chapter eleven
kira
I’ve always loved this bookstore, the warm wood tones and books lining every wall. It’s cozy. Noah follows behind me as I browse through the sections, making my way to one in particular.
“You can go look at stuff too, you know?”
“I’m good.”
He asked for it.
I find the sign that says “ Romance ” and head right for it. It’s in a secluded area toward the back of the store. I can’t afford to buy anything right now, but I still love to look. I pick up one with a shirtless man on the cover and hear a quiet laugh behind me. I turn around to glare at him.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“Nothing, nothing,” he says, waving his hands in the air.
My cheeks heat, and I turn back around, grabbing another book. I feel him come up behind me. Reaching over my shoulder, he takes a book down. It has an alien on the cover, and he looks at me inquisitively.
“You wouldn’t get it.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he shoves the book back on the shelf. He glances down at the one I’m holding. I flip it to the back and read the description. I make it to the end when I see the words.
I want him, but I can’t have him.
He’s my best friend’ s dad.
I look up at Noah, a smirk on his face. I hurry to shove the book back where it came from.
“I think you should get that one,” he teases.
It honestly sounds like something I would read, but I’m not telling him that. I’ll make a mental note to add it to my Tbr.
He chuckles and wanders to another shelf. I ignore my embarrassment and continue looking through the books. There are a couple more that I find interesting, so I pull out my phone and make a list in my notes app.
When I tell Noah I’m ready to leave, he gestures to my empty hands, asking why I didn’t grab anything. I tell him that I don’t have the money right now.
“Let me buy them for you then.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?” he asks, genuinely confused.
“Because you’re already letting me stay with you rent-free, I’m not going to have you buying me things too.”
He protests but eventually gives in. As the sun sets on the horizon, we make our way back to the truck.
“Thank you for coming today,” I tell him.
“Of course, I wasn’t going to let you wander down here by yourself.”
When we get home, Jared is sprawled out on the couch, looking utterly miserable. His shirt is half off, and his shoulders are an angry shade of red.
I drop onto the cushion beside him, eyebrows raised. “ What happened to you?”
He groans. “ Keith failed to mention that mowing his lawn meant all two acres of it.” He shifts, wincing as his sunburn protests. “ Took me three hours.”
I bite back a laugh. “ Please tell me you at least put on sunscreen.”
Jared glares at me. That ’ s a no.
I shake my head. “ At least you know for next time?”
“ There will be no next time,” he grumbles. “ Not unless he pays me.”
Noah walks in from the kitchen, an easy smile on his face. “ Damn, that ’ s rough,” he says, nodding toward Jared ’ s shoulders.
Jared mutters something under his breath.
I go to grab the aloe vera from the bathroom, and when I come back, I squeeze some onto my fingers and start gently rubbing it onto his shoulders. He flinches at first but then sighs as the cool gel soothes his scorched skin.
While I work, Noah flops down onto the recliner, stretching out like he owns the place. “ We should go out tomorrow night,” he says casually. “ There ’ s live music at the brewery in town.”
Jared perks up slightly. “ That actually sounds fun.”
Noah smirks. “ Yeah, it’ll be a good family outing.”
I make a face. I’m not sure I love that phrasing.
Noah just winks, and I roll my eyes, but my stomach does a stupid little flip anyway.
Later that night, I ’ m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.
I should be thinking about work tomorrow. Or, hell, anything else. But all I can focus on is what happened in the kitchen with Noah.
There was something there. I know there was. The way he looked at me when I touched him—there ’ s no way he didn ’ t feel it, too.
But in the end, it doesn ’ t matter.
He ’ s Jared ’ s dad.
The cashier at the store today thought he was my dad, and when I corrected her, she looked like she was about to call the cops.
I exhale, curling the blankets tighter around me, forcing my mind to go blank.
I can ’ t let myself think about Noah like that.
I close my eyes and push him out of my thoughts.
No, please, no!
