Breathless (26 page)

“Doesn’t he slow you down with his disability?”

Leo’s entire face tightened. “He’s considered high functioning and smarter than you think. He’s a person, just like you or me. He’s not an idiot,” he retorted.

“Of course not, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just not every day you see an autistic guy in a band. You obviously care about him, and I can see why. He’s like a child,” I said quickly, wanting him to know that I wasn’t judging Teddy. “I’m just surprised that you chose him for your band. I’m sure he’s worth all the extra work.”

“He is. Not everyone’s perfect, you know,” he said, giving me as assessing look, like maybe he knew something I didn’t. “And, I wanted Sebastian to be around people who don’t have everything handed to them.”

“I’m not perfect. People think I am, but I’m not,” I admitted, needing him to know that I wasn’t the rich, spoiled girl he’d called me last night. In my life, things are never as they appeared.

He studied me. “Maybe I wouldn’t like you so much if you were,” he said, staring at my mouth. I licked my lips and stared right back, thrilled by the heat I thought I could see there. Did he feel the same connection I did, like we’d known each other our entire lives?

I nodded. “So, about Teddy. Is that what you meant by paying you back?” I said.

“Yeah, I remembered from the open house brochure that you were a pianist. I want you to work with him, help him learn some new music for the band.”

Me? Helping someone when I could barely survive myself? I shook my head. “I don’t know. I have a lot going on with school and debate. Wouldn’t it be easier just to let me write you a check for the damage? You’d never have to see me again,” I added.

“That won’t work for me. Teddy needs extra help. And I know you’re busy, but music heals. It helped me deal with my parents’ murder,” he said. “Maybe you need this. Maybe it’s better than therapy.”

I took a step back. “You think I need
therapy
?” I asked, not liking where this was going.

He scrubbed his jaw. “There’s something going on with you. I see the pain you carry. In your eyes, on your face, and in your actions. And I get it. I do. I don’t know what happened to you, but I think you’re dealing with some shitty things in your life.”

He would never know how shitty.

“Is that a polite way of saying I’m fucked up?”

He shot me an amused smirk. “Don’t be a bitch, Nora.”

I exhaled.

“I want to help you,” he said. “I see strength in you, too, Nora. I saw it when you talked about Paris last night. I heard the hope in your voice. Whatever is eating at you, you have to fight back and not let it win.”

I looked away from him because he had no clue. I wasn’t strong; I was a loser. A girl who’d stopped fighting back a long time ago. A girl who’d given in.

I had to change the topic. “So when’s the first gig?”

“It’s the gym’s grand opening party. We’re opening in six weeks, but I pushed the party out until Halloween,” he said. “Just watch today, but I’d like you to start practicing with us. I know school starts this week, so maybe after that settles down, we can put some real work in.”

“If you help him, I’ll consider us even on the Escalade,” he said, tucking his hands in his designer jeans and leaning back against the wall nonchalantly. “Will you do it?”

“And if I don’t?”

His lips tipped up in a sly grin. “Then I’ll call your parents. Somehow, I get the feeling that’s the last thing you want right now.” He shrugged. “But it won’t come to that. You ruined my car, and you know it,” he said, his steely eyes searching mine.

I glanced away from him and stared out the window over his shoulder, catching sight of the yellow-splattered Escalade. I owed him. Big time. And I deserved whatever payment he’d decided on. Truthfully, I didn’t have the money to pay him for the damages. I’d have to ask Aunt Portia, and I didn’t want to do that.

I tried to picture it. Me. Being part of a rock band and helping someone who wasn’t part of my social circle, and then toss in spending time with this hot guy I wanted, but who didn’t want me.

“I’m in.”

“Good,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, like he didn’t know what to say next. Then, as if he’d made a decision, he pulled me out into the quiet hallway. Once we were alone, he said, “Now, about last night—” he stopped, appearing stuck on what to say.

“Yeah?”

He took two steps away from me and sighed heavily, like he needed some space between us, like what he was going to say was difficult. He ran his hand through his hair furiously, pulling on the ends a little. “Nora, look, I think you’re a pretty girl, but there won’t be anything between us.”

