my head. I had tried cal ing my mom, knowing she’d help me to forget. It turned out I interrupted her weekly book club. I promised it was nothing important and that I would cal her back later. I’d then sent a text to J.J., hoping she was working. If she was busy putting makeup on models then she couldn’t laugh at me for being so childish. I picked up my coffee and stared out of the

window. I needed a night out. I needed hot sex with a guy I’d never see again.

What I needed was a sexorcism.

It had worked when Nathan and I split up. I was certain it would work now. I giggled, I hadn’t even come close to kissing Jonah, and yet, I was comparing him to Nathan.

I sipped the hot brew wondering where I could

drag J.J. to tonight, and more importantly, what I could wear that would get me noticed. It had never been an issue before because my red hair was like a beacon. After a guy noticed that, al it took was some tight clothing and he was hooked; mine for the night. I wanted that tonight. I craved the release.

My fingers began moving across my keyboard,

clicking onto clothing websites to get some ideas. I was browsing tight black dresses when I realized I was humming.

Jonah was playing his guitar again.

My body went into overdrive, every sense focusing on where Jonah was in his apartment and what he was playing. I was no longer interested in the clothes or going out to cleanse my mind and ease my libido. At least not with a random guy, because it was too late for that. I was a goner, hooked on Jonah Quinn.

I cradled the mug in my hands, closing my eyes and letting his haunting music surround me. I was becoming addicted to the soothing sounds. I no longer turned on my iPod; I didn’t need to. Jonah continued to play his concerts for me, only he didn’t know it. The melody would encompass me and take me along on whatever journey Jonah chose. I was getting used to certain songs and would hum along with his strumming. I’d even hummed one to J.J., hoping it was a song I could download onto my iPod, but she just laughed. She’d insisted the song I’d relayed to her was from a cartoon, continuing to giggle until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I hung up on her, ending her hysterics.

I started browsing the web, but that was futile. I didn’t have any idea what I was looking for.

My interest in him had only gotten worse after he’d admitted he knew my name. He piqued my curiosity further. To make matters worse, he’d not been at the mailboxes for the last three mornings. I hated the disappointment I felt when I noticed his mailbox was already empty; he was avoiding me. I didn’t think I’d been that obvious, had I?

I stood, pushing my chair away with the back of my knees and padded across to the open window. Sitting at the window al owed me the chance to hear his music clearer as it floated down with the light breeze. I watched the people bustling around on the street below me but only paid attention to Jonah. A couple walked past, smiling as they stared into each other’s eyes. It was the first time in a long time that I felt a pang of jealousy. I hadn’t been in any sort of relationship for two years, and in truth, I wasn’t looking for one now, though I missed the closeness. My favorite times with Nathan had been in the

morning – that moment when I woke before he did. I’d watch him sleeping, stroked his blond curls from his brow and slowly kissed him awake. I smiled at the memory. We had managed twenty-one months together before we began to drift apart. I often wondered if we’d have had more longevity if we had just remained friends, instead of trying to be more. I supposed that was academic now. I had loved him, loved the time we’d spent as a couple, but I missed him as a friend.