2. Noah
Chapter two
Noah
Ever wondered what thirty thousand tastes like?
“Well, this is an interesting turn of events,” I say out loud as I watch the devastatingly beautiful Veronica disappear from view. Damn, that woman is a goddess.
I knew it the first moment I saw her all those months ago, but I’m not only talking physically. There’s something about her that draws me in. And from how obsessed Gabe has been with her since November, I’d say he feels that same pull.
“You can say that again. Oh, this is going to be fun!” He grins wickedly at me before turning around and heading for the kitchen, most likely to make himself some nasty green smoothie he claims is super healthy.
I stay leaning against the wall a little longer, eyes fixed on the closed elevator doors like she might change her mind and come right back. She won’t. I know she won’t. Veronica is one feisty woman who does whatever she sets her mind to. If she said she was leaving, then she’s gone.
“Yeah, that’s if we can manage to keep her,” I tell him, pushing off the wall and inspecting the open space. Nothing but clean surfaces as far as the eye can see. The floors are shinier than I've seen them in a while, and the place smells clean, like freshly squeezed lemons.
“Don’t worry, we will. We just need to convince her to stay.” Yeah, it’s going to take some major convincing. “This is our shot with her, Noh. You realize that, right?” He sets out ingredients on the counter beside the blender.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She’s fought us off for the past seven months.”
“Yeah, but now we’ll be around her three times a week. That’s excluding when we’re with the rest of the gang. She’ll be in our space. All we have to do is kick up the charm factor. She’ll give in, trust me.”
He’s right, she probably will. I’ve seen her defenses drop from time to time around us recently.
What I’m more worried about is what happens after we’ve had our fun with her.
I don’t know about Gabriel, but I have a feeling Veronica won’t be like all the others—where just a few fucks will be enough to get her out of my system for good.
I think I might want to keep her around after. I’ll just need to figure out what his intentions are with her, outside of fucking her brains out.
I watch him blend his shit together then pour half of it into a glass and take his first sip, sighing with pleasure once he’s done. “Want one?” He tips his glass my way.
My face contorts in disgust. “Nah, I’m good.”
I pull out my phone from my back pocket, checking for missed calls or messages but come up empty, then turn and head for the stairs without saying a word.
Gabe is used to my mood swings by now. I may be fun and playful in public, but at home, this is my sanctuary, where I can fully let go and be myself. He gets that and leaves me be.
Gabe and I have been friends for the past five years. We were both traded in at the same time, him from Colorado and me from Los Angeles. We bonded instantly over being the new guys on the team.
Silas, Clay, and Greyson took us under their wing right away, and we all quickly became family.
But they were also older than me and Gabriel.
We were barely twenty-three at the time, while Greyson was twenty-six and Silas and Clay were twenty-eight.
Plus, Clay had just gotten married, so they weren’t really the ‘going out to clubs’ type.
That’s how Gabe and I started getting our reputation of ‘always doing everything together.’ At that point, it wasn’t entirely true, we just always partied together until one night when this girl wanted us both, and we said why the hell not.
One thing led to another, and we realized how much we enjoyed taking a chick at the same time. From that point, we moved in together as roommates so it would be easier to bring girls home, and the rest is history.
I make my way up to the master bedroom, shutting the door behind me, and lean against it as I take in my new surroundings. My bed is made, and all the clothes that littered the floor were picked up and put away.
I push off the door and walk into the ensuite. Everything sparkles from how clean it is; I can even see through the shower glass walls. They’re pristine to the point of seeming almost invisible.
I wander back to the room and into the walk-in closet. Shit, okay. This girl is beyond good. All my clothes are neatly hung up and organized by color and season. It looks amazing, but I’ll never be able to keep it like this.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I can be a slob. I don’t do it on purpose; I just get so lost in my head sometimes that I forget. Then I tell myself I’ll pick it up later but forget that, too.
I exit the closet and sit on the side of my bed.
She was here, in my room. I can still smell her cinnamon and apple scent through the air.
It’s subtle, but it’s there. I wonder if she climbed onto my bed to tuck in the sheets.
Did she lie down over my pillows, colorful hair splayed out around her like a rainbow?