My face flushed because I had acted inappropriately last night. Like a slut, really. Yet I didn’t regret it. And then there was the bad list. I wanted him for my meaningless sex. Still.

“Because you think I’m too young.”

“Yes, dammit,” he said gruffly. “I don’t have time for any adolescent girl crushes.” He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry if I come across as a prick here, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. I don’t do serious relationships
ever
, and you deserve something good, not just a quick fuck.”

I stared at his full lips, not holding back. “I like it when you say ‘fuck.’”

His face flushed. “You’re not listening. There will not be anything between us. Yeah, we slept in the same bed last night, but that . . . that was me being comforting,” he said.

Disappointment hit me, remembering how good it had felt to just talk and lie next to him. I wanted more of that. With him.

“You held my hand for four hours to be comforting?” I asked, arching my brows.

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

I swallowed down the bitter pill of rejection and walked back into the music room where I sat down on the couch. So what if he didn’t want me. I had other options. Other guys.

Leo followed me but sat as far from me as possible. You’d think he’d not sit here at all since he wanted us to keep our distance.

Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised by Leo’s actions. It was the story of my life. Even Drew had done the same. One fateful night I’d given him my body, only to have him throw it back in my face when he got back with his girlfriend, Lori. He’d told me he wanted me forever, and I believed him, but he’d lied. I’d thought Drew and I were
perfect
together. Huh. I should have known better.

I looked around the room to make sure no one could hear us. I didn’t know why I wanted to tell him about my past, but I did. I said, “Truth is I’ve never had a healthy relationship with a guy.” My hand clenched, remembering the pain of being second choice. “This guy Drew . . . we had something good, but it got all screwed up. Before it all fell apart, I’d thought we’d end up together, you know, married someday.”

“They say timing is everything,” he snapped, like he was angry.

What the hell had I said to piss him off?

I ignored him and watched Teddy take pictures of Sebastian and Vixen as they worked on a song together, ironing out the chords. I thought about how Sebastian had accepted me when I told him about my word problem. Would Leo accept me, too? He seemed to appreciate Teddy for who he was.

“Sebastian’s a great person. You’ve done well with him,” I murmured. “Out of all this, I’m glad I met him.”

“Right,” Leo said, his eyes following mine to Sebastian. “Right,” he repeated, but he didn’t sound quite as sure. Something in the tightness of his face didn’t quite fit his nonchalant response.

Chapter 7

Nora

“Forget dressing slutty for a guy; just lick an ice cream cone in front of him.” –
Nora Blakely

“How about a unicorn or— Oh, look at this little cutie. A flying baby kitten!” Mila said, pointing to something in one of the tattoo shop’s image books. I looked over to see a tiny purple cat with bright yellow wings.

“A cat with wings? Seriously. That’s just freaky,” I said, shaking my head at her.

She harrumphed and turned the page. “Tattoos are forever, my ink-happy friend. Whatever you get, you’ll have it when you’re old and wrinkly and rolling around the nursing home in your wheel chair. I’d rather have a cute cat than one of those skull and cross bones you’ve been looking at.” She put her hands on her hips. “Plus, it’s going to
hurt
. It’s a sharp needle poking your skin like a thousand times.”

I chuckled, imagining her nose twitching in the universal sign for
danger
in bunny language.

“And, I saw this show on True TV about this guy that got a tattoo on his back and then died three days later from ink poisoning,” she added, tapping her fingers against the glass case we leaned against.

I snorted. “Stop watching that crap channel. It’s turning your brain to mush.”

Her mouth opened. “Stop? Are you insane?
Cheaters
is on True TV! I’m addicted to seeing people screw around on their significant others.”

“And you call me crazy.”

“Yeah, ’cause you’ve taken up drinking and breaking the law. And now you want a tattoo? You’re like this whole other person.” she said, waving her hands at me. “I’m afraid of what’s next.”

Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet
.

“Decided yet?” the tattoo girl asked us with a bright smile, setting her elbows on the counter to talk to us. With her bleached out spiked hair and the tatted roses and vines she had on her arms, she looked like an exotic bird. I decided tattoo girl was beautiful.

Then I saw the tiny bump underneath her shirt.

