Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Eva
When no one says anything for a minute, which seems more like an hour, I decide to break up the silence with some introductions.
“Noah, this is Gwen. She’s visiting from SoCal and staying with me for a few days.
” I have to admit, it falls on deaf ears as neither one of them seems to acknowledge me.
“Gwen, this is Noah.” Her harsh expression deepens as she continues to glare at the man in front of her.
“Noah and I actually met last week, when I was down south.” Still nothing.
“You met him, too.” Curious, she finally glances my way and then looks back disapprovingly on Noah.
Nervous and slightly annoyed, Noah shifts his weight on his feet and adjusts his ball cap. I know the woman in front of me well, however, he isn’t used to her and the way she conducts herself. I’m not sure if he can handle her overpowering ways, but I guess I am about to find out.
“I guess I should be going,” Noah mumbles. I can’t blame him. I don’t want to be standing here any more than he does.
Gwen walks past us to the far corner of the room and drops her suitcase on the floor, which gives us a little privacy so we can say goodbye.
Noah grabs my hand and squeezes it tight.
I let myself lean into him, not wanting to let him go just yet.
I try my hardest to ignore Gwen’s presence on the opposite side of the room as he quietly says, “I’ll call you later, OK? ”
I nod. He leans in and brushes his lips softly against my cheek.
I grab his belt and tug him into me slightly.
Glancing over his shoulder, I see Gwen is still preoccupied.
I run my palm down the front of his jeans.
Cupping his semi-hard length in my hand, I massage up and down, teasing him, and it thickens.
“God, darlin’, you know just how to drive a man crazy,” he growls in my ear before backing away, clearing his throat, and slowly walking to the door.
Gwen makes her way back over to us, and pauses briefly in front of Noah. Extending his hand, he says, “It’s nice to meet you, Gwen.”
She takes it, shaking it slowly, continuing to size him up while staring him down.
“We’ve met, remember?” She responds coldly as if she’s questioning the validity of it herself. “Will I be seeing more of you while I am here?”
Glancing back my way, Noah looks apprehensive.
I can tell he doesn’t want to assume anything, but also doesn’t want to answer wrong either.
Maybe he won’t answer. Maybe he’ll try and play it safe and change the subject.
What’s going on between us, as thrilling and breathtaking as it is, is also new.
Even I don’t know exactly what to make of it yet.
“I sure hope I’ll be around more often,” he grins, and my heart instantly begins to dream of a future for the two of us.
Hope, in the beginning of anything, is addictive and perhaps the one thing that keeps you coming back for more.
“Mhm,” Gwen responds. She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.
“Well,” he says, nervously, “It’s nice to see you again, Gwen. We’ll talk later, Eva.”
And with that he leaves quickly, closing the door behind him.
Still delirious and in a euphoric state of mind, it takes me a moment to reorganize my thoughts and focus back on my best friend.
When I do, I see she still hasn’t uncrossed her arms and is waiting for an answer that I don’t want to give her.
So, instead, I walk past her into the kitchen and grab two wine glasses.
“Thirsty?” I ask, hoping to distract her thoughts though I know it’s a long shot until I spill and tell her everything.
The silence is deafening as she waits me out.
I choose to continue to ignore her rather than cave.
Grabbing a half-empty bottle of red wine, I divide the rest of it between the two glasses.
Drinking from my own glass as I return to Gwen in the living room, I try to quickly plot a way to avoid the topic.
Gwen stares me down as I approach. She’s still standing in the same spot, her arms are still folded, and she’s still waiting for an answer as to who Noah is and what’s going on between the two of us.
Extending the other glass to my best friend, I’m not surprised when she refuses to take it.
I proceed to take sip after sip of my wine and debate starting on Gwen’s glass next if we stand here long enough for me to reach the bottom of my own.
Gwen breaks first.
“So, who’s the sex on a stick that was groping my best friend harder and faster than a horny thirteen-year-old who's never seen a pair of tits?”
