18. NOAH
Chapter eighteen
Roxanne hisses, pushing up on her toes to get so close I can feel her breath. I know she can hear me inhale sharply and then exhale just as roughly, but she doesn’t move away.
“Shut up for one second,” her voice bursts out so low and urgent. “And I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”
Nothing could’ve prepared me for what that meant. I thought she was going to shove me backward into the cooler, unleash the contents of her stomach all over my shoes, or dump the rest of her beer on my head. So when she throws her can down and presses her lips against mine, my eyes blast from my skull like a fucking Looney Toon, and my breath screeches to a halt halfway down my throat.
I stand there, staring down at her closed lashes while my blood buzzes as the kiss goes on, as I gradually absorb what’s happening.
I don’t fight it, though.
When the wires finally reconnect in my head and spark back to life, I reach my hand out to curl around her waist and tug her closer, leaning down to kiss her back, smearing whatever bonfire-scented sweat is on both of us. I hold her body tight against mine and wrap my arm around her waist, my lips moving in sync with hers in the most steamy act that’s ever happened between us.
It’s unlike any kiss I’ve ever experienced.
Warm. Slow. Dizzying. Catching me so fucking off guard.
My pulse goes supernova.
The universe explodes in my head and mouth as I pull her even closer. Her lips are kind of electrifying, my body sparkling like the stars above us at the feeling of their warm, fullness against mine. At the scent of her in my nose, woodsy and sweet. At the taste of donuts on her mouth.
The kiss itself isn’t even deep. It’s pretty tame. Polite. Too damn polite.
I slide her hair back over her shoulders, resisting the urge to lick my lips and sway forward that tiny inch between my tongue and her pillowy bottom lip. I want to bite.
Instead, I flex my hand and tentatively set it on her hip, bunching up the fabric with my fingers, earning a sweet hum from the girl crushed against me. With Herculean strength, I restrain myself from squeezing the soft skin under my fingers, restrain myself from tearing her up completely.
Is she sensitive there? Is she ticklish? Would she let me move up higher, slip my hand under her shirt?
Something starts cracking, and it takes me a full minute to notice a sharp pinch stinging my palm. The sound cracks again to my right, alerting me to the fact that I’m gripping my beer can so tightly that I’ve bent open the aluminum and stabbed myself, foamy liquid dripping out onto the ground. Not that I even notice the pain, too preoccupied with the looping chant of oh shit, oh shit, oh shit in my head. What the hell is all this for?
The bonfire’s warmth is nothing compared to the feel of her breath in my mouth.
All good things must come to an end, and this particular good thing ends with a sharp wolf-whistle and a chorus of drunken cheers from the peanut gallery.
Roxanne stiffens in my arms as if now realizing what she’s done. Who she’s done it with. In front of half the fucking school, no less. She pulls back fast once my hand comes up to her cheek, breaking our lip-lock. My eyes stay squeezed shut, not quite ready to see what her face looks like. My lips are still chasing after her, my thumb grazing her jawline, itching to trace up further to see if I’d find those dimples that would show her true feelings.
She doesn’t get far from me, which seems like a good sign in itself that she’s not entirely repulsed by what has transpired. Her breath is ragged and warm, and the sweet taste of her strawberry daiquiri-stained mouth lingers on me. I lick my lips slowly, savoring it.
Yeah, brown lipstick is so much fucking better than peachy lip gloss.
“That definitely shut me up,” I whisper, forcing my eyes open to catch her looking all breathless and owl-eyed. She’s staring up at me, cheeks flushed that pretty red that makes my pulse race all over again.
We both stare at each other, suspended, before my mouth curves into a smile and I drop my hand from her cheek.
“Shit,” Roxanne whispers, eyes still wide.
“Shit,” I echo, flexing my stung palm.
“Shit!” Roxanne screeches, beginning to look panicky and tripping over herself as she backs away. “I—I have to go!”
I reach out to soothe her on instinct, grasping for one of her wrists before her hands can fly up and shove me away. “You can’t leave me with that,” I argue, searching her bugged out eyes for answers. “What was that?”
Her face is red-hot and spreading down her neck. “What... what was what?”
“That kiss. That wasn’t my imagination, right?”
She blushes deeply, confirming it was real.
“No,” she chokes out. “That really happened. I did kiss you.”
“You sure did,” I reply, trying to contain my grin. I really want her to do it again. “I’m pretty sure that goes against your whole no touching rule.”
“Yeah, it does go against my no-touching rule.”
