24. Noah
24
Noah
T he game has barely finished when I race back to the locker room, whipping my helmet off and throwing it down into my pile of shit. I tear off my uniform before having the quickest shower known to man. I’m just stepping out to get dressed when the rest of the team pours in through the doors, booming about our epic win, but honestly, I’m not feeling the celebration tonight.
I haven’t been on a team that’s lost a game since middle school, and we only lost because most of us had been severely hit with a bout of food poisoning and couldn’t run more than ten minutes without almost shitting ourselves. It’s not exactly a night I think fondly of, but Linc never let me live it down. The thought brings a smile to my face.
“Yo,” Liam says, striding over to me, clapping me hard on the back. “Did you see that? We fucking thrashed ’em, bro.”
I don’t bother responding because he’s already gone, talking shit with the next guy he sees as I quickly get dressed and grab my phone, wallet, and keys from my locker. Before Coach Martin can even get in here to give us the after-game talk, I’m already heading for the door.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Lucas Maxwell says at my back, gaining the attention of nearly every fucker in the room.
I glance back, not bothering to slow down. “Got shit to do.”
“Wait,” Liam says, looking at me as though I just grew a second dick right in the center of my forehead. “You’re bailing? What gives? We just won the first game of the season. Don’t you want to celebrate? We’re throwing a party at Landry’s place.”
I shake my head. “Like I said, I’ve got shit to do.”
Liam grunts. “This doesn’t have anything to do with that bitch . . . What’s her name?” he questions, clicking his fingers as he tries to figure it out. “Ummm. Zoey. We all saw you skipping out on the halftime game prep to talk to her, man. Trust me, she’s not worth it. Landry’s been trying to score with that for months. She’s a frigid bitch. I thought I told you that.”
My jaw clenches, and as I meet his stare, he backs up a step, knowing damn well he just crossed a line. I don’t even need to tell him to keep Zoey’s name out of his fucking mouth. He just knows. “It’s got nothing to do with Zoey,” I grunt, my hands balling into fists at my side. “It’s about—You know, it’s none of your fucking business.”
“Alright, whatever,” he says, throwing his hands up in surrender, knowing when to back down before he gets his ass handed to him. “Just hit me up when you’re done doing whatever it is you gotta do. We’ll have a few shots. Maybe get a little fucked up and take some girls to bed.”
Yeah. Unlikely.
I give him a nod, knowing damn well he’s not going to stop until I’ve given him some indication that he gets to be my special little guy, which is one of the many problems with having to move schools so often. Everyone wants to be my best friend, everyone wants my attention, and most of the time, not a single one of them can take a hint.
Finally having no one at my back, I race out the door and to the parking lot before throwing myself into the driver’s seat of my car and tossing my shit on the seat next to me. I could hardly focus on the second half of the game after seeing the accusation in Zoey’s eyes.
She didn’t blame me. I know her too well to know that she was just trying to let off steam. She was angry, and rightfully so. Hazel was hurt because of the bullshit I allowed to happen, but what it comes down to is that Zoey was right. I unintentionally painted a target on Hazel’s back. I should have known better than to give her a jersey with my name on it, especially considering how hard the cheerleaders have been going for Zoey’s throat just for being seen with me.
I have to know that Hazel is okay and make things right with her, but on top of that, I need to know that Zoey doesn’t hate me for this. She can take a lot of shit when it’s between just me and her, but where her little sister is concerned, she’s not taking any chances.
When I saw her up in those stands with the widest smile on her face as she looked down at me, cheering for me like she used to . . . fuck. Her eyes were so full of happiness that it almost brought me to my knees.
Hitting the gas, I peel out of the still-packed parking lot, and floor it all the way to Zoey’s place. Only unlike last time when I barged my way through here, I head straight for the door and knock like a normal human being.
I wait only a second before Henry answers the door, and it seems our little family dinner earlier in the week did nothing to lessen his apprehension about me. “Not tonight, Noah,” he mutters, pressing his lips into a hard line. “Whatever you did has put her in a mood. She doesn’t want to see you.”
I ignore the way his comments sting but refuse to walk away. “I’m not here for her. I wanted to check on Hazel, make sure she’s okay.”
He studies me for a moment, watching me closely as if trying to work out what kind of angle I’m working, but he won’t find one, not tonight. The moment seems to drag on forever when he finally steps aside and waves me in. “She’s in her room.”
Thank fuck.
Walking in, I turn directly to the right and make my way straight up the stairs, my whole body twitching as I pass Zoey’s room, knowing the other half of my soul is right on the other side of that door. I try to respect her privacy. Her dad said she didn’t want to deal with me, so be it.
Music blasts from her room, and I hear her singing something about it being a cruel summer before screaming at the top of her lungs about some dude looking up grinning like a devil. It takes everything within me to keep walking down the hall, and when I reach Hazel’s door, I lean against the frame, much like I had after our disastrous dinner.
