Twelve
Alex
“What are you doing tomorrow?”Noah asked a couple of hours later.
I had shared my lasagna, though I hadn’t made him work that hard to convince me.
After dinner, he’d sat with me on my reclaimed couch and watched an episode of my favorite court drama, even though he hated that couch with every fiber of his being.
I’d bought it for ten dollars and spent a hundred more to have it cleaned and fumigated, and I’d been damned proud of my resourcefulness.
Noah had threatened to burn it.
I’d countered he’d better not.
I’d taken his silence on the matter as a victory, but he’d proven his point when he’d bent me over the couch and fucked me like he hated me as much as he hated the couch.
I couldn’t help but blush every time I looked at it, something I knew he didn’t miss.
After we’d finished watching TV, I’d grumbled about getting to bed. Gentleman that he was, he lay me down gently and then lay beside me, holding me tight, the feeling so perfect that I felt tears prickbehind my eyes.
Ordinarily, he would be gone at this hour, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was happy for him to be here.
And instantly suspicious when he asked again, “What are you doing tomorrow?”
He didn’t often ask what I was doing, and besides, the answer was always pretty clear.
Either working, thinking about working, or getting prepared to go to work.
A better, more sophisticated woman would probably have made something up, but it hadn’t occurred to me to do so, and I didn’t have the energy to try.
“Why?” I asked.
He was lying behind me, his hands interlaced with mine, occasionally brushing light kisses here and there.
Granted, I’d never had much of an opportunity, but I’d never thought I would be such a big fan of this kind of physical affection.
I loved it from Noah.
Couldn’t get enough of it.
“It’s your birthday. So I want to know what you’re doing,” he said.
I twisted to look at him. “How do you know tomorrow is my birthday?”
“Birdie mentioned it,” he said.
“When would my birthday have come up with Birdie?” I asked.
“At lunch last weekend,” he said.
A lunch I had been invited to but had missed because I was doing some notary work. “She was disappointed that her and Dominic’s trip was going to conflict with your birthday,” Noah said.
“Yeah,” I responded.
Since my mother’s death, I spent most birthdays alone or with Birdie.
But this year, being alone didn’t sting quite as much as it might have otherwise.
I’d gotten over not spending any time with my father and tried to focus on the bright side. I hadn’t had much free time recently, so my plans for tomorrow were to binge watch TV, nosh on whatever was left of my lasagna, and maybe have a celebratory cake pop if I decided to splurge.
The plan had seemed perfect, but now…
“Why are you asking again?” I said, blinking at Noah.
He kissed my ear, then laid his head atop mine before giving me a squeeze.
“Don’t be so suspicious,” he said.
He pulled away, and I shivered at the loss of his warmth.
As he pulled on his clothes in those now-familiar fluid movements, I couldn’t look away, wanting—more than anything—to ask him to stay.
But I was too scared to say the words, almost too scared to even accept that I was thinking of it.
Noah had never even suggested staying over, and I was too chickenshit to ask why.
Maybe he didn’t want to, or maybe he thought asking would scare me off.
I internally shook myself, reminding myself that I was letting things get out of hand.
Noah was nothing if not upfront, so if I had questions, all I needed to do was ask him.
That I was terrified of the answers was my own problem, one that I wouldn’t visit on him.
“So, you’re not doing anything tomorrow,” he said.
I scrunched my face up. “I didn’t say that.”
Noah laughed. “Your face is going to get stuck like that, Alex. And be ready by five.” He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
“Ready for what?” I asked.
“Good night, Alex,” he said as he left my bedroom.
I just laughed and listened as he left my apartment, deciding that it wasn’t even worth wasting my breath to push for answers.
Noah wouldn’t say anything until he was good and ready, so I wouldn’t waste my time.
Better to focus on tempering my growing excitement and telling myself it was nothing.
By the time five the next day rolled around, I had done—more or less—a pretty good job of doing just that.
I hadn’t even agonized over what to wear, deciding to dress casually in jeans, ballet flats, a nice scoop neck shirt that showed more cleavage than I usually went for but knowing I would appreciate the way Noah would look at me while I was wearing it.
Other than Birdie and Dominic’s wedding, I’d never seen Noah dressed in suits like his brothers. He definitely preferred a more laidback style.
I told myself tonight wouldn’t be any different.
Maybe dinner, some chocolate-covered strawberries, and maybe Noah would spend the night.
A nice, low-key birthday.