She glances around quickly, as if making sure no one else is still watching us. At least I’m not afraid to admit that I enjoyed that kiss, but I’m dying to know what made her break her rule for me.
“Are you going to tell me why you did it?”
“I don’t know. I—I—I don’t know why I did that,” she stammers adorably, kicking some grass with her heel until her toes dig into the dirt. “Can we not talk about it and maybe forget that it ever happened?”
“Why? I know your boyfriend is boring and lame, but does he really deserve that?”
Not that I really gave a shit. But I don’t feel like being someone’s use again.
She winces and lifts her head, her face getting redder by the minute. There’s some internal struggle behind those tiny sunbursts, clouded by more shadows as she fiddles with her necklace, twisting her lips around and chewing on her cheek.
After a heavy silence, she sighs and lifts her eyes skyward. “To be honest, I did that because I’m really upset and pissed off right now. I saw Harley over there, kissing—” she gestures vaguely behind me before adding hastily, “but please don’t turn around and look!”
Her voice gets more shaky as she continues. “They were basically humping each other against a tree, and it... I couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry.” She meets my eyes again, looking embarrassed and a little bit broken. “He was about to look over here, and I guess I either didn’t want him to see me, or I wanted him to see that I was over him and didn’t give a shit.”
“You and Greg broke up?” I feel a little peeved I hadn’t already known. No wonder she’s been in such a rough mood.
“Two days ago.”
I step back, my eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, shit.”
My mind races at the best of times, and now it’s feeding me a hundred different responses. I want to know more, to know everything. I want to comfort her and jump for fucking joy and stifle the hungry, greedy thing inside my chest.
What a goddamn bastard.
“Yeah. Do you think you could pretend it didn’t happen?”
“That fucker.” I make myself nod slowly, offering her a smile. “I’m sorry you had to see that. We should torch his car.”
She shakes her head, smiling but still looking away angrily. “I feel a little stupid right now. And to find out he’s probably been hooking up with Riley this whole time?”
“Wait, what? He’s been sleeping with Riley?” My eyes flicker between rage and hurt at the revelation. “How can he do that to you?”
“I don’t know... because I’m an idiot?” She shrugs like it’s old news. “Because I wasn’t good enough for him and he’d rather be with someone else?”
“Don’t get down on yourself like that. You are absolutely not an idiot.” I haven’t let go of her wrist, so I squeeze it. “Harley is the stupid one and that’s his problem, not yours.”
“I...” she trails off, deflating like a balloon. “God, I’m such a mess.”
“Nah. You’re just human.” Stupidly, I tuck a strand of hair behind the shell of her ear. “You’re allowed to feel things. Even the shitty things. But he isn’t even worth the tears. He doesn’t deserve them.”
Her returning smile is grateful. Beautiful. Fucking heartbreaking.
“Thanks... really.”
“Anytime, Roxanne.”
And I mean it. Even if it means she needs me to wipe my memory of the feeling of her, the taste of her still in my mouth, and the smell of her on my upper lip. That’s what friends do, and that’s what we are whether she likes it or not. Friends.
“ONE MINUTE!”
We both back up, remembering the loud party happening around us, and maybe because we’re both a little drunk off our asses at the moment that standing an inch from each other feels weird.
I contemplate making a joke, but end up dropping the beer can and rubbing the back of my neck, wondering how to steer the topic. Roxanne twists a strand of her hair and beats me to the punch.
“About the kiss… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped you like that. I was acting on impulse and emotion, and I hope I didn’t freak you out or anything, because I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed about something in my life.”
“Embarrassed by what? I wasn’t exactly fighting you off.” I throw my hand up, releasing her. Roxanne chuckles and rubs at her wrist. “Wasn’t too bad, Wishmore. Consider it my winner’s choice.”
“I guess I can let you have that, yeah. You earned it.” We both laugh quietly, and after a beat, her voice hitches up higher and she starts to stumble backward, saying, “Right... I’m gonna leave now and go rinse my mouth out.”
“Wait.” I reach for her wrist again, pulling her back toward me. “I can drive you home, unless you plan on walking all the way there alone in the middle of the night.”
She arches a brow, giving me a look like I’m the dumbest motherfucker on the planet. “Yeah, right. You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna get on the back of your bike after you’ve been drinking.”
“Fair point. Then at least let me walk you, hand in hand through the moonlight.”
