Chapter Eighteen
We spend the day curled up on the couch, the TV playing, but neither of us paid it much attention.
We’ve spent the time talking about nothing and everything, and it took me back to the days when life was simpler.
When all we needed to worry about was getting up in the morning in time to catch the school bus and complaining about homework.
I almost miss it, even though back then the type of life I have now wasn’t even a thought. I remember a day spent just like this, except we’d skipped school rather than work.
Rain pours from dense gray clouds, a wind whipping through the trees that surround the abandoned trailer Sid and I had somehow stumbled across years ago.
No one comes out here, and the two of us had claimed it as our own.
Cleaned it up and brought along pillows and blankets to cover the old, dusty furniture that had been left behind.
We always worry someone will come across it and report it, and one day we’ll find it gone, but that has yet to happen.
Sid reaches down and switches on the rope lights she had hung up all around the space, illuminating our little makeshift den and washing it in gold.
It’s easy to pretend it isn’t some piece of shit trailer when we’ve both worked hard to make it a second home of sorts for us, although it’s probably more for me than it is for Sid.
It’s no secret I have a shitty home life.
No dad and a mom who would rather get high than put food on the table.
I haven’t told Sidney, but I’ve lost count of how many nights I’ve stayed in this trailer, if only to save myself the pain of seeing Mom passed out on the couch after her binge. It smells like Sidney in here, has her mark all over it, and with her is the only place I’d rather be.
I think I’ve loved my best friend from the moment I made her jump in the hallway at school.
She pulls the cans of soda from her backpack and places them on the table, along with all the snacks, a twinge of guilt twisting up my stomach. I never bring anything.
Sidney never complains, because of course she doesn’t. She’s all things good and pure, and light. Much too good for me.
“This is terrifying,” she giggles, cracking open one of the cans before she leans back on the cushions and grins at me. My heart twists at the sight. My favorite thing in the whole damn world is that smile. It lifts up her cheeks and crinkles the corners of her eyes.
“Why?” I laugh. “Never played hooky before?”
“No!” She sips her drink. “Mom’ll kill me if she ever finds out.”
We’re in senior year and it really shouldn’t surprise me that she’s never ditched school before.
I used to do it all the time, but Mom never cared, so I had no reason to stop.
Well, I didn’t until I met Sid. She’s the only reason I got my grades back on track and actually started to take school seriously.
“It’s our little secret,” I wink at her.
“Here,” she places her soda down and pulls her scrapbook from her bag, “I added to it.”
She passes over the thick book, grinning when I take it from her to look at what she’s added. I open it to the newest page, running my hand over the pictures and patterns she stuck to the paper, tracing the curves of the letters she has written on the blank spots.
Sidney’s Life Road Map.
Step one: Graduate high school and go to college.
Step Two: Meet the love of my life.
Beside them there are cutouts from magazines, a high school graduation cap along with pictures of couples and little heart stickers.
Step three: Get married and have babies.
She’s stuck pictures of pacifiers and baby cribs beside this one.
Step Four: Open Peace and Peonies.
“Just four steps?” I speak through the lump in my throat.
I try to pretend that life won’t move on from this…
us. But eventually, it will. Eventually she will meet someone and forget about me.
We’ve never been anything more than friends, and any opportunity I may have had went out the window the day she declared me her best friend.
Every day I tell myself I’m okay with that, that she deserves more than anything I can give her, but it doesn’t make it sting any less. I just hope she doesn’t outgrow me; I’m not sure I could ever live without her.
I know it makes me selfish; I know she can do better, and yet letting her go isn’t an option. Not when she gives me a reason to breathe.
“Only need four,” she nods confidently. “What more could I want? Education first, of course. Settle down second. Open my business last. It’s the perfect formula.”
“What about traveling?” I ask.
“I can do that eventually,” she shrugs. “What do you think?”
I stare at the four steps she has written, memorizing the curves of her letters, the way she dots her i’s with little hearts.
