21. Twenty-One
Twenty-One
Lennon
W hen I was in the tenth grade, my dad took me golfing with him. To be fair, I had no interest in golfing. I think I was just looking for an excuse to spend time with him.
The best part of that trip was riding in the golf cart.
I remember telling my dad about my bed-and-breakfast idea. It was something I’d started researching on my own because I’d become obsessed with the idea of owning a cozy house and becoming an innkeeper.
That was the first time my dad’s attitude toward my future shifted.
Growing up, he was very much the be anything you want dad until I became a sophomore in high school. Lorelei was in med school, and I vividly remember my father telling me I should pursue something else. There was no sugarcoating it. He flat-out told me it would be frivolous and silly.
As the years passed, he insisted that I at least go to college to earn a degree–probably hopeful I’d change my mind about the whole thing.
It’s like he genuinely believed I woke up one day and decided to throw my life into the toilet.
I wonder what he’d think if he saw me now.
Looking down at the messages in my phone, I realize that I may have made a brash decision when I downloaded the dating app last night after leaving Noah’s office.
High on unwarranted hurt, I found myself swiping right on so many men I’d forgotten the original requirements by the end of it. ‘Hasn’t killed anyone’ seemed like a good standard, but even then, some of my matches were questionable.
I ended up having a conversation with a guy named Reece. He had tattoos and a guitar, and since things seem to be working out so well with Ellis and Griffin, I figured music could be my new passion.
Or I was just looking for someone to take the burning away in my chest.
Noah and I aren’t anything–so I’m not sure why seeing that woman walk into his office hurt so much–why what he said hurt so much.
He didn’t technically lie to her.
Still, after a week of discussing nearly everything about myself, I couldn’t help but question his reaction in that office. He hadn’t even introduced me as a friend–which we had clearly stated we were. Mutual friends . The words taunt me as I run my hands through the gentle waves in my hair.
My dad constantly reminded me that the things I was doing weren’t as honorable or noble–near worthless. What would he say knowing I not only failed in choosing a successful career path, but in beginning a relationship as well.
Worst of all, I hate myself for even considering what his opinion would be.
A knock sounds at the door, and I quickly glance at myself in the mirror. The burgundy corduroy skirt hits higher on my thighs than I’d like, so I opted for black sheer tights beneath it, a black long sleeve shirt, a cropped leather jacket, and a pair of short booties.
I sincerely hope I don’t look like I’m trying too hard.
I don’t even care about the guy.
When I get to the door, Reece is standing there, and I’m thankful that he looks more or less like the photos on the dating app.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” I say, noting the way his eyes travel down my legs and then back up again.
“You still good with that one bar? There are arcade games. I thought it could be fun.”
I smile, quickly swiping to share my location with Cass and Ellis before pocketing my phone. They know I’m on a date, and I got a million questions–most involving Noah’s name–but I decided to ignore that. The important part is that if Reece kills me, they’ll know what happened.
“Yeah,” I say, pulling my bag over my shoulder. “That sounds great.”
Reece is nice enough, I suppose.
He didn’t open my door for me, but he made good conversation in the car. When I talked about my favorite band, he handed me the AUX cord and listened to three songs in a row. It’s a green flag, if I’ve ever seen one, but somehow I couldn’t care less.
When we walk into the bar, the blaring music mixes with voices and the sound of the giant Jenga set falling. The scent of beer and fries make my mouth water, the tension leaving my shoulders until I spot him. Noah sits at a table with Ryan, Nolan, Wyatt, and one of the band members whose name I can’t remember.
I swallow, ignoring his presence and continuing my date as Reece offers to grab me a beer.
Standing by the Pac-Man machine, Reece hands me a bottle. “You played this before?” he asks, and my eyes drift briefly to the table where Noah sits, abruptly flicking away as I chastise myself.
“Pac-Man?” I question. “Who hasn’t.”
He chuckles, and I decide that he isn’t so bad–even if his car was the most beat-up vehicle I’ve ever seen in my life.
After one beer and a few rounds, I finally settle in. I don’t look at Noah except for every few minutes to check that he’s still there. Each time, he doesn’t even look at me, so I assume that’s a good sign.
It’s clear communication, really. Becoming too attached to Noah will end with me getting hurt. He has no feelings for me aside from physical attraction. If he did, he wouldn’t have made those comments in his office.
Ignoring the sting of that, I look at Reece setting his beer down on the empty stool near the game machine. “Want to switch it up?” he asks, his blonde hair falling across his brow, gray eyes muted in the bar lights.
“Sure, I was just thinking–”
“Lennon.” Noah stands beside me, and I stop talking. I didn’t even notice he had moved across the room. Straightening my spine, I steel myself.
Reece looks visibly confused, and I know it’s petty as the words leave my mouth, but it’s exactly why I say them.
“Hey!” I face Reece, gesturing to Noah without really looking at him. “This is Noah. We have mutual friends.”
I swear he flinches next to me, and I curse myself for tracking anything he’s doing at all.
“Oh, cool,” Reece says, holding out a hand. “I’m Reece.”
Noah doesn’t return the gesture. He glances at Reece’s hand and leaves it at that. Reece, clearly uncomfortable, grabs his empty beer bottle and holds it up. “I’m going to get another one of these,” he says before placing a kiss to the side of my head. It’s somewhat awkward–more than he’s done all night, but I accept it, somewhat pleased when I see Noah’s dark eyes narrow.