He doesn’t listen. Can he hear me?
I try to stop him, but I’m not strong enough, the alcohol slowing me down. He hoists me up over his shoulder, a grin plastered on his face.
Let go of me!
His grip tightens around me, and he opens a door. No, no, no. I know how this ends. I have to get out of here.
I need to fight back!
I’m pulled back to reality by Noah’s strong hands on me.
“Kira, it’s okay, I’m here,” he whispers.
I haven’t had nightmares like this in over a year. I thought I was past it, but seeing Zach must have triggered them. I can only imagine what Noah thinks. Tears stream down my cheeks as I look up at him.
“Kira, what is going on?”
“Can you just stay with me again? At least for a little bit?”
Reluctantly, he nods, sitting on the bed. Before, when I would have nightmares alone at night, I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep afterward. I was too afraid of going back into the nightmare. With Noah last night, it was different. He made me feel safe.
He lays back on the bed beside me, and I look up at him. I want him to hold me so I can sleep, but I don’t know how to ask. He seems to realize, holding his arm out so I can cuddle closer.
“I really shouldn’t be in here,” he says.
“I know, but I’m glad you are.”
His body is warm and hard beneath me. Wrapping his arm around me, he pulls me into him. His touch causes my skin to heat, and I try my best to keep my thoughts PG.
He’s here because he wants to make sure I’m okay, not because he wants anything to happen between us. I make it all ten seconds before I bring my hand up and place it on his chest, slowly tracing down his abdomen. He sucks in a breath, grabbing my hand.
“Kira, don’t start.”
I whimper, “Why not?” But I know the answer. We are already crossing a line here.
“Go to sleep,” he says, running his fingers through my hair.
The feeling is nearly orgasmic. I let out a little moan, instantly regretting it. He stops, looking down at me.
“Jesus, Kira, you can’t do that,” he groans.
Glancing down, I gasp, taking in the impressive bulge in his sweatpants.
He’s hard.
For me.
A hand comes down and grasps my chin, directing me to look back up at him. His gaze is heated, but there’s something else there, like he’s barely holding himself back. Our faces are so close now I can feel his breath on my lips. Fuck, I want him to kiss me. His jaw tightens.
“Last warning, princess. Go to sleep, or I’m leaving.”
I look up at him, trying to read the emotions playing on his face. His eyes narrow, and I give in, lying back down on him. If this is all I can have, then I’ll take it.
When I wake up, he’s gone, and the smell of coffee from downstairs tells me he’s probably already awake. It’s the beginning of June, and it’s finally starting to feel like summer, so I throw on one of my new pairs of shorts and a T-shirt and head downstairs.
Jared is seated at the kitchen island, and I’m surprised he’s up. He usually sleeps in. Noah is standing by the stove, his eyes fixed on me.
“I should probably get going soon,” Jared says.
“Oh? Where are you headed off to so early?” I ask.
“I completely forgot, but I have an academic advising meeting at MSU today. I should still be home in enough time to go to dinner, though.”
“Well, that’s exciting!” I tell him.
I’m happy for him. He’s always wanted to go to Michigan State ever since he was little.
The late afternoon sun casts long golden streaks across the yard as I work on my sculpture. The warm air wraps around me, thick with the scent of grass and clay, and a soft breeze teases the strands of hair escaping from my messy bun.
I glance down at my piece, brushing my fingers over the smooth, cool surface. What started as a shapeless lump of clay has taken on the delicate form of a cupped hand, fingers gently curled like it ’ s meant to hold something. But what? I tilt my head, studying it from different angles, but the answer doesn ’ t come.
Frustration prickles at me, but I force myself to set it aside. Sometimes, ideas need time to settle before they make sense.
Deciding I ’ m done for the day, I gather my tools, wiping my hands on an old rag before carrying the sculpture inside. In my room, I carefully wrap it in a plastic bag to keep the clay from drying out too quickly and place it on a shelf above my dresser. It ’ s safe there—waiting, like me, for whatever comes next.