“If this is what will make you happy,” I flip the page to see an entire board of ideas for her flower shop, color schemes and lighting, pretty floral designs scribbled on the edges of the page. “Then I say it’s perfect.”
She beams at me, “What about you, Noah?” She places her book back in her bag and looks at me expectantly, “What do you want to do?”
Swallowing thickly, I meet her coffee stare, “Survive.”
Just long enough to get the fuck away from my mom, get to college, and then I’ll figure it out from there. Most people don’t see a future for me, and I can’t even really say I blame them. Before Sid, I didn’t see a future for me either.
Her shoulders lower and her face softens before she walks on her knees to me, throwing her arms around my neck.
I immediately wrap mine around her, letting her crawl into my lap so she can hold me in that way of hers.
It’s like she’s the glue holding all the pieces together.
I tuck my face into her neck and inhale her flowery scent, her silky hair tickling my face.
“You’re going to do more than just survive, Noah Calahan,” she whispers against me, the tips of her fingers threading into the shaggy hair at the back of my head.
I really need her to cut my hair, but we’ve been so busy studying for finals, we keep forgetting.
“You’re going to thrive, and you know what? ”
“What’s that?” I pull back so I can look at her pretty face, counting the freckles on her nose and cheeks.
“I’m going to be right there,” she smiles, “cheering you on. I’m already so proud of you.”
“Always gonna be here for me, huh?” For a second, I let my gaze drop to her mouth, lips shiny with gloss.
“Always, Noah,” she breathes, a rasp in her voice.
My eyes bounce back to hers, and the air between us turns hot and tense. My breath stalls in my throat, heart thumping wildly in my chest. Her gaze drops to my mouth, and for a moment I think she may kiss me, may finally cross that invisible line drawn between us. Fuck do I want her to kiss me.
A sudden boom of thunder whips through the sky outside, shaking the trailer around us, and she leaps out of my lap, landing in a heap against the cushions. Her wide eyes hold mine for a moment longer before she clears her throat and drops my gaze.
I give myself a second to regret not just closing the gap and kissing her, but then push it away, knowing it could never happen.
Kissing Sidney would ruin what we have.
And I can’t lose the only person I have ever loved.
It seems like a lifetime ago that I was that troubled kid with a chip on his shoulder, but Sidney did what she promised. She cheered me on. She rooted for me. Believed in me when the world thought me nothing more than damaged goods.
Sidney is napping while rain taps against the windows, stormy clouds tumbling above the city.
Prying the hot water bottle from her grasp, I get up off the couch and stretch out my muscles that have been in the same position for too long, my joints cracking as I do and then walk to the kitchen to change the water so it’s hot again for her.
I often wonder about that trailer and if it’s still there.
It’s been a long time since either of us has been out that way; I can’t even remember when the last time was.
Before we both went off to college, that’s for sure.
When we graduated, both of us fell headfirst into getting ourselves together, but she goes out that way more than I do since her family still lives in the suburbs.
Returning the bottle, I tuck it against her and then head through for a shower, my cell in my hand as I frown down at the hundred-plus emails waiting in my inbox.
I could power through them now while she’s sleeping, but not working today has been nice.
All both of us have done since getting out of college is work.
When do either of us get to rest like this?
Stripping off my clothes, I hit the button on the shower, the water heating immediately and steam begins to fill the space, misting over the large vanity mirror above the sink.
Stepping beneath the spray, I let it wash down me, my mind only ever on her.
My hand runs over the peonies etched into my chest, over my heart, her peonies, forever inked into my skin.
Behind me, the door creaks open, and I glance over my shoulder to find Sidney standing in the doorway, my shirt falling just a little above mid thigh and I can see the edges of my boxer shorts.
She crosses her arms and drags her eyes down my naked form, everywhere her eyes touch leaving my skin pebbled with goosebumps.
Pushing open the door, I silently invite her to get in here with me.