“Are you licensed to do nipple piercings?” I asked as Mila let out a loud gasp.

“Yep, do ’em every day. And we just got some new jewelry in. Take a look,” she said, pulling a case of shiny silver jewelry from underneath the counter. She picked up one that had two balls on the sides. “This here is the barbell and the most common for guys. And this here,” she said picking up a tiny ring, “is the silver ring, which the ladies seem to like.”

My eyes went to her tight blue T-shirt. “Which one do you have?”

She picked up a tiny pair of angel wings. “This,” she said pointing to the etched feathers on the wings. “They’re new and totally sweet,” she said mischievously, “and my boyfriend loves to play with it.”

“I want it.”

Mila grumbled and put her head in her hands.

The shop girl smiled. “Great. I’m Shayla, and I’m the resident female piercer around here.” She cocked her head and looked down at the image books. “But I thought you were looking for a tat today.”

“I want the piercing first and the tat later,” I said, thrilled at my decision to be in control of my own body. For too long, I’ve let others dictate everything: how to eat, how to dress, how to smile, how to walk, how to pretend.

“Okay, then, come on back here, and we’ll get set up.” She glanced over and smiled at Mila as she led me down the hall. “Does your friend want to come and watch?”

Mila’s face whitened, and I arched an eyebrow at her. I loved her, but she was a weenie.

She exhaled heavily but followed me, her hair bouncing. “Just because I’m curious, doesn’t mean I approve.”

Shayla had me take my shirt and bra off so she could study my breasts. I reclined on a chair while she touched my nipples with gloves on. “Your nipples are a good size. You’re not planning to breastfeed anytime soon, right?” she asked.

Mila laughed out loud. “God, can you imagine either of us with a baby?”

I shook my head dazedly, picturing
me
with a baby, breastfeeding. Then I imagined Mother’s face if I came up pregnant. It would be her proof that I really was a whore. I imagined all the nasty names she’d call me. I pictured myself in a televised beauty pageant, wearing an evening dress that stretched tight across my swollen belly. Knowing her, she’d turn it around and use it to her advantage by creating a news story out of it: “A Parkie Girl’s Story of Being a Whore.”

Shayla briefly explained about the healing process and gave me a packet about caring for the piercing. I signed a release form.

“Is it gonna hurt?” I asked, watching as she set out her instruments.

“God, Nora, you’re putting a needle in your boob. Of course, it’s gonna hurt,” Mila muttered.

Shayla nodded. “Yep, it will, but the worst is only about five seconds, then it eases up. You can do anything for five seconds, right?”

I scoffed, thinking about those measly five seconds. I’d endured much more pain, for a lot longer. So yeah, nipple piercing, not a big deal.

I nodded, and Shayla pulled out the forceps and needle. Mila gave a little squeak and scurried out the door. She wouldn’t be back.

Shayla cleaned my breast with a cold cotton ball, and I watched as she tugged and extended the nipple and then marked it half way between the top and base with a black marker. Once she had the mark on, she clamped it firmly with the cold forceps. I sat tense as she pushed the needle through, quickly following with the jewelry. A stinging pain hit me, and I clenched my teeth, trying to hold my breath until it passed. Instead, I thought about Leo, and how he said he saw the strength in me. She wiped the blood off my breast and gently attached the silver angel wings on either side. I let out a deep breath, thankful it was over.

“I’m not gonna set off any metal detectors, am I?” I said, staring down at my breast, liking how the florescent lights glinted off the silver wings.

She patted her chest. “I haven’t yet,” she said, grinning broadly, and I saw she had a cute little space between her two front teeth. An imperfection like that would drive Mother insane. “You’re a happy person,” I commented without thinking as I got up and carefully pulled my shirt on. I stuffed my bra in my purse.

She eyed me strangely. “Just because I have a lot of piercings and tats, doesn’t mean I’m a bad person.”

“No, no. I just meant, I watch people a lot, and ever since we came in, you’ve seemed peaceful and—” I stopped talking and looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry, my mouth has no filter today.”

She shuffled around, cleaning up the gauze and paper. “That’s okay,” she said a few moments later. “I
am
happy. My boyfriend and I just got engaged this week, so I guess, maybe you saw that.”