Chapter 25
Millie
The library smells like citrus polish, old paper, leather spines, and rain. A few windows are open, airing the space after the cleaners have done their thing.
I’m wrapped in my blue sweater but still shudder as a damp, earthy breeze slithers between the bookshelves. There’s a storm coming. It’s been brewing since I did the walk of shame to the student health center this morning.
It only occurred to me when I woke up that Creed hadn’t used protection, and no way am I risking pregnancy.
Thankfully, the nurse was very understanding, and after half an hour, I left with contraceptive pills and Plan B.
I hid in the corner of the cafeteria for the rest of the afternoon, avoiding Abby. But this time, I texted her my whereabouts. I didn’t want a repeat of last night when she put out an APB on me, reaching out to Dash when she couldn’t find me.
Hyde barged into the gym close to eleven at night, tearing my headphones off, his mouth set in a hard line. He’s done that twice again today, checking in on me every couple of hours while I’ve been organizing my class notes, pretending I can’t hear people making bets, or see money changing hands.
The whole campus is buzzing about tonight. Anticipation and excitement fills every nook and cranny.
Dash stopped by, asking if I wanted to watch Creed fight, but after the eighteenth no, he finally got the message.
I’m not willingly getting in his way. I don’t trust myself to keep a level head around him. He makes me forget everything I promised myself, and that’s not safe.
I rush through the library, spitting my hair out when another gust of wind whips a few stray locks into my mouth.
A few students are here, apparently not interested in watching men throwing fists in the derelict theatre basement.
Most sit at the long communal table, hunched over chunky tomes or laptops, earbuds in.
I move past them, drifting toward the back. I prefer the dimly lit reading nooks there, tucked between shelves. With velvet armchairs and loveseats, it feels like I’m in a private library.
Noah’s there, jacket draped over the loveseat, no chessboard in sight. Instead, he’s got his feet on the table, a book in hand.
Ever since he found me here, he’s been showing up at random. I spend most of my time in the library, even though I’m neither a bookworm nor an academic overachiever. I like the quiet, and I don’t have much choice while my room’s occupied.
Noah looks up when I drop my bag by the loveseat, acutely aware of his proximity. He always sits in the armchair opposite, a chessboard between us, so the sudden change in seating arrangements takes me by surprise.
Not to mention that I expected him to be in Creed’s corner, handing out Gatorade, towels, or whatever.
“Hey,” I whisper. “What are you doing here?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Waiting for you.”
“But... it’s fight night. Shouldn’t you be there?”
“I will be.” He glances at his wristwatch. “Creed’s up last. Though if Hyde gets his way, he won’t fight at all. If he does, it’ll be another couple of hours, so I’ve got time.”
I fold myself into the space beside him. “Why doesn’t Hyde want Creed to fight?”
“You don’t know? Creed went out last night, started a fight in his favorite bar and ended up spending the night at the hospital with a concussion.”
“What? Why did he—?”
“It’s what he does, Millie. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy, but he’s fucking reckless.”
That he is... and so am I. Or was, at least. I can’t be that reckless again. Abby’s reaction proved that much.
Creed is unpredictable and angry.
Noah is calm and thoughtful.
They’re both hard to read, but Noah’s unreadable in a way that feels safe. He plays chess, reads beside me, thinks before he speaks, and he likes me. I mean, he wouldn’t be here, spending time with me almost every evening if he wasn’t at least a little interested, would he?
He’s intense, but calm, always so calm, always composed. He’s kind, handsome, and knows when to give me space. He’s the kind of man I’m supposed to want.
“How are you doing?” he asks. “Hyde told me about Jasper. Has he been around?”
“No. I think Abby’s done with him. She’s been clinging to some sophomore guy all day.”
Noah scrunches his brows, a shadow falling over his face, but he marshals it quickly. “Another fuck-fest in your room?”
A small blush heats my cheeks at the memory of the last fuck-fest, and Noah’s... help.
“I’m expecting the umbrella tonight,” I admit. “I really don’t get why it’s always our room.”
He angles his body my way, his muscular chest shifting, the fabric of his tight-fitting pullover stretching over the taut muscles.
“Think about it, Millie,” he says, draping one arm over the backrest, his fingers inches from my neck. “It’s obvious why they fuck in your room.”
Heat blooms low in my belly. It’s nice. Not hot, but warm and safe enough to stir something deeper. Maybe if I keep choosing this mild heat, it’ll start to feel right.
Maybe it’ll heal me in the right way.
I get more comfortable, tucking my legs under my butt, my knee brushing his thigh in the process. His eyes darken a touch, and my mouth goes dry.
My body’s reacting. Not in the all-consuming, violent, hungry way it did with Creed, but reacting nonetheless.
“Enlighten me.”
He smirks like he knows what I’m doing. “If it’s his room, he can’t leave once he’s done.”
“So,” I whisper, meeting his dark eyes. “Her room means once and his room means more?”
“Usually,” he agrees, his gaze falling to my lips.
More heat blooms behind my ribs at the picture he’s painting with his words. My mind dives right into the gutter, recalling Abby’s threesome, but a second later, it’s not my roommate with Jasper and Mateo but me... with Noah and—
Just Noah.
“Oh, okay,” I say. “I’ll know how to spot the wrong ones then. I mean, if I decide to give the full college experience a try.”
Noah shifts, the arm draped over the backrest reaching further. His eyes stay on mine, but his brow lifts slightly.
“Which option would you prefer, Millie?”
My cheeks flame, the treacherous blush rushing down my neck and burning my cleavage.
“Your room, I guess,” I blurt out, regretting the bout of honesty as soon as the words roll off my tongue. “I mean, his room—I don’t know,” I mutter, nervously toying with my braid.
