32. So Much Canoodling
THIRTY-TWO
SO MUCH CANOODLING
? I Wanna Dance With Somebody - Whitney Houston
NOAH
Clio’s hype girl playlist blares through the apartment, rousing me from sleep. For a second, I forget where I am, convinced I imagined the events of the night before, but when I open my eyes, I’m assaulted by a kaleidoscope of bright colors, and I realize it wasn’t a dream.
I lie there for a while, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the regret to sink in. It never comes. Every promise I made, every whispered word uttered in the heat of the moment—I meant them all. There’s nothing casual about this anymore.
A sense of urgency comes over me, and I throw back the covers.
When I reach the kitchen, Clio’s standing there in my oversized T-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, singing “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” into the flat end of a spatula and swaying her hips to the beat.
She has a large griddle set out with six perfect pancakes sizzling on the surface, infusing the air with their rich aroma.
A warm smile curves across her face when she sees me, but my presence doesn’t deter her. I lean my elbows on the kitchen island, content to sit back and watch the show. She saunters across the room and holds out the makeshift microphone, staring at me intently.
“I don’t know the words,” I shout above the music.
“Liar.” She shimmies her shoulders and crooks a finger in my direction.
When the chorus hits, I snatch the spatula out of her hand and wrap my other arm around her waist, rocking us from side to side with my leg trapped between hers as we sing at the top of our lungs.
All of my inhibitions seem to melt away.
Maybe there’s something to this hype girl playlist, or maybe it’s Clio and her infectious joy.
She shoves me away to flip the pancakes before they burn. Loathing the distance, I wrap my arms around her from behind instead. Swaying us more while she works, I press a kiss to the bare expanse of her neck.
The apartment door swings open and Auggie runs at us at full speed. I lift him into my arms and dance with him on one hip. Lexi takes a slower approach, shimmying her way into the kitchen, hip-checking Clio when she finally reaches us.
Auggie makes grabby hands at Clio, and I have no choice but to let him go. She twirls them in a circle. Though I can’t hear their laughter over the music, it rings out in my head anyway. She’s captivating, and I’m drowning on dry land.
The song ends, shifting into a stripped-down version of “Wonderwall.” I want to wrap her up and have a replay of the festival where I actually kiss her this time, but I’m not sure I could stop at just a kiss, and I can’t do more with the kids around.
Clio sets Auggie on one of the stools and picks up her phone, lowering the volume on the Bluetooth speaker.
“Who wants pancakes?” Clio asks.
I lean back against the adjacent counter and wait for Auggie to ask for chicken nuggets instead. To my surprise, his arm shoots up like he’s in school. “Me!”
Lexi slides onto the stool next to him. “Me too.”
I take the spatula from Clio and discreetly swat her butt. “Go. I’ll take care of breakfast.”
“I can handle it.”
“I know you can,” I whisper against her ear. “But you’re going to let me take care of you and the kids this time, and then you can take care of me later.”
She shivers. “Noah.”
“Go sit down, baby.”
I plate up four servings of pancakes, making sure to cut Auggie’s up into squares just the way he likes it, then I set a cup of coffee in front of Clio, made just the way she likes it, along with her daily dose of meds.
The whole scene is so domestic I can hardly believe it’s real. This is everything I never wanted, and now I never want to let it go.
Lexi’s phone vibrates against the counter, the screen lighting up with a photo of her and Hayden kissing on stage. A strange, almost protective feeling comes over me as she types out a reply to his text.
“Can I take the car after breakfast?” Lexi asks. “Hayden wants to meet up so we can exchange Christmas presents.”
I set my plate down on the counter and pick up my coffee. “Where are you meeting? Somewhere public?”
Clio cocks her head, her brows drawn together in confusion. She doesn't say a word, but she doesn’t have to. I can read her like a book, and the question on the tip of her tongue is the same one I’m already asking myself. Why the fuck do I care?