A small thrill of excitement runs through me as I turn to my closet. I don ’ t go out much, and even though it ’ s just dinner, I want to dress up a little. My fingers skim over worn t-shirts and denim before landing on my favorite sundress. Cream-colored, with brown flowers and soft green leaves, it ties in the back, the hem brushing mid-thigh. Simple but pretty.
I slip it on, smoothing the fabric down before making my way to the kitchen. As I step inside, I catch the tail end of Noah ’ s phone call.
“It’s fine. Just be safe. We’ll do dinner another time. Love you too, bye.” He hangs up, looking up at me, his eyes trailing down my body.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Jared isn’t going to make it. He made some friends, and they convinced him to hang out tonight.”
“Is he still coming home, though?”
“He’s not sure,” he says, frustration in his voice. “ We ’ll get dinner another time. It’ s fine. ”
My face falls, “Why can’t we still go? I was kind of looking forward to it.”
“Do you really want to go with just me?” he asks, seeming genuinely surprised.
“Why wouldn’ t I? ”
“Fine, let me get dressed,” he says, disappearing upstairs.
When he comes back down, he’s wearing dark jeans and a faded black Metallica shirt. It hugs his muscled arms in a way that should be illegal. He looks good.
He clears his throat. “Ready to go?”
We pull up to the brewery, and it’s packed. There’s almost nowhere to park, so we end up across the street. Noah stays behind me until we reach the door, opening it and gesturing for me to head inside.
The interior of the building resembles a cabin, with wood paneling and warm lighting. It’s not too busy in here. Most of the people are likely already out back. We order two pretzels, and Noah gets a beer.
Almost all of the tables are full as we step through the back door. Some people even brought lawn chairs that they have perched up in front of the small stage. Scanning the space, I spot an empty two-person table and head straight for it, Noah following closely behind.
Looking around, I take in the sheer amount of people here.
“This place is popular tonight,” I say, setting down our food. The tables are all lit with a single candle in the center. Paired with the string lights wrapping around the fenced-in yard, the ambiance is immaculate.
“Well, yeah, it’s the only thing to do in Lake Ann,” he says with a chuckle.
The sun is dipping below the horizon as the band walks up on stage, each member grabbing their instrument. The crowd starts to cheer as they begin playing. I immediately recognize the opening riff to “Sweet Child O’ Mine. ”
“I love this song!” I squeal.
“A bit before your time, isn’t it?” Noah asks, a smile spreading across his face. I roll my eyes at him and sing along with the band.
He laughs, looking at me with curiosity in his eyes.
“Who sings it then?” he asks, trying to trip me up.
Not happening.
“ Guns N ’ Roses. ”
He raises his eyebrows, surprise on his face.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I tell him.
“I’d say so! First those books at the bookstore and now this?” he teases. My cheeks heat as I bring my hands to my face. Of course, he would bring that up.
“Listen, I didn’t know that’s what that book was about when I grabbed it.”
“Sure you didn’t,” he says, winking at me.
Fuck, I like that. He makes it so hard not to want him. Well, I can play that game too. I lean across the table, my breasts pushing out of the top of my dress the slightest bit. His eyes move down, taking them in.
“So what if I did?” I ask.
His dark eyes shoot up, reflecting the candlelight. A flurry of emotions shows there, and I can’t tell if he’s mad or about to kiss me.
I’m about to take it back, but I’m silenced by his rough hand brushing against my thigh under the table. His jaw tightens as he sucks in a breath.
“I’ll be right back,” he says before standing up and walking back into the bar.
I shouldn’t have pushed him. Nothing can happen between us. I know that. It would kill Jared, but I love his hands on me. Not to mention, he’s hot when he gets all grumpy. I glance up, watching the band play, when someone sits in Noah’s seat.
“Oh, sorry, that spot is ta—”
My heart stops in my chest when I see who it is.
It’s him.