I choke on my wine, spewing some out into the air. Gwen grabs her glass angrily, waiting for my response. Her eyebrows shoot up, her eyes grow wide waiting for an answer. She purses her lips. Crossing her arms again, she waits for me to answer.
“It wasn’t that bad,” I say, wiping my mouth with my hand and looking down to make sure I haven’t spit the wine out on my shirt.
“Eva, if I hadn’t walked in when I did, you’d be working on baby numero uno with Mr. Sexy Tall Dark and Handsome.
Oh my God, Ev, the man is gorgeous,” she squeals.
“Like almost too good looking, you know? So not cool, girl. It’s not like you to not tell me stuff.
You’ve always told me everything, and I didn’t know about this,” she shouts, starting the lecture I knew was scratching at the surface the moment she walked through my front door and found me practically fucking a guy she doesn’t remember.
“Like how new is he?” she continues as I begin to walk towards the living room.
“I mean, I know it’s been a while for you, but girl, that doesn’t mean you can be stupid.
Think! STDs! Screw that! Babies … babies with strangers!
Strangers that won’t stick around to play house, or daddy, or make an honest woman out of you! ”
I roll my eyes and walk further into the living room as Gwen follows. Calming a bit, she finally takes a sip of her wine before continuing.
“Who is he? And why the hell did I not know about this? This is incredibly important and very valuable information you’ve been withholding from me, especially if you’re debating getting serious with whoever he is. What did you say his name was again?”
We circle around the couch and take a seat side by side. I debate giving Gwen the long answer, though settle for the short, hoping the less information I give, the shorter this interrogation will be.
“His name is Noah,” I answer, taking a bigger gulp of wine than necessary and waiting for the next round. I can take a guess at where this is headed and if I’m right, I need to self-medicate.
“Noah! Like who is named Noah anymore anyway. Or ever for that matter. I’ve never heard of that kind of name. Huh, Noah. Okay.”
She drinks her wine, and we sit there in silence for a moment. I start to think maybe she will let up, but the wheels in her head are still obviously turning.
“This means, I don’t think he can be trusted. With a name like Noah, honestly. Like, does he build boats too?” Gwen teases, pressing the issue.
“Oh, stop it. You’re too damn judgmental of people all the time,” I snap, annoyed and not wanting to discuss the matter further.
“Fine,” the irritation is evident in her voice as she takes another sip of wine. “Well, tell me about the guy? Where did he go to school? What’s his favorite color? Favorite band? Favorite food? Best friend?” Her questioning continues.
“He’s best friends with Rex,” I quietly answer into my wine glass.
“Hell no! Rex! That has all sorts of wrong written all over it! Rex of all people? Eva, you should know better.”
She’s shouting now, and even though I’ve never fully understood why, I know enough to understand that Rex is a sensitive topic with her.
“Come on! He’s not that bad.” I try to smooth things over. “Talk about me withholding information. You ever going to tell me why you’ve almost always had this hatred towards Rex?”
Gwen shoots off the couch and walks into the kitchen. “We are talking about you, remember? Not me. Stop avoiding the questions.”
“Me avoiding? That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” I yell over my shoulder.
“I’m not listening,” she shouts as I hear another bottle of wine being opened. She returns to me sitting on the couch, fills up her glass first and then mine.
“Be nice, or I won’t tell you anything,” I say quickly. It succeeds in shutting her up. If there is one thing that always gets her to stop it’s the threat of being shut out from gossip. Gwen looks down at her glass and takes another sip, drawing out the moment.
“It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen you with anyone,” she says. “And hell, I’ve never seen you with anyone like that.”
I laugh. She’s right. We’ve seen each other in some pretty compromised situations, but I am sure that topped them all.
“I’m serious, Ev,” my best friend continues. “I’m talking more than just the raging hormones and groping that I walked in on. I’m talking about that spark.”
My eyes shoot up.
“Holy hell, lady. I could feel that shit and I wasn’t even the one that started the fire.” She fans herself and lets out a whistle. “Even when you guys stopped, it was like you were still going at it. I was uncomfortable just being in the room with you two, like I was still intruding or something.”
