Chapter Two
There's an incessant buzzing in my ear. I want to swat it away like an annoying fly, but it gets louder and louder and -
Wait a second.
"What?" I feel myself groan, turning over and pulling the blankets up higher.
"Get up, we're going out for breakfast." Matt's voice penetrates my ears, so I continue to groan at him. "Unless you don't want a greasy sausage and egg McMuffin right now? With an extra hash brown?"
I pull one of the blankets from my face, squinting at the sunlight that comes through the window. Matt and Noah stand side by side against the counter in the kitchen, eyeing me.
I automatically feel a blush rise through my cheeks as I meet Noah's eye. He looks down at the couch I'm splayed across, and I follow his line of sight to one of my legs, exposed in the open, looking smooth and lanky and just as pale as ever in the sunlight.
I pull myself into a seated position, tipping my head back and stretching my arms up above me.
"This couch is not comfortable, Matt, for the record."
He snorts and tells me to get ready again. Both he and Noah look away as I stand up, talking with each other quietly as I scramble around my various bags and collect together a passable outfit for a lazy Sunday.
I go upstairs to change, take my hair out of the plaits I'd put in the night before and let it fall around my shoulders.
Glancing at myself in the mirror, I try to see myself through Noah's eyes.
I wonder if he'd like my pale skin, my long ginger hair that I'd gotten from my mother - wondered if I'd compliment his tanned bad boy look if I hung off his arm while we ran errands.
"I have it bad," I speak to myself.
As I'm brushing my teeth, I'm hoping he's an asshole. I hope his personality is a huge turn off, but that killer smile last night is telling me otherwise. Matt wouldn't befriend someone who was an asshole to his sister, it's not in his nature.
"Are you ready?" Matt shouts from the bottom of the stairs.
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and make my way downstairs. Noah is stood against the front door, fiddling with his keys.
"I'm driving," he says.
"Shotgun." I reply, and the grin that spreads across his face makes me giddy.
Matt is gutted I've already called shotgun once we get through the door, accepting it like a child, whining about being pushed aside by his best friend as he gets into the back seat.
I slip back into the leather of the passenger seat, breathing in the musky scent of the car that I hadn't fully appreciated the day before.
Noah's almost too big for the car, his seat lies all the way back to accommodate the length of his legs, but he gets in comfortably, immediately making a fist around the gear-stick as he presses the key into the ignition.
"Jesus Christ," I whisper to myself, staring at the size of his hand around the stick; the faded clock tattoo staring back at me.
How does someone look that good doing something as monotonous as driving?
My brother is kicking the back of my chair, still moaning about being in the backseat as I meet Noah's eyes again.
He smiles at me, putting an arm around the back of my chair and twisting his body to start reversing out of the driveway. I allow myself to look back at his flexed arm once and swallow heavily.
"How was your date, Matt?" I force myself to ask.
"Give me the front seat and I'll tell you," he leans between the seats as Noah drives down the road. "Homewrecker."
"Is that why mum's never met Noah? Because he's your boyfriend?" I ask. Noah's laugh is deep. I part my hair at the back and pull it over my shoulders, smiling.
"I should definitely get to meet your mum," Noah grins.
Matt reaches forward to hit his shoulder. I watch Noah expertly drop the gears down as we drive through a roundabout and pull into the drive-through.
When our order is in and we've driven through to pay and collect our food, Noah taps his card against the machine and hands me the greasy looking bag, looking as happy as he has all morning.
I notice how unruly his hair when we start driving again because he's left his window open and it's blowing in every direction. It's curly and messy and I'd put money on my fingers getting tangled in it if I tried to thread them through.
Some strands of his hair are even a little bit golden in the sun.
"You're staring again," he says quietly, in that soft raspy voice I'd first heard last night. He glances back at me, a smile tugging at his lips, and looks back at the road when I look away.
We pull into a nearby car park as I whisper back, "I think you're just trying to embarrass me."
"I'm stating facts."
We pull over. Matt snatches the food from my lap like he hasn't eaten in days, practically throwing the bag back to the front once he's got what he wants.
Noah hands me my McMuffin, and I begin eating as he does.
"I'm surprised you don't care about getting crumbs in your car."
He grins into the wrapper, "I do." He states, eyes twinkling. "But I'm not completely neurotic."
"That's a big word for a mechanic," I tease.
"Madelaine!" Matt raises his voice, the word muffled through the food in his mouth. I'd forgotten he was there, honestly. "Noah is very smart, aren't you sweetheart?" He leans forward to stroke Noah's face, the two of them sharing a look before Noah slaps him away.
