“The traveling orchestra? The one everyone is obsessed with?”
I shrug. “I don’t really listen to that classical stuff…”
He groans, throwing his head back. “You don’thaveto, man. People go to watchher.Eloise fucking Marquette. The way she plays piano… her passion… It's like she’s making love to the thing. I know she didn’t look like much, but trust me… they stuff her in a tight little dress and six-inch heels, put her up at that piano bench and…” He whistles. “It’s just like porn. Like really good, classy porn.”
“How… intimate.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.” He elbows me like I’m in on some sick joke with him. “I’ve been three times, and I have tickets to Saturday’s show. The ladies love the music, and watching Eloise really puts me in the mood.” He wiggles his brows, and I have to resist the urge to vomit all over his suedeshoes. “God, what are the odds she walked intomystore? That the piano legend wants fucking guitar lessons, of all things? I can’t believe it.”
“You’re a lucky man,” I grumble, storming away from him in the hopes he’ll drop the conversation. I’m not sure why, but the way he talks about this random woman sends a murderous chill down my spine. Try as I might, I can’t shake it, so the next best thing is to put some distance between me and the throat I’m desperate to wrap my hands around. “I’ll talk to you later.”
A burst of autumn air smacks into me as I step outside, causing goose bumps to rise along the exposed skin of my forearms. It’s nowhere near cold enough to need a jacket, but the salty breeze blowing in off the coast pierces through the humidity and wicks away the sheen of sweat coating my skin, leaving me overly hot and chilled at the same time.
The back door of the shop clicks shut as I tap out a cigarette. I place the stick between my lips, and the hiss of my lighter is the only sound to break the silence. I tilt my head back as noxious smoke billows through the air, looking directly into the wide-open sky. Clear and cloudless, and the exact color of her eyes.
Beautiful.
For some reason, I can’t take my mind off that stunning, wide-eyed girl.
Eloise Marquette.
I’m not sure what it is about her, but something is drawing me to her, desperate to have a taste. To get inside her mind and see what makes it tick. To watch her play and make love to the keys just like Mac described.
I shake myself, attempting to push Eloise out of my head. She doesn’t even know who I am. She doesn’t have a reason to care about me. Doesn’t even have a reason to dislike me.
Maybe it’s a good thing—perhaps it’s good I’ll never truly know her. Maybe it’s good I’ll never have the chance to be broken by her.
Still, the ghost of her smile haunts me for the rest of the day.
3
Riot
Next week…
Today is the day. Today, I get to see Eloise again.
There’s been a strange knot in the center of my chest all day, growing larger with each passing hour. I stumble through my morning lessons and have a pack of cigarettes instead of lunch—the thought of eating makes me sick. I tell myself my nerves have nothing to do with her, but by the time four o’clock rolls around, I can hardly keep up the lie.
When she strolls into the shop, it shatters around me, and I’m left struggling to breathe in the presence of the woman who’s consumed my every thought for the past ten days.
“Hey,” I whisper. The vanilla scent is not as strong this time, mixed with notes of banana and something chemical—sunscreen, I realize on the next inhale. “Excited for your first lesson?”
Eloise’s eyes widen ever so slightly as she juts her chin up, meeting my gaze full-on. “I thought I was working with Mac…”
My heart clenches painfully, though I have no idea why. “You are. Just making small talk.” I turn from her, not understanding the hot wave of anger that washes over me. “Mac! Eloise is here!”
Mac rounds the corner, eyes as bright as his neon mohawk. “Hey, doll! I was getting worried you weren’t coming.”
Eloise twists her hands together anxiously. “Sorry. I, uh, got caught up with some things.”
“Not a problem.” Mac jogs behind the counter and pulls her guitar from its mount on the back wall. “Kept her safe for ya,” Mac says, proudly handing it over to Eloise. “Just like I promised.”
“Thanks.” Eloise smiles, though it’s not a genuine one like last time. “I really do appreciate it.”
She follows Mac to the practice room at the back of the store, and I just stare after them like a lovesick puppy, too consumed to look away.
Get your shit together, Riot.