“You were,” I laugh. “How long were you standing there watching?”
“Long enough,” she says. A sense of sadness fills her eyes, and for the first time, I see heartbreak there.
Something I haven’t seen since she lost her sister.
“I just want to make sure that you’re not getting in over your head.
You’re a strong woman, I know that. But you have dreams and plans.
I just don’t want to see a guy come along and make you change your mind.
Even if the guy might ooze more sex appeal than Justin Timberlake and Ryan Gosling combined. ”
I laugh as she reaches over and squeezes my knee.
“Good Lord, woman, I’m not joking. It’s like Paul Newman’s eyes on Channing Tatum’s body with James Dean’s rugged good looks.”
I giggle, taking another sip of wine.
“I’m not gonna lie, I would totally take even like the smallest slice of that three-way.
” I begin to laugh harder when she doesn’t ease up on her comparisons.
“I mean hell, he’s like Chris Pine mixed with a little Tom Hardy then rolled into Elvis Presley’s ‘it just comes natural to be this sexy’ kinda swagger.
” I laugh even harder. “I’m not lying. I saw the way he rolls his hips girl,” she continues, starting to giggle herself.
“Shit, he could ‘love me tender’ all night long. Or rough. Hell, beggars can’t be choosers. ”
We’re now laughing hysterically, spilling our wine, and holding on to each other for dear life.
“Lord, I missed you, lady,” I say, catching my breath.
She smiles at me as we sit there silently, knowing how much our friendship means to one another without having to say another word.
After a moment, my mind slowly drifts back to the words she’s just said.
Not the long list of ways she compared Noah to some of the amazing men we have always admired, but her words before that.
Sure, he’s sexy, and God only knows how badly I want him.
But I have never let anyone or anything stop me from pursuing anything before.
I don’t intend to let someone now. I have no intention of letting this beautiful distraction stop me from the plans that I have had in place long before we ever crossed paths, no matter how strong our chemistry is.
When I still haven’t spoken after a few minutes, Gwen decides to switch speeds. Getting up from the couch, she starts once again towards the kitchen.
“So, are we going out? Because I’m starving!”
“Oh my God, the groceries,” I exclaim, remembering they’re still sitting in my car.
Jumping to my feet, I’m thankful it’s cold outside and they most likely haven’t spoiled.
I grab my coat and keys and hurry out the door, down the stairs, and to my car.
Opening the trunk, I grab the few bags I had bought and rush back inside.
The night has cooled off quickly. Even with a coat, it is much cooler than it was a week ago.
Setting the bags on the counter, I begin unloading the perishables into the fridge when Gwen slams the cupboard door and turns around to face me.
“Screw this!” Gwen exclaims as I put the last of the items away. “We’re going out. Get dressed.”
“Gwen, I can’t go out. I have to work in the morning. Hell, I am supposed to get some work done tonight,” I try to reason with her.
“Whatever, stop being such a grandma.” She makes her way toward the living room, grabs her bag, and heads down the hallway. “If you’re going off the market soon, I’m making sure to enjoy every last second until then.”
“I never said I was thinking about getting serious—” I start to say.
“Save it. I already contacted Uber. Fifteen minutes, lady. Is that club of your brother’s still as swanky as I remember?”
I can hear her rummaging through her bag and roll my eyes as I make my way down the hallway. Not only do I not want to go out tonight, but I definitely am not in the mood for Gatsby’s. Glancing into the spare room, I see Gwen holding up a scrap of fabric that can hardly be called a dress.
“You know it is November in northern California. Have you forgotten you’re not at the beach?” I ask.
She ignores me, grabs some gold stilettos out of her bag, and turns to start dressing.
Continuing down the hallway, I have no idea what to wear and no desire to be anywhere near an environment like Gatsby’s.
Opening up my closet, I pause briefly as I start to realize that maybe Noah is making more of an impression on me than I thought.