Noah then stares me down, repeating, "I'm very smart, Madelaine."
A shiver runs over me and my mouth fills with saliva. My name out of his mouth sounds... too good. So good that I instantly wish I could get more air because my body suddenly feels like he's reached over and tightened my joints like they're on springs.
His jaw ticks. All the moisture in my body floods south.
I fold my arms over my chest and his eyes follow the movement, down to where I've pressed my breasts up against my t-shirt.
I continue eating despite being hungry for something else entirely and he turns up the volume of the quiet music playing in the car.
"Have you figured out how you're going to get to work yet?" Matt asks.
"What?" I croak, repeating myself after clearing my throat.
"Work?" He asks. "You're not exactly within walking distance anymore, Maddie."
"Oh," the realisation dawns on me. "Oh fuck - yeah - work. Uh, I'll get the bus or something. It's only a few weeks."
"I could drive you, if you wanted." Noah offers politely.
"I really couldn't-"
"Isn't Noah great?" Matt smiles. "You're a star, man."
Noah is great. He's too great. He's I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off great, which is not what I think my brother means, but it's what I'm thinking once he's said it.
It's only lust though. And lust, I can control.
·─────?? ??─────·
Noah and Matt disappear into their rooms when we get home so I get out my work laptop and lazily prepare for the week ahead while a music channel fills the room with noise.
A few hours have passed when one of them appears again. It's Noah, wearing a fitted cotton shirt and workout shorts. His legs are filled with tattoos too and as muscular as I'd expected them to be.
My mouth waters.
"The more of your skin I see, the more I think you have a tattoo addiction."
His head tilts back with his smile. He rolls his neck to look back at me as I peer over the couch.
"You wanna see some more?"
Two of his fingers loop under the bottom of his shirt.
"Oh," I realise instantly. "So you're a player?"
"What?" His voice is high. "No!"
A blush creeps up his chest, his neck turning redder by the second.
He huffs and walks into the kitchen, shaking up some pre-workout and leaning against the counter, looking at the TV as he drinks it.
I look him up and down again, biting my lip.
"Do you wanna come to the gym with me?" He asks suddenly.
I look at him, at his body, again. I imagine his arms flexing as he lifts weights and watching him bend over doing squats, and nod my head - not trusting my mouth to say anything that isn't perverted.
I'm going to need a very cute gym outfit.
It takes five minutes of destroying my neatly packed bags and Noah laughing at me to find my gym shorts and the matching sports bra to accompany them.
I stick my tongue out at him and head into the bathroom to change. I tie up my hair and wink at myself in the mirror, skipping down the stairs two at a time.
Noah is still stood where I left him, browsing through his phone when I leap into the room.
He coughs when I enter, spluttering, nodding.
"Are you alright?"
"No. I mean - yes. Yeah, sorry. Are you okay? Are you ready?"
I walked towards him, around him, grabbing Matt's hoodie from over the back of a stool. He stares at me as I do, still drinking the pre-workout.
I slip into it with his wide eyes watching me, pulling my ponytail out of the hood. It's too big, covering my bum easily, and it smells like his car. I see it in his eyes then.
It's not Matt's hoodie. It's his.
I have two options now: double down, or fumble to get it off.
If I go with option one it's a power move - I've put on his own hoodie in front of him and there's nothing he can do about it.
Option two is obviously the realistic option, so with trembling fingers I reach for the hem at the bottom and start to pull it up.
He reaches out and gently smooths it back down, pursing his lips.
"It's alright," he says quietly.
"I thought it was-"
"I know."
He steps back again so he's an arms length away and picks up his keys from the counter.
I put my hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and smile at him, following him out of the front door and over to his car.
My jaw almost drops in awe when he leans down and opens the passenger side door, signalling into the open space.
"Is this a line too?" I ask, slipping into the leather seat.
He smiles, biting his lower lip.
"I'm just a gentleman."
He closes the door gently and walks around the car, getting into the drivers seat.
Quiet music plays as we drive, I watch the roads we pass.
"So," I turn to him, catching the scent of his aftershave against the neck of his hoodie. I snuggle into it, blinking up at him. "Did you sell your soul for this BMW?"
"No," he laughs. "I bought it second hand and did it up myself."
He runs his hand up the steering wheel, obviously reminiscing over his relationship with the car. I find myself feeling jealous. If only I could just wrap myself around the steering wheel...
"You don't drive?" He asks.
"Paul tried to give me lessons," I sigh. "They didn't go so well."
His lips curve but he says nothing else on the subject so I don't elaborate.
We separate at the gym. I steal glances towards the weightlifting section whenever I can while I do some cardio.
