Chapter 16 Riot
Riot
“Here. I want you to take this paper home. Memorize the chords. Practice making the hand positions with your eyes closed. That's your homework.”
She looks over the chords I've roughly scribbled down on paper, then slowly drags her eyes to the title etched at the very top.
Her brow rises to her hairline as she finds my gaze. “'Wonderful Tonight'?”
I nod. “Yep. At the level you're at, you should have zero trouble playing it.”
It’s been four whole weeks since Eloise and I have seen each other outside of the shop, since we had our weekend of magic.
We still text occasionally, but even that has become a rarity.
I’ve asked her several times to go out again, but she keeps telling me she’s busy.
There’s been no more pictures, no mention of our night together, and whenever I try to bring it up, she changes the subject.
She’s pulling away, and it makes me wonder if she’s begun to regret our time together—if she wishes we never crossed the line between student and teacher.
I’m too scared to ask, so I don’t.
Eloise looks down at the sheet music again, nodding as if verifying what I told her to be true. “Isn't this the song where the guy is complaining about his girlfriend taking forever to get ready?”
I nearly spit coffee all over her pretty white blouse. Forcing the sip down, I give her an incredulous stare. “I mean… technically, yes? But most people know it as one of the greatest love songs ever written.”
“Hmm.”
“You don't sound convinced.” I lean back and take another sip of my coffee.
“I just don't understand how being annoyed with someone equates to ‘the greatest love song of all time.’” Eloise's nose crinkles as she makes her little air quotes, and my heart beats loud enough for her to hear across the room.
“A good part of love is being annoyed with the other person. Pissing them off, getting under their skin—but still cherishing them enough to know that even with all those little things, they're still the most beautiful thing in the world.”
“Huh. I guess I wouldn't know anything about that.”
“Hmm.” I rest my chin on my fist while I stare at her. You’re so fucking beautiful, Eloise, and you don’t even know it.
She squirms, her face set in determination. “What?”
“What?” I tilt my head. “Something wrong?”
“No… just wondering why you’re looking at me like that.”
“Just admiring you. That’s all.”
She blushes, and I lean away. I glance at the clock, noting it’s nearing the time Eloise typically rushes home.
A wave of disappointment pours over me as I place my guitar back in its case, mentally preparing to say our goodbyes.
Instead, I’m surprised to find Eloise sitting frozen with her guitar still in her lap, her brows pinched in a frown. “Is our lesson over already?”
“I'm surprised, Eloise. You're usually ready to rush out of here.”
Apparently, this is the wrong thing to say. “You're right. I'll leave now.” She starts shoving papers into her backpack, and I place my hand on her arm.
She freezes, her breath catching as she looks at me through her lashes. “Riot…”
“I don't want you to leave, Eloise. Ever. I was just surprised. That's it.”
“Oh.” She lowers her gaze but doesn’t pull out of my grip. “Guess I kind of overreacted there. I thought…” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought.”
I place my finger under her chin, pulling her up to meet my gaze.
“It matters, Eloise. And if it doesn’t to you, it sure as shit matters to me.
” I lean in close enough to see the shards of gray breaking up the clear blue of her iris, but in the next heartbeat, her pupils expand, consuming the beautiful hues of color.
My hand reaches up, cupping the side of her jaw as my thumb works loving circles along the pad of her cheek. “Tell me what happened, Eloise. I want to understand where your mind went.”
Again, she tries to lower her gaze, but I won’t allow it.
She takes her lip between her teeth, nervous energy pulsing from her shoulders like the heat from her skin.
“I… when you started packing up early, I assumed you were sick of me. That I was a burden you wanted out of your hair as soon as possible because that’s the way it is with everyone else.
” She lets out a small puff of air, her lips tipping in an unhappy smile.
“You see? It doesn’t matter. It’s silly. ”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I murmur, continuing to draw circles on her lovely, soft skin.
“We don’t get to choose the scars we carry.
And sometimes, we react to situations differently than others because of them.
But that doesn’t make it silly. It just means you survived your wounds, and you’re doing the best you can to live in spite of them. ”
And then, I do something I never, ever do. I bring up Rush.
“You see this?” I reach down, tapping the golden guitar pick still clutched in her fingers. “You remember how weird I acted when you found it?”
She nods gently, gazing down at the pick in question. “I guess so…”
I take a deep breath. “Well, that’s because it belonged to my brother.
He lost it nearly two decades ago, and I hadn’t thought of it since then.
But the moment I saw it—the second I saw it in your hands—I shut down.
For a single moment, it was like I had lost him all over again.
” I wrap her hand in mine, keeping the other on her cheek as I stare deep into her eyes.
“I’m telling you this because I understand how the past can shape us, and how it leaves wounds too deep to heal.
What I’m really saying… what I’m trying to get across is that we all have our moments when we go back to that dark place.
And it doesn’t make you any less, Eloise.
It doesn’t make you weak, or silly, or any of the other adjectives you’re probably making up right now. ”
I lean in close enough that her minty breath fans over my face, and I can count the near-invisible freckles spreading over the bridge of her nose. Electricity flows through my veins, seeping from my pores and crackling in the space between us.
“I think you’re wonderful, Eloise,” I whisper.
“I think you’re stunning and brilliant and fucking hilarious.
You’re soft, and you’re sweet, witty, and sharp.
You’re my lifeline and treacherous for my health.
You bring me peace and drive me fucking wild.
And you do all that by being beautifully, fantastically you, Eloise.
” I press my forehead to her, closing my eyes as I breathe her in. “You’re everything. You’re—”
I never get to finish.
