A.N - The last thing I need to do is post more stories, but this one has been on my computer for a while. This one chapter at least. I just thought I'd post it and see the reactions. I'm gonna try and update both my twilight story and Dreaming of a Fairytale tonight as well. I wanna get my WIP's finished, and move on to more mature stories. :P

My last hurrah like. I hope you guys like this.



I could not believe this.

This was Gina's and my first night out after sleeping off the fatigue that came with hauling ourselves three thousand miles across the country and someone was already chatting me up.

Someone unbelievably good-looking, what with the tall, tanned and gorgeous thing he had going, and his highlighted hair and his crystal-blue eyes.

Okay, I knew I was looking hot. I had this whole sultry, rock goddess thing going for me tonight. But it had taken me a few hours – and many, many attempts – to perfect. However good I thought I looked, though, it was nothing compared to this guy. Whose name he had told me.

Shoot. What was his name?

"Can I buy you another?" His voice – perfect, like the rest of him – interrupted my thoughts as he smoothly slid next to where I stood at the bar and gesturing towards the empty glass in front of me.

"Actually," I smiled at him. "You can buy two, if you like."

There was no mistaking my meaning and, judging by the slow grin that overtook his face, I think he got it.

"Alright then." He caught the attention of the bartender and pointed at my glass before raising two fingers. The bartender nodded and moved away. "So," his mouth was millimetres from my ear as he struck up a conversation, his voice low and barely audible over the thrum of music. I leaned closer to him. "What's your name?"



Damn music.

"Suze," I tried again, a bit louder.


Turning around, I opened my mouth to say my name for the third time only to have whatshisname capture my lips in a firm and abrupt kiss.

Um, wow. This guy is good.

I pulled away from him, stunned and breathless, and looked into his twinkling eyes. His mouth was stretched into an easy grin as he leaned in and pressed his lips lingeringly to mine again.

"Suze," he breathed. "That's a pretty name. Suits you."

The bartender appeared with the drinks, saving me from having to reply. Grinning to myself, I watched as Mystery Man dropped a ten-dollar bill on the bar before turning back to me, catching my smile and letting one of his own take over his face.

"Thanks." I pressed in closer to him and kissed his cheek as I picked up both glasses. "It was my round."

Shrugging at his dumbfounded look – and restraining the urge to giggle – I walked away, back towards Gina who was smirking one of her infamous smirks, which told me that she'd seen the whole thing.

"Girl," she drawled, stretching the syllable as long as she dared, "that was amazing. He's totally hot on you. What was his name?"

I shook my head as I took a sip of my drink.

"You made quite the impression on him, Susie, baby," Gina continued. "He's heading over here."

My eyes widened as I focused on swallowing my drink and checking myself in one of the many, mirrored surfaces for any appearance mishaps. I was good. My make-up was in pretty much the same condition as when we'd left the apartment, but with my eyeliner a tad more smudged and a healthy pink flush to my cheeks, courtesy of the alcohol I'd consumed, I'm thinking.

When he reached the table, I realised he was holding something, something small, silver and metallic. My clutch.

Darn my forgetfulness.

"You left this," he told me, pressing it back into my possession as he took my other hand and gentle coaxed my fingers open, laying part of a ripped napkin on the outstretched palm before he curled my fingers around it protectively. "I'll call you."

His smirk looked positively delicious as he walked away from, turning his head and heading back towards the group he was with.

"He'll call you?" Gina enquired. "Susannah Simon, you slut," her eyes twinkled with mirth, telling me not to take the insult seriously, "did you give out your number to a stranger at a bar?"

"No," I muttered. "I just took the drinks and left."

Curious, I looked at the napkin and the message he'd scrawled in neat, block capitals.



"He looked at my cell phone!" I cried, outraged. "Bastard."

But at least I remembered his name now. Paul. Slater, I think.

Gina, looking at the note for herself, whistled. "Yep," she said. "Totally hot on you."

The next morning I woke up groggy, messy and craving coffee.