Hazel is curled up on her bed, scrolling on her phone, and she notices me almost immediately. “I was wondering when your big head was going to show up in my doorway,” she mutters, but the insult doesn’t land as her bottom lip juts out.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Hazel refuses to look up, and even without seeing her eyes, I feel the sadness radiating off her, and I can only imagine what kind of nasty bullshit she had to endure. “Are you going to be mad at me?”
“What?” I grunt, pushing off the door frame and striding into her room, bypassing her desk chair piled high with clothes and taking a seat on the end of her bed. “Why the hell would I be mad?”
“Well . . . When the cheerleader was saying those mean things,” she says with a cringe before finally glancing up and meeting my stare. “I lied about you to make her scared.”
My brows furrow, wondering what the hell she could have possibly lied about and hoping that whatever it is doesn’t somehow affect Zoey when she’s at school. “Out with it, kid. What did you say?”
Hazel winces and drops her gaze again. “Well, she called me a desperate whore and a slut because I was wearing your jersey, and so I told her I was your little sister and maybe implied that you were going to be really mad when you found out what she said to me.”
My blood boils beneath the surface, knowing damn well that when I cornered Shannan against the boards of the grandstand, I wasn’t nearly vile enough, but I keep my expression calm and offer Hazel a small smile. “Okay, but where’s the lie in that?”
Her gaze snaps right back to mine, her eyes widening as the sadness seems to evaporate. “I told her you were my brother,” she confirms, just in case I somehow missed that part.
I hold her stare, a challenge in my tone. “Aren’t I?”
She bounds up onto her knees, excitement brimming in her eyes—eyes that are so much like her sister’s. “Really? I mean, like I’ve always thought so. Both you and Linc. But then . . . you know, and we didn’t see you for a really long time, but I thought just because you were mad at Zoey, that maybe you weren’t mad at me. And like . . . ewwwww,” she pauses, horror stretching across her face. “You have the hots for your sister.”
“What?”
“Zoey! I know you’re totally crushing on her. It’s so obvious. Me, Mom, and your mom talk about it all the time. We have bets on when you’ll finally figure out that you can’t live without each other. But like, just so you know, you can’t say that you’re a brother to me and also want to put your tongue down my sister’s throat. Isn’t that like . . . incest?”
“I, uh . . . I don’t even know how to respond to that,” I say, my face scrunched as I try to dig myself out of this hole. “But look, you and me, brother and sister. Me and Zoey . . . definitely not brother and sister.”
A slow grin spreads across her face, and when she meets my eyes, I know exactly what’s about to fly out of her mouth. “Is it because you’re in luuuuurrrrvvvveeeee with her?”
I grab one of the stuffed bears off the end of her bed and launch it at her, unable to wipe the smile off my face. “I am not having this conversation with you.”
“Ewwwwww,” she laughs, throwing herself off her bed just so she has more space to point while she’s laughing. “You want to kiss her.” She makes a fake gagging sound, pretending to shove her fingers down her throat. “Smooch her and do all icky things with her.”
“Dare I ask what icky things you think I want to do with her?”
Her whole face turns bright red as though she’s about to burst from the seams. “You want to touch her boobies.”
Ahhhh, fuck. I just had to go and ask.
I shake my head, springing to my feet, more than ready to hightail it out of here. “Okay,” I say, needing to get the image out of my head. “I take it you’re not upset anymore?”
“Oh, no,” she says. “I haven’t been upset since after my chocolate sundae. I heard you coming up the stairs and faked it. Zoey tried to teach me how to fake cry on the way home and said something about getting you right where it hurts. But I couldn’t make the tears come, not even after pinching myself.”
“She said that, did she?”
“Uh-huh.”
I can’t help but laugh as I make my way back to her door, only she calls out to me, forcing me to a stop. “Noah?”
I pause in her doorway and glance back. “What’s up?”
“I’m really glad you’re not mad at us anymore.”
I give her a tight smile and let out a heavy breath, feeling the weight of her words slamming right against my chest, threatening to bury me right here where I stand. “I was never mad at you, Hazel. At any of you. I never could be. I was just . . . mad at myself.”
Her brows furrow, clearly not liking that. “Sooooo . . . Now that you’re back, does that mean you’re all good now? You and Zoey can go back to how it used to be?”
“Honestly, Hazel,” I say, really having to think about it. “I don’t know. I think there’s some shit that needs to be figured out before that could even be considered.”
She gives me a sad smile, and as she drops back down on her bed, I walk out of her room, giving her some peace and quiet to get back to doing whatever the hell she was doing before I barged in here.
As I make my way back down the hall, I find myself pausing in front of Zoey’s door, my hand twitching at my side.
Don’t do it, Noah. Keep walking. Don’t be that asshole. Give her space.
Damn it.
I reach for her door.
It swings wide, and I hover in her doorway just like I’d done with Hazel. Only, unlike her sister, Zoey is lost in her music, gently swaying her hips as she stands in her full-length mirror, putting her long hair up.
