25. Molly
25
MOLLY
“ W hat are you going to call him?” I asked gently.
Look, I know we had found the puppy together–I mean I was the one who actually crawled into the bush to get him–but there was no question about who he belonged to. Noah hadn’t put him down since we found him. We got him into his room and dried him off, then decided that we actually need to give him a bath, as he was covered with mud and sticks. That was quick enough, considering this dog was roughly the size of a guinea pig, and before long we were drying him again.
I had just returned from my room with my hair dryer, because Noah insisted that we dry the puppy as quickly as possible.
He turned the hair dryer on to the lowest setting and started moving it up and down to dry the puppy’s curly fur.
“Whiskey,” he said quickly. “I thought of it the moment I saw him.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Whiskey? Why?”
Noah picked the puppy up and turned him so I could see his face. He was brown and white, and had dark brown freckles across this tiny nose. I didn’t have a lot of experience with puppies, but he looked awfully young. I wondered if we needed to find his mother. Or milk.
“Look at his eyes,” Noah said firmly.
“His eyes?” I stared into him, unsure of what I was supposed to be seeing. “Are you going to use him to hypnotize me?”
“Yes, and give you ridiculous commands. No, stupid, look at what color they are.”
Oh. I stared harder, wondering what color they actually were. Not quite brown, but not blue, either. Something in between. “Um...”
“They’re the color of whiskey,” he said, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “And whiskey is my favorite drink.”
I smiled and shook my head, too amused–and too charmed, honestly–to want to argue with him. He turned the hair dryer back on and continued drying his puppy while I watched and marveled at the change that had come over him. Under the tree he’d been furious at me, and even angrier when I called him out on his bullshit. To be fair, I’d been shouting just as loud as him, and had lost my temper. I didn’t blame him for being angry. But that had all changed as soon as we found Whiskey, and now...
Now he looked like a ten-year-old who had been given his first puppy. His face was open and full of wonder, and his voice had grown softer than I’d ever heard it. He was being very careful with the little puppy, but I could see that he was already making lists of the things he might need. It was a side of him I’d never seen before.
I liked it.
“We need to get him some food,” I said. “I bet he’s hungry.”
“And thirsty,” Noah agreed. “Here.”
He tossed me his phone like this was somehow going to answer all our problems.
“Um, you think I’m going to call the grocery store or something?”
“No, stupid. Go on the grocery app and put an order in at the closest market. They’ll deliver it. Don’t worry; my card is already saved in there. You can just charge it in the checkout.”
I stared at him, feeling like he’d suddenly started speaking Greek. Just go into the grocery app? His card was in there?
Who the hell was this guy, and what had he done with Noah?
“Go into the grocery app?” I asked. “You have a grocery app on your phone? How do you even know that they’ll deliver dog food? How long does it take?”
“City like this? Maybe half an hour, if we’re lucky,” he said.
“Oh, right. So you... order groceries often? For all the dogs in your life?”
When he looked up, he was blushing. I hadn’t realized Noah was capable of blushing.
“Not for myself. But you know how Rivers likes to find an orphanage when we hit a big city? Buy the kids ice cream and stuffed animals?”
I nodded. Rivers had been doing that ever since we started going on tour, and it had always made me smile. For the longest time, he’d tried to pretend he didn’t need anyone else. But that sweet, soft boy had always been in there, trying to take care of other kids who didn’t have parents.
Noah shrugged. “He does orphanages. I do shelters. And when I’m there, I get supplies delivered. It’s not hard.”
He went back to drying the puppy like he hadn’t just said the most unexpected thing in the world.
“You volunteer at shelters while we’re on the road? And you never told anyone?”
More to the point: He never told me ?
Now the sly smile was back on his face. “Couldn’t. If I’d told people, they might have thought I was a big softie. And I can’t go ruining my reputation, now, can I?”
I stared at the guy I’d thought I knew like the back of my hand, my mind reeling. He’d just shouted at me in the parking lot about how I didn’t accept help, then rescued a puppy from freezing to death. Smuggled said puppy into his hotel room, given it a bath, and dried it with a hair dryer. He evidently volunteered at shelters when we were in big cities–or at least bought them supplies. The Noah I’d known would never take on responsibilities like that.
Or at least, I hadn’t thought he would.
Who was this guy, and what had he done with my friend?
I snuggled down into the covers of my bed with Whiskey curled against my stomach. This little dog was a tiny canine heater, and though I hadn’t known whether taking him to bed was a good idea, I was now enjoying the hell out of it.
I was also starting to think I might have to fight Noah for night time ownership of said puppy. He slept hot and didn’t need a tiny portable heater. I was always cold. I needed the heat.
Though I suspected I would lose that battle. The only reason I had custody of Whiskey right now was that Noah had been meeting with the band for dinner and drinks, and hadn’t wanted to leave the puppy in his room alone. He’d asked me to take him until the morning, and I hadn’t argued much.
Besides, I’d welcomed the company. My mind was spinning over all the things Noah had said, and once he was gone, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them. He’d been protecting me, or so he’d said. He hadn’t wanted me to be seen with him, not because it would damage his reputation, but because it would damage mine. Though I suspected there was more to it than that. Noah was, at his base, a selfish creature, and I wasn’t sure he could think of other people before himself.
I didn’t blame him. He’d grown up having to take care of himself because his mother wouldn’t do it. But still, it made it hard to believe he’d had my well-being in mind.
Then again, I never would have believed he’d take a puppy into his room and hide it there, or then want to keep it.
My world, it seemed, was changing.
I had thought I landed the perfect job, except that now that job depended on me getting Noah to agree to a nude photo shoot. I didn’t want to do it, and I didn’t even want to ask, but I would probably lose my job if I didn’t. I’d thought I was comfortable with being an orphan. But now some man was in the picture saying he was my dad, and it was tearing me apart. My best friend had become a guy I barely recognized, who I may or may not be in love with.
My whole body hurt. I felt like my soul was in conflict with itself, like it didn’t know which way to go. The world was pulling the rug out from under my feet, and I didn’t know how to recover. Noah had always been the one consistent thing in my life, and now I’d slept with him and evidently adopted a dog with him, though it might cost me my job and him his recording contract. I didn’t know if anything we had was real.
I liked it better when he was an asshole. At least then I knew what to expect.
I hated change.
A knock at the door interrupted this depressing train of thought, and I sat straight up. Th e puppy, who’d been asleep, yelped in surprise.
“Sorry, pup,” I whispered, hugging him close.
Whoever was at the door knocked again, and I hustled over there. It had to be past midnight. What did this person want?
Was it Noah, come for his puppy? Or come for me?
My heart beat harder at the thought of either losing the puppy or gaining Noah, and by the time I got to the door I was breathless with anxiety.
I jerked it open to find Anna on the other side. Not Noah.
“Anna,” I breathed, surprised. “What’s up?”
She lifted one very sleepy eyebrow. “Nothing good. Noah’s in the bar. He needs you.”
Wait, what?
“And I’m sleeping. He’s no longer my problem, Anna.”
She gave me a very sarcastic, very knowing look that made me think he and I hadn’t been as careful with our secrets as we thought we had. Or maybe Anna was just perceptive. I was going to hope it was the latter.
I didn’t like the idea that everyone knew what we were doing.
“It’s entirely your problem,” she said, her expression turning to sympathy. “Because you’re the one he’s shouting for.”