Jordan wore a collared button down white shirt with the sleeves ripped off. Very Patrick Dempsey in Can't Buy Me Love. Retro and hot. His face glistened with sweat as he beat the hell out of his drums. His transformation into rock god was fascinating. It was so complete and total that it was hard to imagine him as anything else. It was like he lived and breathed the music he played.
I allowed myself to get lost in their performance. I loved seeing Jordan like this. His passion was evident, even from this distance. I wanted to push myself forward and dance with the rest of the people here. But I didn't want to deal with Miss Too Tight Dress and her cronies, so I stayed where I was. I couldn't stop myself from watching her watch him. She obviously knew the set well, singing along to most of the songs. She looked the part of the rock star's girlfriend, whereas I looked like a child playing dress up in my stupid leather skirt and trying too hard boots.
About thirty minutes into their set, Cole addressed the crowd. “Now we'd like to take it down a notch. This next song was written by the resident sex god himself, Jordan Levitt!” The crowd roared and my stomach clenched tightly. I had almost allowed myself to forget the bits of the conversation I had overheard in the bathroom. The part about the song. The one Jordan had written for Olivia. Fuck.
Milla and Olivia were going crazy, dancing their asses off as Jordan started to beat out a sensual rhythm. The muscles in his forearms stood out as he smashed his drumsticks down onto the kit. The song started slowly, like the slide of a lover's hand down your body. It was tantalizing and seductive. Music meant to turn you on and get you wet. And Jordan had written it for Olivia. This would not make me feel the warm fuzzies. Of that I was sure.
Riley and Damien had gotten to their feet, their arms curled around each other as they swayed together. Couples were pairing off, touching and grinding. Everyone responded to the primal beat Jordan laid out. If just the music made me feel like this, I knew the lyrics would destroy me. Maybe I was being overly sensitive but something instinctual took over when I realized Jordan had written a song for Olivia. Even though it happened way before I came into the picture. I felt an irrational sense of betrayal. And if I took the time to examine it closely I would realize it was because I loved him, sort of desperately, and I wanted all of his songs to be about me. And only me.
I was nuts. That's all there was to it. I had to get my head together or I would lose my shit right there.
I watched in transfixed horror as Cole wrapped his hand around the mic and bent it low, looking into the crowd as he began to sing.
You lie your head on my arm
your heart in my hand.
Lost in your eyes,
I have become a man.
Your body sings a song
Only I can hear,
Etched in the dark of my soul
Losing you is what I fear.
I've searched so long
for the promise of you.
Enthralled by your silence
I've got everything to lose.
Lost in your eyes
I have become a man.
Lost in you.
Lost in you.
Lost in you.
You moan my name
I play your game
I struggle to breathe
You're all that I need
You've become my forever
All I know is you
Enthralled by your silence
I've got everything to lose.
Forget the past
Hold on to me now
All we need is this
All we need...
Don't ask me to leave
I don't know that I can.
Lost in your eyes,
I've become a man.
Lost in you.
Lost in you.
Lost in you.
Cole's voice trailed off into a whisper as he sang intimately to the frantic crowd below him. The song was beautiful. No, beautiful didn't even begin to describe it. The love that had gone into writing those lyrics made me feel raw and vulnerable. Because it came back to the fact that Jordan had written them about someone else. Someone who had shared his life for three f**king years. How the hell could I ever compete with that sort of devotion?
I watched Olivia sway to the music as though it were calling to her personally. I could see that she was singing along with Cole and I felt tears sting my eyes. I knew she watched Jordan as he played his drums. Playing the song he had written just for her.
Oh god. I was done. So 100% done! I was a freaking idiot! What Jordan and I had was nothing compared to that. The fight I had felt earlier when confronting Olivia fizzled out in a sad sort of whimper. Did we really have anything worth fighting for? Listening to that damn song, doubt spread like a cancer through my mind. So what was I going to do? Run and hide. Because that's what I did best, and when you were good at something, why change it?
I got to my feet. “I'm going home,” I announced as the band began to play a rowdy version of the Beatles' I Wanna Hold Your Hand. Riley looked at me in surprise.
“What? But they're only half way through the set. What about Garrett's party?” I looked up at the stage. At Jordan who was completely immersed in his music. Nope. I couldn't do this. I didn't belong here. I didn't belong with him. Who was I kidding?
“I just want to go,” I said shortly. I was angry and hurt. However nonsensical my feelings were, they had a death grip on my heart and wouldn't let go. This whole thing with Jordan had been a big heap of angst from the very beginning and right then I was so over it all. Damien looked from Riley to me in confusion.
“Is everything alright?” he asked with concern. I gave him, what I hoped was a convincing smile.
“Yep, everything is just peachy. But I'm heading out. You guys can go to Garrett's without me, it'll be cool.” Riley got to her feet.
“What about Jordan? What do I tell him?”
My eyes trailed over to Olivia who was thoroughly enjoying herself. Riley followed my gaze and a knowing look crossed her face.
“Mays...” she started but I held my hand up to stop her.
“I think he'll be busy. So, don't bother to say anything. Later.” And with that, I turned on my heel and left the bar. Outside, I pulled out my phone and called a cab. I was a big, fat wimp. I knew that. But I didn't care. Because my new boyfriend had just played a song he wrote for his ex-girlfriend and I felt like total crap. I knew I was probably being very immature about the whole thing. But again, I didn't f**king care.
So I went home, put on my comfiest pjs and went to bed. I put my phone on my dresser. You know, just in case Riley needed something. Oh, who was I kidding. I wanted to see if Jordan would call. I was beyond ridiculous.
My phone stayed conspicuously silent.
Chapter Eighteen
I woke up the next morning entirely too early for a Sunday, feeling very unrested. I had tossed and turned most of the night, my ears pricking up at the slightest sound. I couldn't help but obsessively wonder whether Jordan would call or come by. He had to recognize my very purposeful burn by not waiting for him after the show for what it was.