He’s wearing jeans again, a gray shirt and a flannel unbuttoned over it, and I roll my eyes. Of course, he added a leather watch to the ensemble. It’s Noah .
“You’re pissed,” he observes, and I turn away to start a new game on the console.
“Am I?”
He scoffs, stepping closer as I peek back at Reece, where he stands by the bar. “Why are you pissed, Lennon?”
My brows furrow, and I grip the joystick harder, quickly navigating the stupid fucking maze where this yellow fucking creature has to outrun the stupid fucking ghosts. “I’m not pissed,” I say, changing direction to go after the larger yellow orbs so I can eat those fuckers instead. “I’m on a date. Which you are ruining, by the way.” I laugh, but the sound is tight and clearly not the casual approach I wanted to take. “Maybe that’s what I’m pissed about.”
Noah leans in, the smell of his cologne invading my nostrils as images of him sitting by the fire and sprawled out on my bed flash unbidden in my mind.
His voice drops lower, the room narrowing until every inch of space feels taken up by just the two of us. “Do you hear yourself?” he questions.
I match his question with one of my own. “Why are you over here?”
“Why are you on a date?”
Pac-Man dies, and I don’t even bother to plan his sad funeral. I push the joystick upward, a bit too forcefully, and turn to face Noah head-on. “Because I want to be!” I say, my voice rising. “What the fuck, Noah?” I try to calm my racing heart, but his nearness, his nosiness –
I lift my chin. “Why are you bothering me? Didn’t you have a hook-up last night?”
There it is.
Showing all my fucking cards all at once.
I should be embarrassed.
“No,” he says, his voice cold. “No, I didn’t.”
I roll my eyes, wanting to believe him so badly. It's physically painful. “Right.” The word drips with sarcasm.
Noah places his hands on the console on either side of me, so close I’m helpless to do anything but look up and notice his intense gaze.
Caged in with the scent of tobacco leaf and vanilla swirling around me, inhibiting my judgment, I suck in a breath.
“I asked her to leave,” he says. “We didn’t–” He looks away briefly. “I haven’t slept with anyone else or been around anyone but you in weeks.” He glances back to the bar, finding Reece easily before standing straight with his arms at his side. The tense line of his jaw makes me want to reach out and touch him. “Why are you on a date with him?” he asks.
I watch Noah track the guy, realizing what’s actually going on. “Are you jealous?” I ask, one corner of my mouth turning upward.
Deep satisfaction washes over me–shameful but pleasant as Noah stares daggers at my date.
Noah’s gaze flicks to mine. “Yeah, I’m fucking jealous,” he practically growls.
His honesty surprises me, and my eyes widen. We’ve spent over a week dancing around what happened in the barn, neither of us willing to say a word about what happened. His blunt communication surprises me.
“What’s your plan here, Lennon? Are you going to sleep with him?”
I look down at where my hand now rests on the game, tapping near the start button. “You’re being inappropriate.” It’s my turn to lower my voice.
“Are you?” he presses, and when I look up at him again, I decide I won’t back down.
The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “Maybe.”
“It won’t be good.” Noah steps closer, his nostrils flaring as he looks down at me.
“And how would you know?” I ask.
“That guy–” He flicks his head in Reece’s direction. “He’s not going to know how to handle you.”
My brows lower, and I have the decency to be offended. Not know how to handle me? What the actual fuck? “And how am I supposed to be handled, Noah?” I practically spit the words at him.
Noah leans down, but I refuse to back away. At first, I’m relying on the spite that strengthens me, but when his lips brush my ear, my neck, I can’t help the way my stomach flips.
My skin set aflame at his touch and the memory of his fingers inside me. I want him–his hands–his mouth.
It’s pathetic.
“You know the sound you make when your orgasm finally starts building?” he starts. “That breathy little whine, you do?”
My heart pounds, the slickness between my thighs becoming all too apparent. “I–” I don’t know how to respond. His body is so hot this close to mine, and I’m scared I might actually burn alive right here in this bar.
“I know it,” he answers, his fingers ghosting over mine on the gaming console. “I crave hearing that sound from you because it means I’m doing my job.”
“Your job?”
Noah’s lips brush the shell of my ear, and I shudder. My entire body feels like a live wire.
“Tell him to go home, Lennon.” He presses a kiss to my neck. “I love this skirt, by the way.” He pinches the hem with his finger and thumb, placing another soft kiss on my sensitized skin. “Tell him to go home and save him the embarrassment.”
I nearly close my eyes and give in, but I refuse to back down. He was a fucking asshole yesterday, and Noah Ashwood deserves to know it.
“No.” I step back, holding my ground.
“Lennon–” he starts.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Noah. Nine sharp. We have furniture to pick out.”
Without another word, I turn on my heel and find my way to the bar where Reece is finally grabbing a hold of two beers. I take mine, chugging as much as I can gulp down before setting it on the wooden bartop and looking him in the eyes.
“Let’s go,” I say.
“Go?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m leaving.”
Reece looks confused, and rightfully so, but as my eyes fight the urge to find Noah across the crowded venue, I realize I don’t care.
Because Noah was right–it wouldn’t be good because Reece isn’t him.