Noah studies me for a long, tense moment. “You’re braver than you were last time we talked about sex.”
“Abby’s frivolity’s rubbing off on me.”
His fingers brush against the base of my neck, leaving goosebumps. I’m locked in place, my breath hitching.
“Do you want me to stop touching you?” he whispers, his tone loaded, laced with desire.
He grazes the back of my neck again, soft and slow, as if testing whether I’ll change my mind and inch away. I don’t, but this isn’t enough. His touch is too careful.
I should like that... but all I can think about is Creed’s touch. It was so much different. He didn’t act like I was breakable.
My mind pushes the image of Abby’s tearful eyes in the bathroom to the front as if laying down evidence for my faulty train of thought.
She’s looked at me differently since then, like there’s something wrong with me and she’s not sure she’s safe.
It’s driving me insane because it reiterates the point I keep avoiding: Creed’s not good for me.
Too bad I haven’t stopped thinking about him and the way he makes me feel whole and strong and normal for one goddamn second.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” Noah asks, toying with the baby hairs at the nape of my neck.
“I’m wondering why you’re spending time with me.”
“Are you now?” He runs his knuckles over my jawline. “I think you know why.”
I shift, my mind skipping ahead, imagining what I’d be like with Noah. He wouldn’t take the way Creed did. He never snaps at me, never demands anything, he lets me be, follows my pace, doesn’t push or prod.
That’s healthy, I think. Safe and normal.
I should want normal.
He holds my gaze, the atmosphere between us swelling into something heavier, more intimate, even though nothing but intention has changed.
The air’s charged, humming with unspoken desires.
Anticipation tingles across my skin, the heat in my abdomen dropping lower, pooling between my legs and lashing down my thighs.
I inch closer but stop, my brother’s words echoing through my head.
“She’s my sister. Off limits.”
Funny... I didn’t think about that when I lunged at Creed. Is that why he was so mad? Because he didn’t think about it either? It’d make more sense than him fuming just because I didn’t tell him I was a virgin.
“What about Hyde?” I whisper, eyes jumping between Noah’s. “I don’t want him to be mad at you and he said—”
“I don’t care, Millie.”
His gaze drops to my lips, and I move on instinct, the polite tension snapping. He grabs my waist and there’s nothing careful about his hands on me...
Nothing rough, either.
He makes his hold known but doesn’t sink his fingers into my skin hard enough to leave bruises. My legs straddle his thighs, his fingers grasping my hips, one arm wrapping around me, and my heart skips a beat.
He stops at that, looking up at me and waiting. I brace my hands on his shoulders, my fingers hidden inside my hoodie sleeves, our lips a breath away.
I kiss him.
We both exhale shakily, and Noah takes the lead, his tongue slipping into my mouth, one hand cradling the back of my head.
“I’ve wanted this since I first saw you, beautiful,” he says against my lips. “It’ll be worth your brother’s anger.”
His lips are soft, but the way he moves isn’t shy. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and it feels good, but nothing more than that. I shudder in his lap, making him smile.
He kisses like he knows what he’s doing. Like he’s planned this and waited to show me what it’s like to be wanted by someone who thinks before he acts.
“You taste like rain,” he breathes, deepening the kiss.
His teeth scrape my bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth. I wait for a bite that doesn’t come. Still, the heat building inside me flares hotter. My hands move to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric.
“Tell me what you need,” he says, his voice barely audible. “Whatever it is... I’ll give it to you.”
He’s different from Creed.
There’s no urgency in his touch, just controlled desire. He tastes like coffee, mint, and a hint of chocolate. He’s warm, smells edible, and I love how he steers my face, deepening the kiss, pulling me closer. I feel him growing hard beneath me.
As if summoned by what might be about to happen, Creed hijacks my head.
The lust in every one of his kisses and touches comes back to haunt me.
The desperation of his body moving against mine like he needed me as much as I needed him.
Like he could exile his demons if he held on to me hard enough.
Like he could punish and worship at the same time.
With Creed, I’m alive.
With Noah, I’m breathing.
Creed made me feel powerful. Noah makes me feel safe.
.. safe to fall apart because he’ll pick up the pieces and keep them close.
That’s not what I want. I want to be ripped apart and put back together better.
I want new pieces, new sensations, and permission to exist without wondering if I’m too much.
I break the kiss, resting my forehead against his, eyes closed, my breaths coming out in soft bursts, not breathless pants.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, hating myself for keeping this door open, though I suspect I’ll never walk through it. “Can we slow down a little?”
“Yeah, of course.” He brushes my hair over my ears, cradling my face with both hands. “No rush, beautiful. I’m here. I’ll wait until you figure out what you need.”
I pinch my lips, staring into his dark eyes. “Thank you.”
He moves his hands away when I start shifting, and I climb off his lap, a sense of loss writhing inside me. Why can’t this be enough? Noah wants me. He doesn’t demand or push, doesn’t leave bruises and... doesn’t make me feel invincible.
He rises to his feet, brushing invisible lint off his hoodie, and behind him, a shadow flickers briefly across the end of the aisle, someone passing between the shelves.
“I should check on your brother and Creed,” Noah says.
My abdomen flutters at his name.
“Come on,” Noah adds, “I’ll walk you back.”
I shake my head, offering a small smile. “I’ll stay.”
He hesitates, studying me, but doesn’t argue. “Okay. Goodnight, Millie.”
“Goodnight, Noah.”
He turns and disappears between the tall shelves, his footsteps fading into silence.
I settle into the velvet loveseat, curling my knees close to my chest. I could stay here forever and still not figure out why the safe choice doesn’t feel right.