Chapter 15 Brad
Brad
“You can’t be serious,” Noah laughs, a bright smile beaming on his face.
“I am so serious. In front of the whole school and everything.” I shake my head. I don’t even know why I’m telling him this, but the way he laughs at my story about falling off the stage in twelfth grade, how happy it makes him, makes me want to keep talking.
“That’s insane. It’s pretty cool that you played guitar in a band though. Why didn’t you tell me?” He shakes his head, looking out the window.
I shrug. “Stopped a long time ago. I didn’t want you to expect me to play anything for you.”
“You really fucked up in telling me then. You’re definitely playing something for me.” He bites his bottom lip.
“No way. Why don’t you play something for me?” I laugh.
“I don’t know how or else I would. Looks like you’re going to have to teach me something else.” Noah tugs at my arm.
I place my hand in his lap, where it’s been for most of this drive. He interlocks my fingers with his and brings the back of my hand to his mouth.
“Oh yeah? What was the first thing?” I smirk.
“Eating ass.”
My jaw drops. “Noah,”
“Brad,” he mocks, looking out at the trees. “I’m expecting you to teach me everything you know.”
Shaking my head, I look back at the road, as I try to stifle my laugh. “Well, I’m still a beginner, so we can learn together.”
Noah gives a slight laugh. “Sounds good,” he mutters lightly.
My brows furrow as I take in his sudden shift.
Glancing over at him, I notice that he’s zoned out, watching the trees along the curvy roads pass by.
He’s been doing that more often since we entered town.
We still have about thirty minutes left to our drive, but I can tell he’s getting antsy the closer we get.
“You okay?” I ask, squeezing his thigh.
“Hmm?” He looks back to me, biting his lip ring. The little time we’ve spent together, I feel so close to him that I can read him easily.
“You’re nervous about going home,” I mutter. “You have all the right to be. Hell, I am too.” I grip the steering wheel, wishing time would slow down.
“It’s not my home,” he says softly, looking down at our hands. I feel him squeeze me tightly, taking in a big, slow breath. “I think I just need a smoke,” he says, leaning his head back on the headrest. He hasn’t touched his smokes since the first night we got to the campsite.
I like to think it’s because he felt so calm with me. I’m itching to get him back to that level of relaxation again.
It’s already dark outside, the streets are quiet, and it feels like it’s just him and I out here.
I think quickly, and at the next light headed home, I take a left instead of going straight.
Noah doesn’t think anything of it until we’re heading down a dirt road, on the outskirts of town.
He picks his head up. “Wait. Where are we going?” No concern in his voice.
“We’re already late. What’s a few more minutes?” I smile, looking over at him. “Or an extra half hour?”
A soft smile creeps on his lips as he looks back at me.
I turn onto a dirt patch, well clear of any oncoming traffic, and cut the engine. This quiet part of town is mostly home to cornstalk fields and the occasional passing tractor. No one comes down this street at this hour.
I twist the keys so that only the playlist from Noah’s phone that’s plugged in is playing softly from the stereo.
Turning to him, I clasp my fingers between his. “Your mom stresses you out.” I immediately start racking my brain for alternatives for him for the night. “You can come stay at my place for the night. Tell your mom you’re driving to your apartment and just come to mine. Only if you want to.”
“It’s not that.” His lip quirks up slightly, and the small hint of a smile makes me feel better. “I mean, that sounds good— we should definitely do that. But, no, that’s not what I’m thinking about.” Noah shakes his head, looking down at our hands intertwined in his lap.
“Talk to me, then.” I urge quietly, unlocking my hand from his, only to slightly tug at his hair at the back of his head.
The last thing I’d want is for him to shut me out.
“It’s stupid.”
I huff out a laugh. “Noah, if you don’t tell me right now—”
“I’m going to need you to hate me. Or, at least act like it.” His eyebrows pinch together as he stares at my lips, waiting to hear the words. “I’ve never…actually, liked one of my mom's boyfriends before…she’s going to know something’s up. Like, instantly.”
