Chapter Nine Noah
Chapter Nine
Noah
We’ve been from one end of this festival to the other, proof of that being the cutest pink tint on the end of Goldie’s cold nose. Not that the cold has slowed her down any. I’ve never witnessed someone so invested in homemade bath bombs.
Truth be told, I didn’t actually know what they were until she gave me a lengthy explanation about the importance of self-care. I swear I was interested; I only laughed because Chase equated baths to dirty body soup.
The thought makes me chuckle to myself again as I watch her browse a rack of bracelets with her sister.
“All right,” Chase breathes out as he comes to stand next to me, holding a bag with a goldfish inside. “This shindig’s ending in thirty, so . . .”
My eyes fix to the fish. “Where did you get that?”
His forehead wrinkles like I’m the weird one for asking.
“I . . . won it. Little-known fact about me, Noah: A water gun in a clown’s mouth is my Olympic gold. Nobody’s better.”
Right as he says it, two elementary school–age girls walk by and side-eye him, to which he raises his voice.
“I’m especially not losing to cheaters who let their parents help them aim. Not today, playas.”
I shake my head, staring at his profile. “Stop talking. For the love of god. Please.”
Goldie shivers as she approaches, also eyeing the fish but choosing not to address it.
Which makes me smile as I reach out, for the millionth time today, and pull her body close to mine, enjoying the heat that melts between us.
It’s not just the feeling that I like, it’s the security of having her within arm’s reach. Especially after Evie’s news today.
I didn’t like it. I may never let her leave my house.
“What’s next?” I say to her upturned face. “The event’s ending in about thirty minutes.”
“Ferris wheel?” Chase throws out, staring at Evie, who pretends to vomit.
Goldie shakes her head. “Too cold.”
“Cannolis?” Evie tosses out as Chase grins with a dirty joke written all over his face, making her scowl again. “Don’t speak, cretin.”
He pretends to lock his lips and put the key in his pocket.
Goldie sighs, still staring up at me, so I whisper, “My place? Just the two of us . . .”
She nods, biting her bottom lip before snuggling closer. God, I might keep her. The scent of her hair wafts upward, making me dizzy on her as I lean down for a kiss, but Chase claps his hands together, interrupting the moment.
“House of Mirrors?” He shifts between all of us excitedly, sloshing his fish. “We have to . . . It’s a staple of a carnival, like gamja hot dogs and cotton candy.”
“I do love a Korean corn dog,” Goldie says as she looks up at me, buying into his unknowing cockblock.
But Evie’s face is deadpanned as she stares at Chase. “How are you the most unrelatable relatable person I’ve ever met? It’s astonishing.”
He grins and hands her his fish. “His name is Knievie. Like Evel Knievel, but Evie—”
“Yeah,” she cuts in, shaking her head. “I got it.”
She groans as she walks past him and takes the damn fish before grabbing Goldie with her other hand, dragging her away from me. “You’re going in with me.”
Goldie mouths “Sorry” over her shoulder as she’s whisked away a few steps ahead, making my eyes shift to Chase, who just winks at me. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, baby.”
“JC, I fear you’ll be stabbed to death before you get a single stone up.”
He looks at me, fully confused. “What? Who’s JC? Are we talking the great JC Chasez of NSYNC? Because he built that empire on the voice of an angel—”
He’s still running his mouth as I tune him out and shove my chilly hands inside my jeans pockets as we follow behind the girls, with only the hint of a smile on my face as I watch Goldie laugh with her sister.
She’s so beautiful. I just want to stare at her all day . . . Damn, I like the fuck out of this girl.
I knew that before this moment, but today’s really driving the point home. This has been one of the best days I’ve had since I moved here. And that’s because of her. Which is a problem.
At the time when we first met, I was happy to follow her lead. Respect her boundaries. Mainly because I’m not a piece of shit.
But now, I feel like the girl from that doctor show where she’s all Pick me, love me. Especially since those five little words she said earlier keep clanging around in my head like they’re in a mosh pit: And twenty years from now.
I knew she was joking. And that’s the aforementioned problem—I can’t stop thinking about how I liked the sound of it.
I’m falling hard for this girl, and there’s no part of me that thinks she isn’t feeling something more too.
That much was obvious with the slip of her tongue.
How much more, though, seems like muddy waters I’m too chicken to dip a toe in.
Fuck. I’m acting like a thirty-one-year-old middle schooler.
Pretty girls really do reduce men to boys.
My brows draw together as I watch her ass sway in front of me, but it’s not enough to hypnotize me away from my thoughts.
“Noah. Are you coming?”
