Chapter Twenty-nine
My palms are sweaty as I wait on the sidewalk. It’s three minutes to two, and she isn’t here yet. Maybe that kid lied and didn’t hand her the bag like I paid him to. Pulling out my cell, I check for any messages, but that’s sadly empty, no missed calls or texts.
She’s not coming.
I don’t even blame her.
I sabotaged her chance of happiness. Lied to her. Betrayed her trust.
Fuck, it’s bad.
I’ve lost her.
Shoving my hands through my hair, I tug on the strands to try and stop the incoming crash out, but then the sound of tires rolling up catches my attention.
I snap my head toward the cab as it comes to a stop at the sidewalk.
A few seconds later, my cricket appears, her scrapbook tucked close to her chest.
She looks tired. Her dark hair has been braided and pulled away from her face, but dark circles line beneath her eyes; the shadows telling of a restless night. I doubt I look much better, but I was too much of a coward to look this morning.
“Cricket,” I rasp when she stops in front of me, her eyes bouncing from me to the house behind me.
“Hi,” she eventually says, her voice soft.
“You got my note.”
She dips her chin in a nod. “How did you even get the coffee shop to put that in?”
I rub the nape of my neck. “I uh, didn’t. I went myself and then paid some kid to bring it to you.”
Sidney stares at me for a moment, her brows lifted high. “You paid a kid to deliver it?”
“I wasn’t sure what else to do,” I cringe.
With a shake of her head, she turns her attention to the house.
We’re in the suburbs, not too far from where her sister lives, but this area is a little quieter with fewer houses.
It backs onto some meadows and woods, the city where we both call home hiding behind them.
The skyscrapers and smog concealed by lush green leaves and rolling hills full of wildflowers.
“What are we doing here, Noah?” She asks, but I can tell by the look on her face that she knows what this place is.
Slowly, I reach for her scrapbook, asking without words for her to give it to me. I’ve looked through it a thousand times, but this time feels different. She hands it over, and I immediately go to the page I have memorized.
She filled the spread shortly after we both graduated college and moved into the city, taking the clippings from magazines or printed them out from the realtor’s website.
This house.
It had been left abandoned some time ago, but a couple bought it and completely renovated it, turning it from a shell into a home.
It had made the local news for whatever reason and Sid had hyper focused on it.
She watched the restoration religiously, and when it was done, she told me her dream of owning something like it one day.
It had taken some negotiating and a lot of money, but after she had told me, I’d made it my goal to buy it for her.
“It’s the house,” she whispers with wide eyes.
“It is,” I confirm.
“Oh my god,” she steps closer to the picket fence, “It’s so much better in person. How did you find it?”
It was the only thing missing from all the reports. The address.
“Some friends in high places,” is all I tell her. “Do you want to see inside?”
“We can go inside?”
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the key, “If you want to.”
“Please,” she says, her eyes still focused on the house of her dreams. Opening the gate, I offer her ahead of me and then step in behind her, latching it before we walk down the paved path.
Lush green lawn spreads out on either side, completely fenced in to allow privacy and security.
Flower beds are filled with vibrant plants, and a small play area has been erected in the backyard, complete with a swing and slide. Brand new. Never used.
A wraparound porch holds a two-seater swing chair, the deck trailing around to patio doors that lead into the main bedroom.
Inserting the key, I open the door, letting her inside first.
The house isn’t what it looked like back when she was watching it.
It’s been ripped apart again, changed to what she put in her scrapbook, down to the color key she put together in the corner.
The kitchen is a mix of oak wood and olive green, with a huge family table set to the side to have breakfast and lunch around.
This front space is completely open plan, so the kitchen flows into the living room where oak and creams dominate.
An open stone fireplace takes center stage, an L-shaped sofa set in front of it with love chairs in the corners and shelves filled with the books I’ve seen her read over the years.
The windows look out onto the backyard and patio.
“This is exactly how I pictured it,” she whispers, her fingers trailing over the furniture as she opens the door just off the kitchen that reveals a formal dining area.
