Page 40 of Unwritten Rules
“Classic Dad,” she murmurs, smiling. “He always was the brightest in the room.”
The song ends, the leading notes making way to “Iris” by The Goo Goo Dolls. Tatum gasps, and reaches for the volume knob. Twisting it to the right, the speakers fight to keep the lyrics steady and not be drowned out by the woman beside me.
I fight back a smile as I listen to Tatum belt out the lyrics, each word cutting deeper than I expected. My hand tightens on the steering wheel.
“I take it you like this song?” I yell over the music, glancing over at her.
Tatum smiles and turns the nob to an acceptable volume. “Like it? It’s my favourite songever. I heard it live last year and I swore I melted into a puddle right there on the floor of the arena.”
“Why do you like it so much?”
“Everything about it is raw and beautiful. The lyrics, the music, his voice…” Tatum blows out a soft breath and smiles. “I’m sure everyone has connected with it in one way or another.”
I contemplate whether I have or not, and when I come up empty handed, I shrug. “Not me.”
“Seriously?” Tatum deadpans. “Only a robot would say that.”
“I guess I’m a robot then.”
“Maybe you’re just not thinking hard enough about it,” she offers. “And once you do, try and tell me you don’t feel every lyric in your bones or the meaning weighing heavily on your heart.”
I want to tell her that it’s just a song, but the look in her eye, something resembling warmth and acceptance stops me from spewing the words. Instead, I offer a half-hearted shrug. “When that day comes, you’ll be the first to know.”
Silence stretches between us as the song fades out, replaced with MGK’s “I Think I’m OKAY”. My fingers drum on the steering wheel, head nodding with the beat of the drums. Headlights from oncoming cars illuminate the space, casting bright shadows over Tatum’s features. The further we drive into Mosman, the more my heart sinks. I like having Tatum in my space, which isn’t something I can say about most people, especially women. But something about Tatum has me wanting to explore her deeper, to see what she’s really like and if she is someone I can trust.
“How’d you enjoy Townsville over the weekend?” The question reveals itself easily, filling the small space.
Tatum glances over at me, searching my side profile. “It was fun. I vaguely recall your buddy Khai being dared to run naked down the hallway of the hotel by Axel, and let’s just say Dad was pissed.”
I snort a laugh, the image far too clear in my head despite my not being there. “One thing you’ll learn about Khai is the man has no shame. Zero. You ask him to do the most embarrassing shit on the planet, and he’ll do it without hesitation and a goofy grin.”
Tatum laughs, the sound soft and sweet. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Because it shouldn’t. He’s a nutcase.”
“A nutcase whose ass I saw flying past my room at one in the morning.”
I grimace, knuckles bleaching around the steering wheel. I should smack him upside the head for putting her in that position. She shouldn’t have to be subjected to that kind of thing from the guys, but at the end of the day, I wasn’t there to stop it. I was sat in the apartment fighting the urge to go down to the bottle shop to grab myself the biggest bottle of bourbon I could get my hands on, just to give myselfsomethingto do. Instead, I had jumped on Khai’s computer, hoping he wouldn’t notice I touched his things.
“I apologise on his behalf,” I settle on saying. “He’s an idiot, but I guess he’s my idiot.”
“How well do you know each other?”
I exhale a long breath. “Where do I start? We’ve been friends since we could walk. Our parents were neighbours before we moved a few streets away. After high school, when we joined the reserve team and were in uni getting our degrees in sports science, we couldn’t bear being apart, so we found an apartment and moved in.”
Tatum hums. “So, he’s your best friend?”
“The one and only.”
“That’s sweet.” After a moment, she says, “You’re chattier this time around.”
I raise a brow at her. “How so?”
“Well, the night we met, you weren’t too keen on answering my questions, but now you seem a little more open to sharing details of yourself with me.”
I exhale sharply and run a hand through my hair. It’s unnerving how well she can read me, and pick up on subtle cues I don’t realise I do. “I was a dick that night, I’ll admit. I was tired and needed to blow off some steam.”
“I could tell,” Tatum comments, voice gentle. “Do you need to do that a lot? Blow off steam?”