She rolls her eyes, back to that Wishmore behavior. “No way. I’ll ask Angela for a ride. We’ve both been drinking. She’s sober. You stay and have fun, or whatever it is you do at these things.”
I’m reluctant to let her leave, my thumb still stroking her soft skin. “Not even a goodnight kiss? Do I at least get a big bear hug?”
“Goodnight, Noah,” she huffs, shoving at my chest before slipping out of my grasp like an eel.
She rushes over to Angela, who’s propping up a very drunk Trinity against her side. They exchange words, and Roxanne glances back at me before they disappear into the woods, leaving me standing here with my lips still tingling from that kiss.
I can’t believe she actually kissed me.
I can’t believe how much I enjoyed it.
My fingers touch my mouth, a stupid grin spreading across my face. I look like a total dweeb not yet moving, but my muscles refuse to move over the fact that I’ve kissed plenty of girls before, and none of them made me feel the way she did with such a simple press. There wasn’t any tongue, no wandering hands. Nothing but lips.
It keeps replaying over and over in my head. The way she tasted like sugared strawberries, how good her body felt pressed against mine... I need to experience all of that again.
Fuck, she has a boyfriend . Or well, an ex-boyfriend now. Fucking Harley, what a scumbag. The pain in her eyes was as clear as glass. How could he hurt her like that? She’s an enigma and deserves much better than that asshole.
It’s tempting to march right over to Harley and punch him in his stupid, pompous face. Except I know that won’t really help matters, and Roxanne will only get mad at me for making things worse. Even as satisfying as it would feel to lose my punching virginity to him, it wouldn’t change anything or take away her pain.
I’ll save that moment for someone else.
Clearing my head, I drag a hand through my hair and peek towards the trees behind me. My mood sours seeing the wet blanket that is apparently Harley sucking tongues with the redhead. So that’s the guy she’s been wasting her time on?
Is that what happened when the band fell out? Did Riley steal him? Not to be a dick, but he doesn’t look like much of a prize to me.
I study the guy as they suck face. He looks to be average height, with a slim, unimpressive build. His face is profoundly annoying—all big doe eyes and thin, pinched lips. Framing the annoying face is a huge amount of hair, so much feathered and teased dirty blonde that I wonder how his scrawny neck supports it. Even in the firelight, I can see the glossy sheen from a shit ton of hairspray.
I meet Harley’s scowl with a greasy smile of my own as the girl attacks his mouth. Let him glare. I wasn’t the one swapping spit with girls behind my girlfriend’s back.
I wiggle my fingers at him when we lock eyes over Riley’s shoulder, wanting him to know I see exactly what he’s doing. He narrows his and wrenches his attention back to the redhead.
I shove my hands into my jacket pockets. This guy is even more of a joke than I realized.
“Who was that?” Hayden’s voice slides up next to me, offering a fresh beer.
I glance at him as I take it. “Who was what?” I ask flatly before taking a swig. The bitter liquid washes away the lingering sweetness of Roxanne’s lips.
“That chick you were with over here,” he clarifies. “Looked like you two were getting pretty hot and heavy.”
I shrug, going for casualness despite the very vivid memory of her body pressed to mine. “No one, really.”
Those words are the opposite of how Roxanne feels to me now, and I feel like a shithead for minimizing what’s between us like that, but it’s for the best. I don’t need Hayden getting curious and trying to sink his claws into her.
He raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Oh, really?”
“Really,” I say firmly, taking another swig of beer.
“Looked like a bit more than that from the spit you guys were swapping and now you’re looking wistfully up at the trees.” He leans into me, and I want to crack a joke about how he should join in next time if he’s going to stare so hard.
But I don’t feel like pissing off Hayden—even though pissing that asswipe off might do the world some good—in the interest of keeping the peace at the party. And besides…
It feels wrong to talk about Roxanne like she’s some other girl.
“We were messing around. You know how it is,” I shrug, which is just as true.
He smirks like he knows better. “If you say so, man. Didn’t seem like messing around to me, the way you were looking at her.” Hayden leans in, the smell of weed sharp on his breath. “Come on, level with me. Who is she really? Gotta be someone special to get Noah Jackson actually caught up over a kiss.”
I laugh. If only he knew how right he was.
“Believe what you want, but it doesn’t mean anything,” I lie through my teeth, crushing the empty can in my fist. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a refill.”
I walk away before he can interrogate me further, eager to end this conversation. I just want another beer so I can at least try to forget about the sound she made when I touched her. I don’t think I can ever forget about it.
And I hope neither can Harley.