Another boundary to cross, another invisible line to erase.
“I’m bleeding,” she says quietly, hesitating, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth.
“I don’t care,” I hold her eyes, watching her war with herself. “Keep the tampon in, take it out, it’s your choice. Just let me take care of you.”
She steps further into the bathroom and pushes the door closed, but still hesitates.
“It isn’t about sex, cricket,” I rasp, “I just want to look after you.”
I watch her throat work on a swallow, but then she reaches for the hem of the shirt and pulls it off, throwing it down into the hamper before she removes my boxers and moves to climb in with me.
I keep my eyes on her face, watching her expression and take her hand to help her under the spray, bringing her in closer to me. Lifting my hand, I brush away some hair and then stroke a finger along her cheek, heart hammering inside my chest.
“Should we be doing this?” She whispers, voice barely audible above the sound of the shower.
I contemplate my answer.
“Just pretend,” I reply, gravel lining my voice. “Just pretend that this is us and this is what we have always done. Pretend for a few minutes.”
Her lashes flutter, “Okay.”
My hands lower, moving down her neck and then to her shoulders, following the lines of her body before they move to her hips, and I tug her fully under the spray, capturing her mouth with mine.
My arms wrap around her, pinning her to me as my tongue explores her mouth, and she melts into me, the kiss slow and raw, passionate and different to the ones we’ve shared up until now.
It’s natural, the way we fit, the way our tongues dance and bodies move. Her hands are trapped between us, one over the peonies on my chest and her fingers flex, nails biting in a touch as if to hold me there. Doesn’t she know I’d never want to be anywhere else?
The kiss turns softer before I pull away and stare down at her. Coffee eyes meet mine, open and vulnerable. The way she’s looking at me reminding me of that stormy day in the trailer.
Swallowing thickly, I drop my hands. “Turn around.”
She rolls her lips and then turns, my hands going to the curve of her waist so I can hold her while I press soft kisses to her shoulder and then up her neck.
She angles her head to allow me further access, relaxing back into me while the water falls against us both.
As much as I try not to get hard, it’s impossible when she’s pressing back against it.
“I’m going to wash your hair,” I rasp, stepping away so I can get it together and do what I wanted to do in the first place. In this bubble, it’s just me and her and all that could be.
Reaching for the shampoo I buy just for her, I squirt some into my hand and then gather up her hair, lathering it into the dark, silky strands and massage my fingers into her scalp. She leans her head back, eyes shuttering closed.
After I rinse it out, I move to the conditioner, coating the ends and leave it to sit while I grab the soap.
“I can do that,” she looks over her shoulder.
“Let me,” I ask.
She dips her head in a nod and turns to face me, holding still as I begin to smooth the soap over her body, starting at her neck and shoulders. I run the soap down her arms and her hands, over each finger before I move to her stomach, following the curves of her, up and over her ribs.
Her breath catches as I move over her full breasts, watching the suds smooth over the swells and drip down her nipples. Her lashes flutter, and my teeth snap together, and I quickly move away, but she grabs my wrists, stopping my retreat.
“Keep going,” her voice shakes, pupils blown as she pleads me with her eyes.
“That feel good, baby?”
Another hitch of breath sounds in the shower, and she runs her tongue along her bottom lip, dipping her chin in a nod.
“Tell me.” I order softly.
“It feels good, Noah.” She breathes.
“What feels good?”
Hearing her say it is as much of a craving as a taste. Listening to the words roll off her tongue, the truth of what we are as sweet as music.
“Your hands on my body.”
My teeth sink into my lip as I place my hands back where she wants them, my thumbs gently teasing over her hardening nipples.
I fucking love how responsive she is to my touch, and I can’t help but wonder if I’d be able to make her come, just like this.
Work her without ever touching her pretty pussy, tease and stroke and touch until her body simply can’t take anymore.
She closes her eyes and pushes out her chest for more, and for her, I’d give the damn world.