Chapter 15
Fifteen
SUMMER
Noah has the softest lips in human history. Pillowy and perfect.
He’s also my stalker. I’m sure of it now.
He broke into my apartment to clean it and film a thirst trap. His attempt at one, at least. He hid somewhere while I talked to Hazel on the phone, and after he heard my throwaway comment about being on my period, he got me all the supplies I could possibly need.
Maybe he really does remember my tipsy confession from the night we met, despite initially forgetting who I was or what happened that night or his promise to return to clean my bathroom.
I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t really care. In this moment, I don’t care about anything other than tasting him.
I’m kissing him. I’m kissing Noah Sinclair. And my god, it’s better than I ever imagined.
This is our first kiss, and yet he somehow knows exactly how to kiss me. His lips are gentle at first, exploring.
Until they turn voracious. His lips part just a little, enough for him to let out a small groan.
And that unravels me completely.
I push my body flush against his, tighten my arms around his neck. I can’t get close enough. Can’t get enough of him.
When his tongue traces slowly over my bottom lip, my knees go weak.
He picks up the slack, arms around my back pulling me closer, holding me tighter. I can’t help the whimper that turns into a moan.
As soon as my mouth is open, he seizes his chance, sliding his tongue against mine.
Oh my god. Where the hell has this man been my whole life?
Noah doesn’t judge me for wanting a stalker. He doesn’t judge my art. He sends me gifts for my hedgehog. He indulges my hobbies. He kisses like a damn god.
But he’s still my client. And this is incredibly inappropriate.
I yank back, breaking the kiss.
My heart drums. In the silence, we stare at each other, panting and breathless. I wish I could read his mind, but something tells me he’s torn between accepting the end of the kiss and tugging me back to him.
At last, I blurt, “I’m sorry. I know this is a fake relationship. That was unprofessional of me—”
I don’t get a chance to finish the apology before Noah yanks me back.
His mouth is on mine, hot and insistent this time. He doesn’t gently caress my lips with his or ease his tongue in. This time, he devours me.
Teeth catching my bottom lip, sucking, pulling. Tongues tangling, twin moans escaping our throats—
I fist my hands in his shirt. I’m going to drag him into my bedroom. I don’t give a shit if I’m the worst I’ve ever looked in front of him right now. Sweats and messy hair, no makeup, big cotton panties. He doesn’t seem to give a shit either and that somehow makes his mouth on me that much sweeter.
I’m about to break our kiss just long enough to invite him into my bedroom when the blare of a ringtone makes us both jump.
For a second, we’re frozen, stunned. Our hormone-addled brains scramble to decipher what that sound is.
My brain must start working first because I nod to Noah’s pocket. I can’t see the outline of his phone, but I can see the outline of something else. Something that I would very much like to explore more of. “I think someone is calling you.”
Noah scrambles to retrieve his phone, clearing his throat before answering. “Hello?”
His voice cracks a little on the greeting, and I cover my smile.
“We’re late? To what? Oh, right! Yes, I’m heading over there now. Am I bringing Summer?” Hope lifts his features adorably as he turns to me and mouths, Family dinner?
I nod, even though I’d much rather skip eating altogether and go straight to my bed.
“Yep, I’m bringing Summer. We’ll be there soon.” After he ends the call, tension still clings to the air like static. “Do you think we could break the Plus One rules so I can drive us to my parents’ house?”
“That’s fine.” What’s another broken rule?
Nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach. Even though Plus One doesn’t really have a way to monitor what I do with my clients, if anyone reported what I’m doing, I’d no longer be able to offer my services. I’d be without a job and a sufficient income to pay my bills.
Basically, I’d be fucked.
But I can’t help it. Not when it comes to Noah Sinclair.
He takes my hand, and I practically float as I follow him out the door.
I can’t continue being Noah’s fake girlfriend after this. We’ve crossed too many boundaries, and this is going to get really confusing and messy, really fast. Feelings could get hurt, and it’s better to end this now before that happens.
With any luck, he’ll agree to ending the charade so we can officially start something real.
But I’m not sure if I want to reveal that I know about the stalking yet. I’d much rather keep playing oblivious and find out what else he has in store for me.
Though some of his attempts obviously haven’t been successful—hiding behind a menu at the bistro, sending me gifts with his name attached, planting a tracker on my car, watching me through my window—he’s trying so hard.
It’s quite possibly the cutest thing anyone has ever done for me.