Pulling myself out of my comfy bed, I shrugged on shorts and a plain tee before sorting out my make-up and stumbling to Gina's room.

"Gina," I knocked loudly on her door as I stretched and yawned. "Gee, I'm going on a coffee run, you want?"

I heard her mumble her reply into her pillow and rolled my eyes. I don't even know why I bothered asking; I knew her Starbucks order like the back of my hand.

Jabbing in my headphones, I walked lazily along the sidewalk, which was boiling in the Los Angeles sun. By the time I finally spotted a Starbucks, I all but ran towards it, seeking out shade.

Music still blaring in my ears, I reached the doorway and managed to – literally – collide with another, man-shaped person. Having gained his composure quickly, his rough, calloused hands came up to wrap around my upper arms and steady me.

"I'm so sorry," I began, pulling the headphones out and keeping my shame-filled gaze directed at the floor. "I just –"

"Whoa," he cut me off, totally calm, in a voice that sounded like liquid hot. "It's ok, if I was carrying any coffee, then we'd have problems. As it was, I just dropped my book."

His hands fell away from my arms and the skin he'd touched tingled in his absence. Ducking down, he picked up the book, and I managed to catch a glimpse of dark curly hair, the side of a deeply tanned face and a scarred eyebrow.

I smiled as I saw the title of the book. "You're reading Charles Dickens?"

"I read anything and everything I can get my hands on," he corrected, straightening up. Slowly, he stretched out two fingers and placed them under my chin before gently raising my face to be level with his. My eyes were soon lost in his mesmerizing, russet-coloured ones. "But you are a music lover, apparently. You were in your own world there. What were you listening to?"

Capturing my hanging headphone, he placed it in his own ear, listening in silence for a few seconds before a wide smile spread over his face. "Ghost Replica?"

"Hey," I defended, snatching back my headphone. "They're not that bad. My stepbrother is into all these crazy, obscure bands. He bought me both their albums. The first is better. I saw them in New York once."

He raised his eyebrow, the one with the scar darting through it and I just about melted. "Well," he beamed. "Always nice to get some feedback. I'm Jesse."

I froze. "Jesse?" I squeaked. "As in lead singer of Ghost Replica, Jesse?"

"The very one."

"And I just called you crazy and obscure."


"Oh, my god."

He laughed. "Hey, it's alright." When I completely refused to look at him again, he sighed and rummaged around in his bag, pulling out something that glinted silver. Alarmed, I jerked my head upwards. Jesse just chuckled again. "Tell you what, if I tell you that I forgive you for calling my band crazy and obscure," I groaned in embarrassment, "will you give me a call?"

"Huh?" I watched, dumbfounded, as he scrawled down a cell phone number on the palm of my hand with a silver pen.

When he was finished, he looked up, his eyes clashing with mine. "If you spent your money on that gig ticket, I figure I owe you a night out."

Maybe it was better not to mention that, at the time, Gina had been dating the bouncer to the club and we'd gotten in for free.

Still silent, I nodded.

"So," he persisted. "You'll call me?"

"Sure," I shook my head clear of fuzzy thoughts and glanced down at the numbers written on my palm, biting my bottom lip as I looked up at him again. He still held my hand, his rough fingers thrilling me with the jolts of electricity resonating from his fingertips. "I mean, if you want."

His eyes zeroed in on my mouth. "Yeah, I want." He smiled again, his big, wide, white smile, and raised my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles briefly with the softest skim of his lips against my skin. "Until later then."

And he walked away, messenger back bouncing along behind him with each step he took. Only as he was about to turn the corner did he turn back, see me looking, and wave.

Flustered, I hurried into the coffee shop and fought against the embarrassment at having been caught staring at someone.

I quickly place my order and held my hand out for my change, seeing the black ink from Jesse's pen glisten under the shop lights. Only then did I actually realise what had happened. I have Jesse de Silva's number.

Jesse de Silva!

Super sexy, rock star Jesse de Silva.

Los Angeles, I love you.