Splintered Hearts

Twenty One

Jamie

Blinking one eye open, I look around for a moment, confused.

Baby-blue sheets. Plush, coffee-colored comforter.

Okay, not my bed then.

Even though it’s been nearly two weeks since Noah’s failed date with fake-cop Ben, it still jars me every morning when I wake up in his bed. We haven’t hooked up at all. Haven’t even kissed.

Yet every night, I find some excuse to end up in his bed, in his arms. I just sleep better next to him. I’m fully comfortable with this newfound codependency. The first night this happened, I’d been pacing the halls, not able to close my eyes, seeing... her.

Broken and bloody.

Noah had stormed out of his room, practically grabbing me and forcing me into his bed to sleep. Then the next night, and the next. Before long it was just expected that I’d end up in bed with him. Sometimes Noah would read, or listen to an audio while I slept in his arms. Sometimes he’d tell me about his stories or rant about the characters not behaving like they should.

It’s become a routine I crave.

Reaching out my hand, I don’t feel Noah next to me.

Where is he? Looking at his clock, I check the time.

Seven fucking thirty.

Who in their right mind—Noah’s door swings open. The man in question hums happily before he sees I’m awake, lying on my stomach, still buried in his sheets and scent.

“Morning, gorgeous.”

Like always, Noah’s compliments roll off his tongue with ease. They never stick anywhere meaningful. Noah loves to tease and flirt. It’s just who he is.

It isn’t about me.

“Why are you up so early?”

“I have to work, silly. Wanted to get a run in beforehand.”

“You usually work at night.”

“Your mom needs me earlier today, which is fine.” Noah comes to lie down next to me, and his scent fills my nose. God, he always smells good—fresh and clean. Even his sweat smells good. Which is a weird thought, but it’s true. “What are you going to do today?”

“I don’t know.” First, I need to work on getting out of bed, which is normally a difficult task. Noah grins at me before leaning in for a kiss. Flinching back, I frown.

“What?”

“Morning breath.” Rolling his eyes, Noah leans in for a kiss anyway.

Smelling good. Tasting good.

“I gotta get ready.” Moving away, he goes to his dresser and grabs clothes, carefully picking out an outfit as I attempt to blink myself into consciousness while watching his ass wiggle to whatever it is he’s listening to. The black spandex shorts leave nothing to the imagination, and the memory of my face between those cheeks makes my dick dig into the mattress. The gray cropped shirt shows off the lines of his lower back. His pale skin glistens with sweat.

Dragging myself upright, I get out of bed, but as I pass the mirror I flinch, forgetting I’m not wearing a shirt—something I’ve been doing less and less. Noah looks behind him with a smile. “What?”

“I just like looking at you. That’s all,” he says. Something crawls under my skin, splitting my ribs and grabbing my lungs, and as I walk into the bathroom, I try to make the feeling stop.

Flushing the toilet, I wash my hands and look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are less shadowed today. I didn’t take medication before bed last night or smoke at all yesterday.

I did take it easy, though. Noah’s shelf still needs work and maybe while he’s gone today I’ll work on it. I’m stiff but not sore, which is a win as far as I’m concerned.

Knocking on the door, Noah pokes his head in. “Mind if I shower?”

“No.” Grabbing my toothbrush, I keep one eye locked on Noah as he undresses and takes off his running clothes, chucking them in the basket. As he steps into the shower, I freeze in place, not able to do anything else. Noah didn’t ask me to leave, and I really don’t want to. My eyes can’t look away from his blurry body.

After he washes quickly the water shuts off and Noah grabs a towel to dry himself. His body is beautiful, and not for the first time my mind goes back to that morning—to kissing him, tasting him. The way he felt in my mouth and against my tongue.

My eyes drag down the lines of his abs before landing on the neatly trimmed hair above his cock that disappears under the thong he slips on. Great. All I’ll be able to think about today is his supple ass inside that tiny piece of fabric.