He knocked on the door at four fifty-nine exactly, and I rushed to open it, not even trying to pretend I wasn’t excited and relieved when I saw he was wearing a black T-shirt, dark wash jeans, and his leather jacket.
“What’s that?” I asked, looking at the large green box with white ribbon wrapped around it.
“Happy birthday, Alex,” Noah said as he walked in.
“Did you get me a gift?” I asked, trying not to smile or to stare at that box.
He lifted one corner of his mouth and shook his head. “Yes, Alex, I got you a gift.”
“You didn’t have to give me a gift,” I said, even though I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
“I know I didn’t have to get you a gift,” he said, his voice so patient I knew he was teasing me.
“I’m just saying, that wasn’t necessary,” I countered, unable to resist the desire to be contrary.
Noah didn’t take the bait. “What you meant to say was, ‘Thank you Noah, I can’t wait to see what’s inside.’”
I took the box from his hands. “Thank you, Noah, I can’t wait to see what’s inside.”
And I couldn’t.
Quiet as kept, I loved presents.
Who didn’t?
That it came from Noah was only that much more exciting.
I shifted the box in my arms. “This is heavy. Did you get me a new law dictionary?”
“Do you want a new law dictionary?” Noah said.
“I mean, I don’t have the newest edition.” I giggled and went deeper into the living area.
I set the box on the two plastic bins I had turned into a coffee table and tried not to be annoyed that my renter’s insurance hadn’t paid out yet.
I pulled open the ribbon slowly, curiosity almost eating me up, but the fun of the moment helping me stay patient. I pulled off the lid and saw another box inside.
“Is this a box inside a box?” I asked, looking at him.
He laughed. “I was this close to having them wrap both.”
I laughed as I opened the second box, this one a long, glossy black rectangle.
I pulled off the top and peeled back the tissue paper to peer inside.
“Oh my fucking God!” I said on a whispered breath, not believing what I was seeing.
I looked in the box, then to Noah, then back in the box again.
“I take it that’s good,” he said, an unfamiliar note of uncertainty in his voice.
I couldn’t pay close attention to him, my focus riveted on what lay inside the box.
Knee-high lace-up boots in entirely impractical off-white suede.
The boots of my dreams.
“How did you…?”
I looked at Noah, then back at the boots. I hadn’t even told Birdie how much I loved them. But every time I walked past the boutique that sold them, I gawked.
Once, I’d tried to rid myself of the obsession and decided to try them on. I’d expected them to not have my size, or if they did, I’d expected the boots to look horrible.
Wrong on both accounts.
They’d carried my size in wide, medium, and narrow, and the boots made my long legs look longer and made my thighs look sexy as fuck.
I’d fallen even deeper in love.
Had had my heart broken by the mid-four-digit price tag.
At that memory, I looked up at Noah and saw the slightest furrow in his brow. “I saw you looking at them when we went to dinner a couple of weeks ago,” he said, answering my unasked question.
I let myself think back, then remembered when Noah had walked me home from work one evening since he’d had business near my office. We’d grabbed a quick dinner on the way back to my apartment.
As far as I recalled, I’d glanced at the boots like I always did but hadn’t even broken conversation.
Of course, I should have known by now that Noah didn’t miss a single thing.
“Thank you,” I said, looking at him, trying to keep hold of my emotions as I pushed the tissue paper back into the box and put the lid back on top. “But I can’t take these.”
“Of course you can,” he responded.
“Noah,” I snapped, cutting my eyes at him, “I know how much these cost, and I?—”
He cut me off. “Alex, I can afford it.”
I huffed. “I know that, jerk, but I don’t take advantage of people, no matter how rich they are,” I said.
“You’re not taking advantage,” he said.
“I’m also not for sale,” I said.
His eyes flashed, and I watched as he refocused. “Alex, I didn’t buy you the boots for any other reason except that I wanted to. Now hurry up and put them on. We have to go,” he said.
I knew that tone, and the expression that accompanied it.
They were the ones that said he was done with the conversation, and no amount of arguing would get him to revisit the topic.
Noah was nurturing, so much so that I sometimes forget how stubborn he could be.
I looked at the boots, and my emotions threatened to overwhelm me.
It wasn’t even how much they cost, though that was almost heart attack inducing.
No, the cost wasn’t what had gotten to me. It was that he had paid attention to something so minor…
I nodded and swallowed, refusing to cry.