Goldie’s voice carries over to me, and I suddenly realize that I’ve been standing in place, silently reasoning with myself.
“Yeah.” I grin, running my hand through my hair.
Chase gives me a look, like What’s wrong with you? But I shake my head, closing the distance to my girl.
I smile to myself, relishing the sound of that . . . “my girl.” Because that’s what she is, all mine.
When I reach her, she slides her hands into my jacket pockets.
“A penny for your thoughts.”
I shake my head. Chickenshit.
“A quarter?” She winks.
I give her the same response. She smiles brighter.
“Fine,” she huffs. “Keep your secrets.”
“A kiss,” I counter.
She pulls her hands from my jacket, resting them on my chest before raising to her tiptoes as I lean down.
Our mouths touch softly before they begin to press together with more insistence, as if one taste couldn’t be enough. It can’t be. The fullness of her lip dips between mine just as my hand lifts, cradling her face to deepen our kiss.
Fuck, kissing her is next level.
Goldie’s soft moan drifts between us, and her body sinks into mine. It’s like a siren’s call, becoming my only focus. But still, I kiss her with absolutely no rush, taking my fucking time.
Our heads tilt, tongues starting to tease and dance as my fingers slide back into her hair. She moans again into my mouth, making my grip tighten.
Every sound and every taste that comes from this woman makes me want to devour her more, to do shit to her nobody else should see. Her fingers curl around the fabric of my jacket, holding me close as we teeter toward lewd.
Fuck it. I don’t care.
I’m going to kiss the fuck out of my girl. And who’s going to stop me?
Both my hands are in her hair now as I hold her face to mine, kissing her like she’s the air I need to breathe. Our mouths are sealed, tongues swirling, and all I can think in this moment is how I can’t make myself end it.
“And it seems there’s not just charity in the air. Love is too.”
The voice in the distance slowly begins to seep in, growing louder until everything registers at once—the sound of Chase’s and Evie’s commentary, the laughs and cheers from the rides, and the news reporter.
It all hits me at once. Like a brick shattering our perfect bubble, reducing every ounce of heat I’m feeling to ice.
Goldie’s breathless as I jerk away, immediately turning my back to the cameras, pulling her in front of me.
“Shit. Sorry,” I mumble, blinking too fast, trying to keep my grin in place.
She’s laughing. “We keep doing that . . . making a show of it.” She smiles up at me. “Maybe this is our moment. Now we can piggyback off this fame to a million-dollar OnlyFans.”
I swallow, hoping she thinks my heart’s beating fast because of her.
It is . . . it was.
I walk her backward toward the House of Mirrors entrance and away from the news crew as she tucks her hands under my jacket, closer to my body.
“Oh my god, you’re so cold you’re shivering,” she says sweetly.
Be fucking chill. Say something.
What I can’t say is I’m not cold. Adrenaline and panic are the same. They spike quickly and drop off just as fast.
I clear my throat. “The only people making seven figures are selling feet pics. And these dawgs are shy. So, we’ll just have to be poor and happy.”
I glance over my shoulder, seeing that the crew have stopped filming and are packing up, so I look back at her. This time, my smile feels more genuine.
She dramatically rolls her eyes. “Who said we were using your feet? We’re trying to make money.”
More people file in behind us, and just like that, we’re back to being lost in a crowd. All the tension in my shoulders sloughs off as I throw myself back into this conversation.
“No way. I’m taping your shoes to your feet. There will be no feet pics.”
She chuckles, still rolling with the joke. “God, you’re such a tyrant. Fine, but I’m only agreeing because I like you so much.”
I stare down at her, half a smirk on my face. There must still be a little adrenaline running through my veins, making me brave, because I go all in.
“How much?”
Her brows rise. “What?”
I start playing with a piece of her hair.
“How much do you like me? You said, ‘so much.’ So, I wanna know how much is so much.”
I can feel her grip on my shirt tighten. “Well, what’s my scale?”
The familiar crackling between us starts firing like an electrical box. We’re just staring at each other, half smiles on our faces, silently urging the next question.
“One is I’m your boyfriend. Ten is—”
Only the sound of my heart is in my fucking ears as I stare at her mouth, scared to say the rest. Goldie blinks those big doe eyes up at me while nibbling on her bottom lip.
But just as I start to finish my sentence, Evie’s voice cuts in. “It’s our turn.”
Goldie’s spun around and pulled through the doors into the maze of mirrors, leaving me standing by myself.
“Fuck,” I rush out, snapping my face to the guy at the door who’s holding his arm in front. “Let me in.”