My cock thickens against my jeans as I think of Veronica lying on my bed, her skinny body beneath my large one as I fuck her into the mattress. I grab my phone, checking to see if I have time to jerk off before needing to head out. Fuck, I’m already cutting it close.
I pass my fingers through my shortly cropped, brown hair and stand, making my way back out of the room and to the elevator. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for dinner tonight, and everyone’s going to question where I was, and then I’ll be a dick and tell them to mind their own business.
I try to avoid that as much as possible. I know they mean well and just care about me, but this has nothing to do with them, and I like to keep my personal life to myself.
I skip down the stairs, passing Gabe, who’s sitting on the couch. “I’m out. I’ll see you at Ford’s later,” I tell him as I step into the elevator and salute a goodbye.
VERONICA
I’m fuming, I feel like I’m going to explode.
I can’t believe that sneaky little ant-sized woman!
I’m mad and I’m irritated. Ugh! As nervous as I was this morning, I was still excited to have this job. It was a good gig with an amazing paycheck; one I didn’t have to kill my back every day of the week to get.
Plus, it’s something I’m actually good at and enjoy doing. There’s something so satisfying about cleaning and organizing things. It can be a lot of work, but when you’re done, the finished product fills you with satisfaction.
But now all that’s been flushed down the drain.
There’s no way I could ever work for Gabe and Noah.
I know they won’t make it easy for me. They’ll corner me at every turn until I give in.
I can deal with them when our friends are around, but with no one else to intercept, I don’t know how long I’d last.
I hate the way I feel around them, like I want to give them my time, which is something I swore I’d never do again. They make my stomach turn to knots and my heart do somersaults with every little smile and touch.
I can’t let that happen.
A little over half an hour later, the cab stops in front of Emma’s house, and I pay the driver before storming out and making my way up to the front door. I don’t bother knocking or ringing the doorbell, I just grab the knob and push it open.
I find Emma right on the other side with a shocked expression on her face, her purse hanging over her shoulder, and with the look of fear she carries in her eyes, I’d say I probably almost smacked her in the face with the door.
Good. She’d deserve it. There’s no way she wasn’t in on this.
She and Cecilia have been best friends for a long time; she definitely knew what the little scheming brunette was up to.
I find Cecilia a few steps behind her. Good. Just the woman I wanted to have a word with. I fist my hands at my sides, fire blazing in my eyes. “You are all dead to me. DEAD! I HATE YOU!” I spit at them.
Their eyes go wide as I storm past them, toward the kitchen. “I need a drink!” I mumble to myself. “I’m taking your most expensive bottle of wine and drinking it all by myself! Try to stop me, Em. Try,” I shout over my shoulder and head for the wine cellar.
They both explode with laughter at my outburst, enraging me even more. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” I yell back before shutting myself inside the cellar. I need a moment to collect myself.
I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves before scanning the selection in front of me.
There’s a lot, and if I’m honest, I don’t recognize any.
Are they even sorted in a certain way? Price?
Taste? Age? Color? Jesus, I’m no expert at this.
I guess that’s what happens when you’re indebted with student loans and live off a minimal salary. You don’t have money for any luxuries.
The door to the cellar opens, and Sam—Dante and Gracie’s nanny—walks in. He’s a very attractive young man, and sadly for me, not into women. He walks over to a different shelf from the one I’m observing and reaches up high for a bottle.
“Here, this one is exactly what you’re looking for,” he says with a subtle Italian accent and a smirk.
“How can you tell?”
“My parents are big wine enthusiasts.” He chuckles. “That, what you’re holding in your hands, is a thirty-thousand-dollar French wine. Also, I’m Italian. We know wine.”
My mouth drops at the price but then quickly shuts at his last comment. “I’m Italian and know nothing about wine,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes.
“Then I guess that’s the difference between a real Italian and an American one.” He shrugs, leaning against one of the shelves.
My frown deepens. “You were born in Washington,” I deadpan.
“We’ll blame it on your youth,” he tries again.
“I’m twenty-four!” I gape incredulously at him.
“Exactly!” He snaps his fingers before pointing it at me. “A whole year’s worth of extra knowledge up here.” He taps his temple, then laughs when I glare at him. “Come on, Bella. Let’s go drink some expensive wine.”