Slipping on dark blue jeans and then a navy blue sweater, a smile slips onto his lips. A small one, but a smile nonetheless. As he comes over to the mirror, I spit and make room for him.

Grabbing one of the many bottles on the bathroom sink, Noah washes his face before moisturizing it. “Here... smell.” He holds the bottle out for me and I lean in. Minty and warm, it smells really good.

“That’s nice.”

“You’re welcome to use any of these.”

Does he think I need to?

Of course he does.

I make zero effort while Noah actually gives a fuck. It shows too. His skin is glowing—dewy and soft. His lips are baby pink from the tint he dabs on before smoothing his lips together. While I’m not into makeup myself, it looks really good on him. I like that he wears it. His green eyes lock with mine in the mirror before he puckers his lips, blowing me a kiss. Squeezing something white into his hands, he runs it through his hair—it’s messy, but on purpose, and so damn adorable—then grabbing a tube, he dabs a little pink on his cheeks before blending it in.

When he picks up his contact container I frown. “Why are you wearing those?”

“My glasses look nerdy.”

Looking down at his black glasses, I shake my head. I prefer him wearing them. I know the contacts bother him, and I don’t see why he needs to go through that. “I like the way your glasses look.” They make his green eyes even bigger.

“Really?” I nod, splashing water on my face, and definitely not smiling when I see Noah reach for them, putting them on instead.

Giving himself a once-over before looking up at me, something in my chest crumbles at the sight of him. “Have a good day, alright?” Noah squeezes my arm. “Bye,” I say as he walks out.

“Oh.” Noah peeks back in, startling me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I forgot, though. I know it’s last minute, but can we have a small game night tonight?”

“Small . . . game night?”

“Yeah. Mark and Hunter. Maybe Bri if she can. Maybe some other people. I don’t know if Xavi wants to come. I just want to have a fun night. It’s Friday.” Because sitting here with me every night is boring as fuck.

“Uh, yeah.”

Noah frowns a bit. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Just tired.”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

Actually, I slept amazingly. Noah’s arms were a weighted blanket. They tethered me. It’s inevitable, though. Noah will be ripped away from me, either by his own doing or something bad will happen.

It will happen. It always does. “I slept fine. Just tired.”

Something sweeps over Noah’s face. “Well, take it easy today. If you aren’t into it, let me know. I’ll cancel.”

“No, it’s fine. Invite whoever you want. It’ll be... fun.”

“Aw. Maybe one day we’ll get to the point where you don’t look like you’re chewing glass when we have people over,” Noah teases, patting my cheek. “Okay, I’ll be home around five, then we can get ready. Seven okay? I’ll order pizza. My treat.”

“Okay.” Noah waves at me before disappearing again, and hearing the front door shut, I brace my hands against the counter.

I take a good hard look in the mirror. Most of the time I never really look at myself. It’s been years since I cared what the fuck I looked like—even longer since I cared about impressing someone.

Grabbing a bottle that says toner, I smell it. Slightly fruity. I have no idea what the fuck it does. Putting it back, I use Noah’s face wash. Then I grab the moisturizer, liking the way it makes my skin feel.

Standing straight, I try hard not to let the insecurity nestle into my skin. It’s hard, though. Before everything, I wanted tattoos all over my body, but even if I wanted them now, it would be nearly impossible. Not completely impossible, but painful and ugly. It wouldn’t look right at all.

Scraping the rough pads of my fingers against my sensitive skin, I shiver. The memory of Noah’s hands on me... fuck, he doesn’t even shy away from the worst of them. Even puts his lips on them. Noah looks at me like... like he likes what he’s seeing.

Looking at my stomach, I’m not out of shape, but I am a little soft, whereas Noah is all hard lines and sculpted curves.

I run my hands through my hair—there isn’t much to be done with it. Bri comes over once a month to cut it, but I shave the sides myself. It’s how I like it—short, low maintenance, and out of the way.