She spots me almost immediately, her gaze meeting mine through the mirror, the loud music fading around us. Her eyes widen for just a moment before hurt flashes within those green depths. It tears at my chest. I hate that I keep hurting her, whether it’s intentional or not.
Zoey holds my stare through the mirror, her hands falling from her hair, watching as I slowly step into her room and nudge the door closed with my foot.
Just like after the dinner, the room fills with undeniable tension and it’s as though that tether between us is tightening, physically pulling us together.
I take a step, and she shakes her head, not daring to take her eyes off mine through the mirror, but I don’t stop. How could I?
I keep going until I’m standing right behind her with my chest pressed against her back. I see the rapid thrum of her pulse at the base of her neck and notice how her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.
She visibly swallows, and as her hands tremble, I skim my fingers down the length of her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps across her skin until my hand closes around hers. “Noah,” she breathes, her fingers clutching on to mine like a lifeline.
God. This feels so right.
Zoey slowly turns in my arms, and as she stands right before me, I press my fingers to her chin and lift until her sweet gaze is locked on mine. There’s a reluctance in her eyes that kills me, but it’s deserved. I’ve done nothing but hurt her, and in those times when she needed me the most, I wasn’t there.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispers, a crack of pain in her tone. “You should leave.”
I shake my head, both of us knowing that it would be impossible for me to walk away now. “I can’t do that.”
Zoey whimpers as though my admission physically pains her, and all I can do is curl my arm around her waist, holding her to me as though that could somehow dull the ache I’ve put in her heart. She braces one hand against my chest, and just when I expect her to push me away, her fingers bunch into the fabric of my shirt.
Zoey tugs me closer, and I can’t wait a second longer, dipping my head and closing the gap between us. My lips press against hers, and I feel her body weaken in my hold, melting against me as though she needs this just as much as I do.
A soft moan slips from between her lips as they move against mine, and when her other hand slips around the back of my neck, she deepens our kiss, taking exactly what she needs from me. Her tongue moves against mine, our lips perfectly in sync. It’s nothing like the hungry, desperate kiss from Monday night. This one is different. This one holds nothing but pure pain between us as we try to navigate our way around it, desperately clawing to find our way back to each other.
My fingers tighten on her waist, and as if having a bucket of ice water tipped over her head, Zoey stiffens in my arms. She pulls away and violently shoves against my chest, forcing me back a step as she stares at me in horror, her fingers pressed against her swollen lips.
Her chest heaves as my brows furrow, confusion sweeping through me. “What’s wrong?” I question, inching toward her. Did I hurt her? Push her too far?
“No,” she says, holding up a hand and halting my progression, fury flashing in her eyes. “Not like this.”
“Like what?”
She scoffs, and I watch as she tries to figure out the overwhelming emotions coursing through her body. “After everything,” she breathes, the fury morphing into sadness. “After all the hurt you caused over the past three years, you think you get to just walk in here and kiss me as though I still belong to you? You can’t keep doing this to me. You either want me or you don’t, but you can’t have both.”
“Zo,” I say, trying to step toward her again, only she holds up her hand to deny me.
“The next time you kiss me,” she says, her hands shaking again. “It better be because you’re mine and I’m yours.”
I stare at her, horror blasting through me at the idea of her pushing me away. “I’ve always been yours, Zoey.”
“No, you haven’t been mine in a long time. You’re barely a figment of my imagination.” I see the exact moment her heart falls out of her chest and shatters on the ground between us. “I want something real with you, not this almost there bullshit. I’m not doing this sneaking around thing where you get to push me away and then have me when it’s convenient. You’re either all in or all out.”
“Zo—”
“Don’t,” she tells me, pulling out of my reach, tears spilling from her eyes and tormenting my already shattered soul. “I don’t want to hear how you can’t, how you’re hurting and drowning in a sea of guilt and darkness, because I am too . I’ve been hurting since the day Linc died, and I needed you. You were the one person who could have eased that ache inside me, and you weren’t there. You made me suffer alone, Noah. You broke me, and now you want to waltz back into my life, thinking you can slide right back into place. That’s not how this works.”
She pauses, tears pouring from her eyes as she holds my stare, unaware of just how deeply I’m crumbling inside. “I want you to come back to me, Noah. I want it more than anything, but only when you’re ready to really let me in.”
Unable to keep the distance, I step into her, pulling her straight back into my arms as she buries her face against my chest. I hold her there, my hand knotted into her hair as she falls apart. “I promise, Zozo,” I whisper, closing my eyes as the agony claims me. “I want to give you everything you deserve, and I have a lot to make up for. I know you feel like I’m not yours anymore, and that’s on me, but you have to know that I’ve never stopped belonging to you. It’s always been you, Zo.”
“It hurts,” she whispers against my chest.
I hold her tighter, my hand roaming up and down her back. “Give me your pain, Zo,” I murmur, hating myself for everything I’ve put her through and vowing that I will never make her feel this way again. “Let me take it away.”