So I’ll let him have this and keep playing along.
This is about to get a lot more fun.
In front of the bay window, David shouts observations to no one in particular with giant binoculars glued to his eyes.
Noah and I are seated on opposite sides of the U-shaped sofa with Victoria and Carson arguing between us about whether cold or hot water boils faster.
Victoria insists that hot water is the only logical answer, while Carson doubles down on his hypothesis that cold water boils faster, even after Victoria presents him with multiple online sources that disprove him.
In the middle of the living room, Killian attempts to teach Christine the proper form for bicep curls, and I’m ninety percent sure that she’s feigning ignorance just to make him sweat and sputter.
Aries leans against the wall with his arms crossed, observing all of us but mostly glowering at Carson.
My phone burns a hole in my purse until I can’t help myself. I pull it out and navigate to the texts with my stalker. With Noah.
Summer
Next time you break into my apartment, I want you to blindfold me, tie my ankles and wrists to the bed posts, and lick me from head to toe.
Noah’s phone chimes, and I don’t bother stuffing mine back into my purse. No pockets in this damn dress. Worth it. After the way Noah looked at me when I left my bedroom, I’ll be pulling this out of my closet more often.
He casually checks his screen, and his eyes nearly pop out of his skull, cheeks turning rosy. He’s so damn adorable when he blushes.
I knew it.
I already knew it, but this confirms it for sure. Noah is my stalker.
His glance toward me lasts only for a nanosecond, but I feign ignorance, pretending to enjoy the show his family is putting on even though I’ve tuned all of them out. Pretending I haven’t caught on that he’s my stalker.
He drops his phone back onto his lap without responding. Rude. A woman doesn’t send a text like that and not get a response. I deserve a response, damn it. And I will get one.
Summer
I want you to hide under my bed and listen to me use my vibrator while I moan your name. Then I want you to climb out right before I come and make me finish while you’re inside me.
I keep my phone in front of my face, pretending to casually scroll while Noah hesitantly lifts his phone from his lap.
He bursts into a coughing fit, attempting to cover his mouth with his fist and clutch his screen to his chest so no one can read the dirty text.
Carson frowns and gives Noah a half-hearted pat on the back.
Victoria hisses an exasperated sigh. “You don’t pat someone on the back while they’re coughing.”
“I was trying to help him.” Carson leans back on the sofa, pulling out his phone to go back to ignoring everyone. “What if he was choking?”
“If someone is coughing like that”—she points at Noah—“they’re not choking.”
Aries pushes off the wall to stand behind Noah, who is bent at the waist now. The coughing only seems to be getting worse. Aries points at his friend doubled over. “So don’t pat him on the back?”
Victoria glares at him. “That’s what I said.”
“What about the front?”
“Sweetheart, are you all right?” Christine calls, pitch reedy and worry etched across her face.
I almost feel bad for causing his coughing fit. Almost.
Noah attempts to nod while he waves her off. “Fine,” he wheezes.
A text from Hazel lights up my screen.
Hazel
Did you bone Noah yet?
Summer
I boned his mouth with my mouth. Does that count?
Hazel
Never say it like that again but yes. How was it?? Give me all the details.
Summer
Honestly? It was the best kiss of my life.
Hazel
Damn. This is real shit now, huh?
Now, I’m realizing it might be. I want it to be real, at least.
Hazel
Did you tell him you know about the stalking?
Summer
No. I want to see how long he keeps it up. It’s been fun so far.
Hazel
Love it. I’m living vicariously through you right now. Someday, I too will have a strong, burly man to kidnap me and throw me around.
Summer
He hasn’t kidnapped me.
Hazel
Summer, we’re talking about my fantasy right now.
When Noah finally recovers, I bite the inside of my cheek to suppress my smile. “Everything all right?”
“Yep.” He clears his throat. “Just fine.”
Miraculously, he manages to type back a response. I don’t let my expression change when the notification pops up on my screen.
Unknown
Careful what you wish for. I’ll do all of it. So long and so hard, you won’t be able to walk the next day.
I clutch the phone harder, cheeks warming and I pray he doesn’t notice.
Summer
Can’t wait.
“So what was your big announcement?” Victoria asks her mother.
We finished dinner nearly twenty minutes ago, and by the way she fiddles with the hem of her skirt and the cuffs of her sleeves, she’s itching to leave. Most likely, itching to get away from her insufferable fiancé. Or at least get him somewhere she can argue with him in private.