“Noah,” she turns to me, “Tell me you didn’t.”
“I can’t.” My fingers curl into my palms.
She opens her mouth to say something but closes it quickly, moving past me to follow the hall down to the bedrooms. She opens the first door. A guest suite with its own bathroom, and then on to the next. An office with an oversized desk and a wall full of shelves.
All the rooms she has pinned in her scrapbook.
She hesitates when she gets to the next door, tears glistening in her eyes.
“You did this,” she whispers before she opens the door, revealing a nursery, a quiet lullaby playing from a small speaker beside the white crib.
Perhaps it was presumptuous of me, but this place has been here for her from the moment I was able to give it to her.
Back then, I’m not sure I thought it would be for us, but I would have given it to her anyway.
She moves to the next room—a spare that could be turned into a child’s room, and the one beside it is the same, and then beside that is the family bathroom. Across the hall is the main bedroom which she disappears into.
The room matches the rest of the house: oak and creams with splashes of color throughout. French doors lead out onto the porch, giving a view of the woods and the rolling meadows surrounding it.
“You bought this place,” she says, turning to me.
“I did,” I confirm. “It took some back and forth, but you wanted it.”
“Noah…”
“I bought this place for you. A place for your future. Back then, it wasn’t for us, even if I wanted it to be.
I bought it because this is where you saw yourself.
A family around you, your sister close but the city within reach.
The house is yours, Sidney. A gift and you just need to sign the deed whenever you’re ready. ”
“You bought me a house!?” She shrieks.
“With a white picket fence. I figured you’d want to pick out your own dog.”
“Holy shit, Noah.”
I follow behind her as she walks through the house again, toward the patio doors that lead out into the backyard.
There’s a seating area for outdoor dining and a hot tub.
I’ve been paying gardeners and house staff to look after the place since it was empty, and they’ve kept it together.
Sidney could move in tomorrow if she wanted to.
“Why did you do this?”
“I have one more thing to show you,” I say instead of answering.
Opening the back door, I step out into the yard and follow the path that disappears around the side of the house, toward an area that can’t be seen through the windows. It’s a small log cabin, and I pull out the key to unlock it, opening it up for her to step inside.
She hesitates at the door, her eyes on me, but then she steps over the threshold, slipping inside. I hear her gasp from here, and I know exactly what she is seeing.
It’s a replica of the trailer we fixed up and used to hang out in, down to the fairy lights and cushions set up on a low-framed bed and mattress. Old posters are hanging on the walls, a stack of books set up on the table, spines worn with use and time.
“This is the trailer,” she breathes.
“Well, kind of,” I agree, “It’s our place.”
“Why, Noah?”
“Do you know when I knew I loved you?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, hands fidgeting in front of her.
“It was in the trailer. We were getting ready to go to college, and we met there for one last night. Just two kids who had no idea what life was going to be like from then on. You told me how terrified you were, not because of the uncertainty, but because you were worried that we might grow apart. I told you it was impossible, and I meant that. I guess I loved you before that night, but it was that night that I realized I would follow you anywhere. Any city, in any country, it didn’t matter, as long as you were there.
I knew life could have stolen this from us.
That it was possible that whatever we had was something we would grow out of, but I couldn’t let you go.
“It’s been you since the moment you chirped at me in the hallway at school.
The girl who saw past my background, who didn’t judge me for the shit I couldn’t control.
The one who looked at me and saw so much potential I didn’t see in myself.
If I hadn’t met you that day, if we hadn’t become who we are together, I’m not sure I would be where I am. You are my reason.”
A tear rolls over her cheek, catching in the corner of her mouth.
“For a long time, I thought I would be okay watching you fall in love, get married and fulfill that bucket list of yours, but I wasn’t. I am selfish for what I did, and I know I hurt you, and for that, I will hate myself for the rest of my life.”
Sidney looks to her feet, “I don’t want you to hate yourself, Noah.”
