Chapter Eleven
I stare down at the ignored message, my knee shaking as I wait for her to respond. She hasn’t responded to any of them all evening, and I know she isn’t home because, like a damn stalker, I checked her door camera after the third message got ignored.
Shit.
Unable to sit still any longer, I stand and begin to pace in front of the window, my fingers curled tight around my cell. Why isn’t she replying? She’s read them.
Panic eats at me, making my skin feel too tight for my body.
Across the penthouse, I hear the handle for my front door go, and I snap my eyes up to see her walking in, her shoulders low, chin tilted down.
I don’t think, just move, getting to her in under a second and in my arms. She buries her face into my chest, body going soft against me.
“What happened?” I ask.
She just shakes her head, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Alarm bells start ringing in my head, “Did someone hurt you?” I growl, pulling back so I can get a good look at her. She appears unharmed, but that doesn’t mean anything.
“No, no, I’m fine.” She moves out of my reach and heads further into the apartment, collapsing down onto the couch with a heavy breath. “I just went to see my sister, that's all.”
“Is she okay?” I lower myself down beside her.
“She’s fine.”
“The baby?”
“He’s good, too.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
She gives me a fake smile. “I told her about what we are doing.”
“Right?”
“She doesn’t approve.”
Oh.
“I know it’s not a big deal. I didn’t actually think she would approve, but it just hurt my feelings a little.”
“What did she say?”
A heavy sigh rattles out of her, “It’s ridiculous. She thinks I’m in love with you; I mean, how crazy is that? It’s like she doesn’t know us at all.”
Something in my chest fractures.
I hide the pain, hide the way those words run through me like a damn freight train.
“And she thinks I’m going to get my heart broken when all of this is said and done.”
“I’d never hurt you,” I vow.
“I know,” Sidney softens, “I guess I just wanted her to be excited for me.”
“What do you need me to do?” The ache in my chest is spreading, blooming and seeping into the cracks of my soul. Am I just a fucking idiot? Praying something more happens for us?
“Nothing,” her eyes clear as she looks at me, “You’re enough.”
God damn it.
Pushing up from the couch, I head through to the kitchen to grab both of us some water. She’s facing the windows away from me, so I take a moment to myself. I press my fist to my mouth and bite down, internally screaming.
The pain is enough to distract me from the one throbbing in my chest.
When I’ve calmed down enough, I return to her, passing her the bottle.
“Can we chill tonight?” She asks me, “Watch a movie and just be us?”
“Anything you want,” I don’t know how she doesn’t hear the strain in my voice, but she beams up at me, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch before she toes off her shoes and curls up under it.
“What should we watch?”
I stare at the darkened ceiling, my whole body entirely too tight.
Sidney sleeps in the room opposite me, completely unaware of the turmoil rolling through me like the clouds currently are.
A storm is brewing; the deep gray of the sky appearing almost purple, violent.
Somewhere in the distance, lightning flashes, brightening my room for just a second before all falls dark again.
I am, for all intents and purposes, a shitty human being and a shitty fucking friend.
Perhaps I should just come clean, lay it all on the table and let her pick.
It would be the right thing to do instead of hiding behind false intentions and manipulation.
I just can’t let her go. The mere idea physically pains me, and after her words earlier this evening, I can see the rope fraying.
How much damage can it take before it snaps in half?
I want Sidney to be happy; more than anything, I want her to have everything she desires, and I know I can be the man who provides that for her.
I’ve watched this woman grow; I’ve seen her thrive; I’ve seen her pain, and it’s me who has held her together.
I just want her to love me. Love me the way I love her.
Not as friends. But as two people who have been placed on this earth solely for the other.
Because that’s the fact of it. If for no other purpose, I am here for her.
I think I manage a couple of hours of sleep, though it feels like I’m rubbing sandpaper across my eyes when I pry them open with the rising sun the following day.
I can hear Sidney in the kitchen, her awful singing voice traveling through the walls, and I feel my mouth pull up into a smile.
Throwing off the sheets tangled around my legs, I follow the sound, unable to stop myself from seeking her out.
She’s dressed in only my shirt, shimmying her shoulders to music that plays in her ears.
She hasn’t realized I’m here yet, not when she’s so focused on making pancakes at the stove, nimble on her feet as she dances through my kitchen, entirely at home and at peace.
I will never tire of looking at her.
Resting my shoulder against the door frame, I track her moves, watching the hem of my shirt swish and whisper against her firm thighs, completely entranced as it rises to show the creases of her ass when she reaches for the plates stacked above the counter.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, palms tingling with the memory of how her body felt in my hands.
How soft her skin was, how pliant. I could watch her fall apart over and over, spend an eon on my knees and never grow tired of the way she responds to my touch.
Let it be known—I am down bad for Sidney Summer Adams.
She spins on her toe, catches my eye and jumps about three feet into the air, letting out the chirp that gave her, her nickname.
“Noah!” She squeals, clutching her chest as she shouts over the music blasting in her ears. “How long have you been there!?”
“Long enough,” I respond.
“What?” She yells. “What did you say?”
“Take out the headphones,” I laugh.
“Huh?” She continues to shout, her face scrunched up as she tries to read my lips.
“Headphones,” I say.