My stomach twists. What we have is new and fragile.
There’s a huge part of me that wants to put as little time as possible between breaking things off with Veronica and being with Noah.
After being in our bubble all weekend, what if time apart forces us to realize just how reckless this is? I don't want him to regret this.
I’m worried. I’d rather us not play anymore games.
“She’s not going to care whether we get along or not,” I say, resting my forehead on his.
He closes his eyes and I hear him breathe out heavily through his nose. “You don’t get it.” That stings more than it should. But he quickly soothes the burn with, “I never act like this. She’ll immediately wonder why I’ve let you in so easily.” He clenches and unclenches his fists.
“So what? Maybe it’s a good thing,” I say, playing with his hair at the back of his neck.
I pull on it, lifting his head up to look me in the eyes. He looks tired. “Oh yeah? Let’s play with how this will go. Her fiancé goes away on a camping trip with her son, and right when they get back they’re not only two peas in a pod but then her fiancé suddenly breaks up with her?”
“But it’s not like that.” I pull back.
“She’ll make it like that. She’ll blame it all on me.” He starts biting at his thumbnail.
“So we act like we hate each other?” I swipe his hand from his mouth. “I don’t think I can do that.”
Noah frowns. I can tell something else is weighing on his mind.
"What is it?"
"There's something I didn't tell you about my mom and dad." His brows pinch as he swallows thickly. “I was the one who found out my mom was cheating. I was the one who told him.” His voice tightens. “And I think part of her will always hate me for that. For blowing up her perfect little family.”
He shakes his head. “If she suspects anything between us, she’ll think I’m doing it just to hurt her. Maybe at first I didn’t want you two together out of spite… but it’s not like that now.”
I search his eyes. He really thinks this is the best option. I don’t want to make Noah any more uncomfortable than he clearly already is. Not when the carefree, relaxed Noah is so beautiful. So perfect. He deserves to be that version of himself, always.
And maybe he’s right. Maybe the only way to keep us, is to pretend we don't exist. Keep her in the dark as best as we can. I wouldn’t mind staying in our little bubble for a little longer.
Noah huffs out a laugh. “Okay, you don’t have to hate me. Just don’t look at me like that.”
He pushes my face away as a smile tugs at my lips.
“I’m not looking at you like anything. Knock it off.” I grab his arm.
“Just be nonchalant. Be cool.” Noah smiles, trying to tug my arm away from him. I’m not letting him out of my grasp that easily.
“I am cool.” I narrow my eyes.
“Yeah, sure. I heard your falling off the stage story. I know exactly how cool you are.”
My mouth drops open. “I told you that in confidence, you little brat.” I lean over the console and dig my fingers into his thigh, making him wince.
The truck is quickly filled with laughter as he struggles to attack me back.
After a short burst of energy, we both settle down in our seats. Noah catches his breath, leaning against the truck door.
“If only you knew how hooked you got me,” he sighs quietly, running his hand through his hair.
“We’re going to make this work, Noah. I promise.
” I want to ease his worries. Even if I know better than to make promises.
It slips out and now there’s no taking it back.
Because the look he gives me, the shimmer in his eyes as his smile gets bigger, that’s a look I never want to take away.
I want it to be true so badly. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same now that I’ve gotten a taste of him.
Because the truth is, I’m hooked too.
We share a beat, feeling the space around us shrink as the tension in this truck thickens.
He lunges forward, capturing my lips, and I melt into him, eagerly claiming every inch of his mouth. He grabs onto the collar of my black shirt, tugging me closer, and I immediately feel myself harden at his urgency.
“I’ve got my work cut out with you,” I mutter against his lips, as I reach behind myself for the door handle. I need to make him feel good.
When he feels good, I feel at peace.
The cold air nips at my arms, as the door swings open.
“Hey, where are you going!?” Noah asks, as I hop out.
“Get out. I want your pants around your ankles by the time I get around this truck.”