However . . .

Looking down, I pull my sweats out a little.

Okay, I could do something about that. No one has seen me naked in years, and yeah, I just stopped caring completely. Looking through my cabinet, I find the clippers and plug them in before stepping out of my sweats. Noah doesn’t seem to mind, but seeing him naked, seeing how well he maintains his body—well, I want a little bit of that.

After I’m done, I clean up the mess before showering. Another line of bottles doing fuck knows what line the shelf. How much shit does one person need? Grabbing a black bottle, I read it. “What the fuck is groin wash?” I smell it.

My dick hardens instantly. Fuck. That smell. The same one I inhaled, nosing along Noah’s balls. Warm, like vanilla. So damn delicious. Squirting some in my hand, I wash myself.

When I’m finished, I towel dry my hair before slinging the towel around my waist, and reaching for my phone, I hesitate... but I need help.

I let the phone ring until Xavi picks up. “The fuck you want?”

“I need to talk to Bri.”

“No.”

“Give it!” I hear Xavier cry out before I hear her. “Hello, sunshine.”

“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you help me with something.”

“Baby doll, when I said if you ever need help hiding a body, I was just kidding.”

“If I send you some money, can you go down to the store on Erie and pick me out some clothes? I’ll send you my sizes.”

“Are you asking me to dress you?” Maybe this is a bad idea. “How much are you sending me? What’s our budget?”

“Um—”

“Don’t be cheap, Jamie!”

“I just want—”

“Because honestly, babe, I’ve thought you needed this for years.”

“Thanks.”

“So what are we looking for? Formal? Casual? Sporty? No sweats! I swear to fuck Jamie if you make me grab sweats I will buy you the trashiest pair of sweats with writing on the ass in goddamn rhinestones, I swear I—”

“Just...” Sighing, I shake my head. Maybe this is a mistake. “Just buy me normal shit I can wear.”

“No glitter?”

“No.”

“No lace?”

Oh my fucking god! “Get me normal shit that will not make me want to peel my fucking skin off if it touches my body.”

“I guess. How many outfits?”

“Four.”

“Nine.”

“No, I just need—”

“Seven. One for every day of the week. Final offer.”

“I just need four—”

“Eight.”

“Fine, seven. Jesus.” What the hell am I even doing?

“Okay, let’s talk makeup. Eye shadow? A little lip gloss?”

“No.” Not that I’m against wearing it, it just isn’t me. “No makeup.” Thinking a moment, my mind goes back to that groin wash—smelling it on Noah’s skin. How quickly it made me hard. Fuck, I want that. Want something that would remind Noah of everything we did when I wore it. “Get me some cologne, or just something like that.”

It’s quiet for a moment and I almost think she’s hung up. “Bri?”

“Yeah.” All joy leaves her. I can hear it. Her voice lifeless. “I’ll find something.”

“You don’t have to, I’m sorry, I just thought you would—”

“It’s okay, Jamie.” She tries to pull some cheer back into her tone but it falls flat. “I can’t wait. Just text me some things you like. A starting place for me to work off.”

“Okay.” Something twists in my gut but I can’t place why. “Are you alright?”

Again there’s silence but I can hear her breathe slightly. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Just reminds me of going with her and dressing her. The perfume, it’s—” She stops talking, but she doesn’t need to. I understand, and fuck, I’m a dick. I didn’t even think.

“I’m so sorry, Bri. I wasn’t thinking.”

She sighs. “It’s okay. Not all of us avoid talking about her. It just hit me, that’s all. You know how much she loved perfume. I’m okay. More than okay, I’m so excited. I’m leaving in ten. Text me some stuff you like.”

Not all of us avoid talking about her. Ouch. “Yeah, of course.”

“And that will be two hundred. On top of your budget.”

Smiling, I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Deal.”

“What’s Noah’s favorite color?”

“Um, red. Why?”

The smile returns to her voice. “No reason.”