I shrug softly. “I fucked up.”
“You did,” she agrees.
“I wanted to tell you,” I risk a step closer, drawn into her orbit.
“And then we made this crazy arrangement, and we were closer than we had ever been before. I finally had what I had been wishing for, and the coward in me was too afraid to tell you in case I lost you. And then there was the shame.”
“If you had just told me,” she meets my eyes, her tongue wetting her lips, “I would have deleted his number. I don’t care about Isaac; it was never about him.”
“I know, baby.” I sigh. “I think a part of me was always worried you would pick him.”
A loud, boisterous laugh erupts from her, “Absolutely not. I’d have picked you over anyone.”
“I need to know if this is it for us, Sid,” I feel the backs of my eyes burn, the mere prospect of losing her breaking my soul in two. “I need to know if I’ve lost you.”
Her dark eyes bounce between mine, and several long seconds of silence stretch between us, but then she steps forward, the gap closing, and my heart thuds painfully.
Lifting her hand, she cups my face, the feel of her skin on mine like a balm.
“I’m mad at you,” Her thumb circles against my cheekbone, “So fucking mad, Noah, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to walk away from you.”
“Can you be mad at me in the same room?” I beg. “Throw things at me if you like, just don’t leave.”
She laughs, “I’m not going to throw things at you, Noah.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“Don’t ever do anything like that again,” she says sternly. “We have nothing if we don’t have trust.”
“You’re right, baby.” Slowly, I lift a hand and slide it around her waist, internally cheering when she doesn’t pull away from it. “I promise.”
“Okay,” She breathes.
“Can I kiss you now?”
“I’ll allow it,” she smirks.
I don’t waste a single second. My mouth lands on hers like I’ve been without air for too long.
I breathe her in, hold her close as my tongue slips between her lips and I angle her head to deepen the kiss.
I feel the soft bite of her nails as she curls them against my chest, holding on just as tightly as I am.
“I missed you,” I rasp, softening the kiss to chaste brushes of my lips along her jaw and then down her neck.
“It’s only been one day,” she angles her head, allowing me further access.
“Felt like a lifetime,” I admit, pushing down the strap of her top so I can trail kisses over her shoulder.
Her skin pebbles with every brush of my mouth, but I just can’t get enough. I always need more of her. She is the air in my lungs, the ground under my feet. Reaching down, my hands grasp the backs of her thighs, and I lift her, forcing her to put her legs around my waist.
“We never kissed back in that trailer,” I walk toward the bed of blankets and cushions, gently lowering her onto them.
“That’s because friends don’t kiss, Noah.”
I chuckle, “We’ve never just been friends. May have taken us twenty years to figure that out, but we’ve always been more.”
Holding my weight on my elbows, I look down at her.
“You can change that now,” she licks her bottom lip, “Kiss me and pretend we’re back in that trailer.”
“Whatever you want,” I say before I kiss her again, her thighs opening so our bodies can be closer. My cock hardens, hips grinding forward, and I pull away.
“But we may need to make it short,” I wince, “Or I’m going to do more than just kiss you.”
“Isn’t that the point?” She cocks her head to the side and reaches for my belt.
“Sid,” I warn.
“You know we’ve had sex pretty much everywhere but in a bed. This kind of counts as a bed, and I hear make up sex is some of the best sex.”
“Oh, yeah?” I let her pop the button on my pants and then I reach for my shirt, yanking it off and throw it onto the ground.
“Mm,” Her nails bump over the ridges of my abdominal muscles, and my body trembles, tightening the closer she gets to the waistband of my pants. “Want to show me if that’s true?”
She dips her hand into my pants and cups my hard cock, jerking it over the material of my boxers. A groan rumbles from my throat at the contact, pleasure coursing down my spine.
“Fuck, Sid,” I groan.
Her hand tightens once and then lets go so she can strip out of her top and bra. Her pants come off next, and she lies back onto the pillows, brown eyes swirling. “Show me how sorry you are.”