My eyes spring open, shock turning to utter bliss the moment I realize Eloise’s lips are on mine. Eloise is... Eloise is kissing me.
It takes me a second to respond, but when I do, when I move my mouth against hers the way I’ve been dreaming of for weeks, the damn sky opens up. A bolt of lightning reaches down, striking the center of my heart and filling my body with humming, burning heat.
My hand slides around the back of Eloise’s gentle neck, the other snaking around her waist and hauling her closer to me. Her guitar clatters to the floor in a cacophony, but I hardly notice it, too caught up in the sensation of her mouth on mine.
I slide my tongue over her lower lip, and she opens up beautifully for me. I take the kiss deeper, a groan building in the base of my throat as my cock hardens painfully.
My hand tightens around her neck as a wave of desire threatens to make me lose control.
Eloise moans at the sensation, a sound so delicious it makes every muscle in my body shudder.
I ache to be inside her, to hear the sounds she makes when I push my cock inside her tight little pussy, to feel her come undone around me.
But I have to be patient.
With what seems to be impossible effort, I pull back from Eloise, panting heavily. “I can’t believe I finally found you,” I whisper, resting my forehead against hers. “I can’t believe you’re really real.”
Eloise blinks slowly, her back tensing ever so slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been so tired… so tired of chasing all these dreams. Tired of trying, of looking for the light when things are so fucking bleak all the time.
But when I’m with you… God, when I’m with you, Eloise, it doesn’t even feel like trying.
It feels like I’m weightless, like I’m soaring, like I’ve died and come back to life in stunning and glorious color.
The words can’t write themselves fast enough, and I…
I started singing again, Eloise. Just yesterday, I caught myself doing it while I was cleaning!
Do you understand how remarkable that is?
Do you realize how long it’s been since I’ve done either of those things? ”
Despite my delirious declaration of love, Eloise sits there frozen. With every passing moment, her icy mask falls back into place, cutting her off from me. Shutting me out.
“I’m glad you finally cleaned your place, but I think it’s silly to give me credit for you accomplishing your essential chores.”
I take a step toward her, and she matches it back, the moment gone. I nearly scream in frustration. I know she’s not prepared for this, that I’m probably coming on too hot, too quickly. But I just can’t stop anymore. I have to break through that fucking mask.
“What about the singing?” I demand. “You don’t have anything to say about that? You don’t feel happy? You don’t feel anything?”
“Why would I feel something other than confusion for this strange declaration?” She tilts her head, her doe eyes going impossibly wider. “Riot… you’ve been going through a lot and feeling a lot of feelings, and I think… maybe you’re projecting some of them onto me.”
“What—” I shake my head, confused by this reaction.
I thought… I thought we were on the same page.
After the night we spent together last month, I was sure that she felt it too…
“Eloise, I don’t think you understand. I’m trying to tell you that…
that you’ve saved me.” I reach out, wrapping my hand lightly around her delicate wrist as I look deep into her sky-blue eyes, begging her to see the sincerity in mine and accept me. “I love you—”
I stop, my eyes wide and my heart frozen. I did not just say that.
“You don’t even know me!” Her face pinches in distress as she rips away from my grip. “You don’t… You have no idea what you’re saying!” She steps back, stumbling in her haste to put distance between us. “You don’t even know my last name…”
I shake my head, determined to salvage this.
“I know more about you than you think. I know your last name is Marquette. I know you play piano, and you do it beautifully. I know your eyes are sad, and I want to take away your pain. I know since the first day we spoke, there was no one for me but you. I want to know every little thing about you,” I whisper, reaching for her.
“Anything I find out will only make my feelings for you grow, Eloise. My little muse…”
I move to embrace her, but she shakes her head wildly, the emotion in her eyes causing me to freeze. “Don’t! Please… please just stay there… I need to breathe for a second…”
“Eloise…” I beg, the sickening pit in my stomach telling me I’m losing her. “Eloise—”
“Don’t do that,” she whispers, hanging her head.
“Don’t say my name like that. Like you really do love m—” She takes a deep breath, sucking all her emotion back inside, and when she looks at me again, her gaze is cold.
“We can’t do this, Riot. I can’t do this.
You and me… It can’t happen. You don’t even…
If you knew the truth about me, you wouldn't be saying these things. If you knew, you’d run so far I’d never find you again. ”
“That’s not true.” I shake my head, desperate to reach her. “That’s not true at all, Eloise.”
Tears well in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “I’m sorry, Riot. This was a mistake,” she says, that horrid emotionless mask taking over her lovely features as she starts collecting her things. “I really should be going. It’s getting late…”
“Eloise—”
“Please don't ask me to stay,” she whispers, refusing to meet my gaze no matter how hard I try. “If you do, I might just—” She shakes her head, her eyes going dead. “It won't do any good.”
I’m losing her. I’ve lost her. She’s spooked, and I’ll never be able to draw her in ever again.
God, what have I done?
“Please talk to me, Eloise,” I whisper, realizing with a jolt that my hand is still resting on her arm. “Just… pretend I never said it if it helps you. Do anything you need to. Just talk to me, please.” My eyes meet hers with desperation. “You can trust me.”
Evidently, this is the wrong thing to say. Her eyes flare, and she reels back as if I just struck her. “I need to go.”
“Eloise!” I call, reaching out to her.
But it's no good. She's already gone. The only thing left of her is a small pink notebook she left behind in her haste to get away from me. It’s the same color as her hair.
I fall back into my chair, lowering my head into my hands.
What the fuck did I just do?