“Thank you,” I said, deciding that those simple words, ones that I meant with all my heart, were the best—and only—thing to say.
To say anything else would open doors I wasn’t sure I was ready for and would require me to acknowledge feelings I hadn’t fully admitted to myself.
I sat on my couch, smiling at Noah’s frown. “Nope. I will not have you talking shit about my couch on my birthday,” I said.
Noah huffed. “Put on the boots so we can go.”
Before I picked them up, I ran my hand down one of the boots, the butter-soft suede against my palm making me smile.
Then, my hands shaking slightly with my emotion, I slid on one, then the other, sighing with contentment at the perfect fit.
Tears threatened, and to stave them off, I stood and gave an exaggerated spin, hoping the humor would help shield my emotions from Noah, though I wouldn’t bet on it.
He looked at me, his face warm, though he wasn’t smiling. “You look beautiful,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice.
The intensity in his eyes made me feel exposed, and to my shock, I was okay with that. If nothing else, Noah had proved I could trust him. Being able to do that was the best birthday present of all.
“Thanks,” I responded, my voice thick.
I stretched up tall and brushed my lips against his cheek. Before I did something else, I grabbed my jacket and then walked toward the door.
“Are we walking?” I asked, looking over at Noah as we exited the building.
“Nope,” he said.
He ushered me into the back of an SUV that was idling in front of the building.
“Let’s go,” Noah said to the driver.
And then we were off.
Noah and I hadn’t gone out often, and the few times we had, we’d always walked. He had offered—damn near insisted—that we go places, but I resisted. I was trying to keep my head on straight, keep my growing attachment to Noah at bay. Plus, I’d been busy with work.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask why he had a driver tonight, but when he grabbed my hand and interlaced our fingers, I just smiled at him with contentment.
A smile that soon dropped when I managed to tear my gaze away from Noah and looked out of the vehicle’s windows.
“Where are we going?” I asked, watching as the surroundings turned from city to more industrial.
“The airport,” he said.
“We’re having dinner at the airport?” I asked, looking at him confused.
He used his thumb to wipe the line between my brows.
“No, Alex, we’re not having dinner at the airport,” he said.
“Then what are we doing?” I asked as the car continued on.
“We’re having dinner in New York, and then we’re going to a concert,” he said.
“Dinner in New York?” I said, opening and closing my mouth before I realized now wasn’t the time for my fish impersonation.
“Yes. We’ll helicopter over. It’s a short trip. After dinner, we’ll head to the arena,” he said.
“For what?” I asked.
“The concert,” he responded evenly, clearly teasing me.
“What concert?” I asked.
He laughed and said the group’s name. “They sing six of the top ten songs in your most played, so I thought you’d like it.”
I shouldn’t have been taken aback, not after one fleeting glance at those boots, but Noah knew my favorite band, one that I couldn’t recall ever mentioning to him.
I looked at him, studying his face, trying to figure out what to say.
He stopped me before I said a word and squeezed my fingers.
I looked into his eyes, blinking, and then spoke before I could change my mind. “What is this?”
“It’s your birthday, and I wanted to spoil my girl,” he said nonchalantly.
He may have said the words nonchalantly, but I felt anything but.
I kept looking at him, weighing my next words heavily, again deciding to speak before I could talk myself out of it.
“And am I your girl, Noah?” I asked.
He didn’t miss a beat. “I want you to be.”
My heart thudded, my emotions shifting from elation to confusion, then back again.
“What about…?” I started but couldn’t finish.
“Keeping things quiet?” he asked.
I nodded timidly.
His lips lifted in a soft smile. “That was your idea, remember?”
“I do. But what about no strings attached? That was your idea,” I said.
He shrugged. “So it was.”
“What does that mean?” I said.
He smiled, his eyes bright. “It means fuck it.”
I laughed. “Just that simple, huh?”
His smile dropped ever so slightly, and I saw uncertainty, something I almost never saw from Noah. “I hope so,” he said.
I stared at him for a long moment, my thoughts racing.
But among them, one stood clear, true.
The way I felt with Noah was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and even though he hadn’t said as much, I sensed that I mattered to him.
Which terrified me. But this—him—was something I wanted to hold onto.
I looked at him and knew that all I needed to do was trust.
“So, let’s go. But if you’re taking me on a helicopter, don’t expect to get your hand back,” I said.
He smiled, then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. “Don’t worry, Alex. You can hold me for as long as you want.”