“I can’t hear you!”
Chuckling, I cross over to her and pluck a bud from her ear, showing her the device as it continues to play music.
“Oh.” She reaches for the other and places it on the side before she taps her cell and stops the music. “Did I wake you?”
“No, cricket,” My hand slides around the nape of her neck, “You sleep okay?”
She tilts her head back, “Mmhmm. Did you?”
“Fine,” I lie.
Sleeping in separate beds feels wrong, but I know I need to take this slowly, ease her into the idea of us.
That first night I’d warred with myself, unsure if I should place her in with me or in the bed she usually sleeps in when she’s here.
After I’d tucked her in and stroked her hair, my legs felt like lead as I left her there.
She cocks her head to the side and then reaches up with her hand, running her fingers delicately beneath my eyes, “Are you sure?”
It takes everything I have not to lean into her touch. “I’m good.”
She sighs and drops her hand. “I made us pancakes.”
“Smells good,” I pad over to the island and pull out a stool for her. “Sit, I’ll serve.”
When I glance over my shoulder, I catch her eyes on my ass, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“Eyes up here, cricket,” I chuckle.
She snaps her gaze up, rolling her lips inwards, “What? I wasn’t looking.”
You see, when my cricket lies, she touches her nose with her finger. Just a small brush, there and gone, but I picked up on the tell when we were still kids.
“Little liar,” I tease, turning toward her. “Look all you like.”
“I wasn’t looking, I swear,” she breathes as I come to a stop in front of her.
I chuckle, the sound warm, “Whatever you say.”
“Shut up,” she rolls her eyes and stomps away, planting her ass on the stool. I’m still grinning when I dish up the pancakes onto plates, moving to the fridge to pull out the strawberries and whipped cream she likes to have with them. I fix them for her and slide the plate across the island.
“It should be studied how well you know me,” she stabs a strawberry with her fork and shoves it in her mouth. She never lets herself have it this way, but when we’re at my place, she can have everything she wants. My fridge will always have strawberries and cream for her pancakes.
I walk my plate around the island and take the seat beside her. “I know you better than I know myself.”
“Honestly,” she licks whipped cream off the back of her fork, “I feel that.”
My entire body warms.
“This is nice,” she says after a beat. “I’m not going to lie, I was scared.”
“Talk to me,” I demand gently.
“I figured this would change us.”
A heavy sigh releases from me, “Nothing could change us.”
“You’re right,” she smiles, “So I’m fully in, Noah. If you want to do this, let’s do it.”
My hand is strangling my fork. “Yeah?”
“As long as you promise we will be back to the same Noah and Sidney when this is all said and done.”
Not if I have anything to do with it.
“I promise, Sid.”
She beams at me, “This is insane.”
“It could be worse,” I shrug.
She nods seriously, “It could be drugs. Instead, it’s your dick and I can live with that.”
A piece of pancake goes down the wrong way and I choke, curling over as I expel the crumb from my windpipe.
“Oh shit, don’t die,” Sidney begins slapping her palm against my back.
I shrug off her hand, “Jesus, Sidney.”
“What?” She snaps her head back. “What did I do?”
“Talking about my dick like that,” I pick up my coffee and take a sip to try and relieve the scratch in my throat.
“Does it turn you on?” She wiggles her brows, “If I say the word cock, are you gonna get hard?”
Yes.
Say it again.
“Behave yourself.” I grumble.
Her eyes drop to my lap.
“Oh my god, it does! How did I not know this about you!?”
I keep it to myself that the only reason I’m reacting at all is because of her. “Is that a kink?” She continues.
“I don’t know,” I push my plate away, too focused on not pinning her to the counter.
“Do you have any kinks? I don’t think we’ve ever talked about this.”
Only you.
“No.” I reply.
“I’ve never really explored it,” she muses, entirely oblivious to me dying beside her. “There’s some that look really interesting.”
“Oh, yeah?” I rasp.
“Have you ever done butt stuff?” She turns her eyes to me, so wide and open. I am going to hell.
“Sidney,” I groan.
“Have you?” She pushes.
“Yes.”
“Is it good?”
I’m seriously debating on yeeting myself off the balcony. Maybe I should invest in a parachute or something to keep at hand so I have a quick escape from conversations that have all the blood draining from my head and into my dick.
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“Preparation.”
“That makes sense,” she nods, contemplating.
“You want to try it?” I ask hesitantly, clearly asking for trouble.
She shrugs, “Maybe.”
Fuck me.
“I figure if I’m going to try anything, it should be with you, right?” She flicks her eyes to me and shrugs, “At least I know I’m safe then. And since we’re already here…”
My hand scrubs down my face. “Right.”
“Anyway,” she pops the last bite of her pancake into her mouth and hops off the stool, taking her plate to the dishwasher, “I've gotta get going so I can get ready for work.”
“We need to talk about the whole… baby thing.”
“I know,” she pauses at the threshold leaving the kitchen. “I have an app that tracks everything, so I’m going to work out dates today.”
I hate the idea of putting this on a schedule, but I nod anyway.
Sidney turns and disappears into her room, clicking the door shut behind her. Now that I’m alone, I let my head bump against the counter, wondering what god I pissed off to put me in this position.
I am so done for.