“I’m not sure, Dad.” She accentuates the title, and I shudder.
Clio splutters into her coffee, causing it to splash her chin. I tear off a piece of paper towel and hand it to her.
She wipes her chin and faces Lexi. “Be home at six. Aunt Kiki and Jax are bringing the twins to exchange gifts.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Lexi says, staring pointedly at me before she hops off her stool.
She disappears down the hallway, and Clio’s attention shifts back to me. “What was that about?”
I shrug. “Nothing. Just making sure she’s safe.”
Her bottom lip wobbles as she stands and walks around the island, wrapping her arms around my waist.
I return the embrace, resting my chin against the side of her head. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s this for?”
“Because you care.”
“Of course I care.”
Somewhere along the way Lexi became my family, too. The implication of that fact should send me running for the hills, but all is quiet. For better or worse, Clio has become my center—the calm in my storm.
“I’m all done,” Auggie says. “Can I go play now?”
Clio gets him situated in the living room with a coloring book and cartoons while I busy myself cleaning up the mess from breakfast.
“Mom!” Lexi’s voice carries down the hallway a moment later.
“Yeah?” Clio hollers back.
“I need help picking an outfit.”
“Teenager problems,” Clio says. “I’ll be back.”
Ten minutes later, I’m elbow deep in sudsy water when a soft hand presses against my spine. “You didn’t have to clean up.”
“Too late. Already done. Besides, we had a deal, remember?”
She squints, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Refresh my memory.”
I drain the sink and dry my hands off on a dish towel hanging from the drawer. Palming her hips, I walk her backward until her ass hits the side of the counter. “I said I would take care of you and the kids, and later, you’ll take care of me.”
She runs her index finger down my chest, hooking it in the waistband of my sweatpants. “What exactly does that entail?”
Fuck. Do not get hard.
Lexi strides past in a blur of blonde hair and bright colors. “Bye Mom and Dad,” she says, pure amusement dripping from her tone as she grabs her jacket off the hook and waves.
I shake my head as she disappears from view. “She’s so much like you, it’s scary sometimes.”
Clio’s dimple takes center stage, and she scrunches her nose. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
CLIO
I wrap my arms around Noah’s neck, enjoying the newfound freedom to touch and tease now that all of the pesky feelings are out in the open. “So, Noah Weston. What’s it like to have a girlfriend who’s smart, beautiful, and fun?”
His arms tighten around my waist, erasing the remaining distance. “Girlfriend, huh?”
“That’s usually how it works. You catch feelings, pretend you don’t have feelings, finally admit you might have feelings, and then boom. Boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“To be fair, this is all new to me. Are there any other rules I should be aware of?”
“There’s so much canoodling.”
He chuckles. “You are right about one thing. My girlfriend is all of those things and more.” His fingertips toy with a lock of hair near my cheek, and his expression sobers, his words taking on a more serious connotation.
“No more secrets. No more rules. No more pretending. The contract ended the moment I walked back through that door.”
“What do we tell everyone?” I hold up my hand to display the ring I placed there three months ago in a panic and never had the heart to take off. “This is supposed to still be an engagement.”
“What the town doesn't know won’t hurt them. We’re together—the label is irrelevant. And maybe someday I’ll get down on one knee and make that part real, too.”
My heart feels like it might beat right out of my chest, the foolish organ latching onto every word like a solemn vow.
There’s still a little voice in the back of my mind telling me to put on the brakes.
Nobody changes their views on marriage overnight.
We’re both riding the high of a new relationship, and once things settle, he might change his mind again.
I’m not doodling little hearts in a notebook or practicing a new signature for Clio Weston.
I don’t need a ring or even a new last name to know I want to be with him.
My affection isn’t contingent upon future plans.
Whatever awaits us a month, a year, ten years down the line doesn’t matter to me as much as living each moment as it comes.
We aren’t guaranteed tomorrow, but we have right now, and I’d rather live in the now than bank on a future that might never come.