He tips some water back over his face, fingers brushing the liquid through his hair, and I groan and collapse into the stairmaster.
It's only lust. I just have to stop giving into it.
·─────?? ??─────·
When we return from the gym Matt is lying on the sofa, cuddling a pile of wool.
"Matt!" I hiss, looking at the ball of synthetic fur he's holding. I can feel Noah's presence behind me, hovering, looking.
"I forgot about Smoosh," Matt says, breathing deeply.
Why hasn't the floor swallowed me yet?
"Smoosh?" Noah repeats.
Matt holds the stuffed toy up above his head, turning so it faces us.
Smoosh had been in the family a long time. He's a tattered-looking stuffed sheep with eyes that look slightly lazy. His eyelids are purple. I don't ever remember getting Smoosh, but Matt continues to tell the story of how he came to be, to embarrass me.
Noah sits on Matt's feet, grinning ear to ear.
"I would love to hold Smoosh," he beams, giving me a look.
I snatch the toy from Matt's hands, holding it to my chest as if it could sink into my body and disappear forever.
"Oh, she's very protective."
"You suck," I point a finger at him and look back at Noah with a sigh. My mouth opens. Closes again.
His eyebrows raise.
I huff and hand him the toy, looking back at the front door. Flirting with the idea of running very far away.
I walk around the couch to sit on the rug in front of them, leaning my head back against the TV. I pull my sleeves over my hands, throwing the hood over my head, and pout at them both.
Matt laughs and Noah smirks at me, leaning back into the sofa and spreading his legs. As if he owns the room.
It dawns on me that the hoodie I'm still wearing is Noah's. I curl into it a little more to smell that musky scent that seems to cling to everything he touches. Subtly, because I don't want either of them to think I'm weird.
"I think Smoosh is cute," Noah utters. His voice is somewhat deeper, just a hint of teasing behind his words. The look is his eyes makes my toes curl.
"Maddie just had to have him," Matt begins. I groan as he launches into the familiar story. "So we were visiting Northshore Beach..."
I listen, smiling softly, as Matt recalls the entire tale from memory.
Eventually, he gets to the punchline, "and then I watched her steal it from that kid."
Noah laughs. "He's stolen?" He tuts and shakes his head. "So you're a bit of a bad girl then, really?"
I feel the blood rush into my face, the throbbing between my legs instant.
Noah smirks, as if he's fully aware that I find him hot. As if he knows exactly what just happened to my body.
"Our dad realised she took him," Matt continues. "But he said as long as we didn't tell mum she could keep him. And so Smoosh was born."
"I'm sure you've given him a long, happy life."
I take the toy from Noah's hand happily, shoving him into the front pocket of the hoodie.
Matt laughs at me but changes the subject, talking about the score of a recent football game and mentioning the highlights. He shoos me away from the TV as he reaches for the remote to pull up a sports channel.
Noah glances at me and I look away, still feeling the heat in my face.
"I'm going to shower," I tell them both. Matt waves me away again, a non-verbal response I became very familiar with in high school.
I feel Noah's eyes follow me as I walk around the couch, avoiding his line of sight. As I round the doorway and take the first step, I hear the patter of his footsteps behind me.
If I ignore him, he'll go away...
I take a few quick steps, pretending like I don't hear him round the corner too. Pretending I don't feel him looking at me from the bottom of the stairs.
The door separating the hallway and the living room clicks shut.
"Madelaine?" He calls.
"Yes?" I squeak, turning to face him. I set my eyes on his chest.
"Look at me," the grin in his voice is infuriating, but I follow the instruction. "I just wanted to say that you don't need to be embarrassed."
And he'd figured bringing it up would be less embarrassing?
For a second, I'm speechless.
"Maybe you should tell me something embarrassing too," tumbles from my lips. He rubs his jaw, still grinning. I take a few steps towards him to let him know that I'm serious. "I think it's only fair."
"Do you?"
I take a seat on the step I'm stood on, stretching my legs out in front of me.
He says, "I'm struggling to see the relation between you and Matt."
Maybe Matt doesn't see you as the sexiest person to have ever graced the Earth.
I say nothing. He sighs, and I watch as my silent treatment technique clicks in his mind.
"Something that would embarrass me... hm.
I don't embarrass as easily as you, it seems." I scoff and his smile widens.
His pause seems as if it's for dramatic effect.
"I cried when Simba's dad died in The Lion King.
" He groans, clutching his chest, "It's a weight lifted - I'm so glad I could finally tell someone. "
His eyes twinkle under the dim hallway light.
·─────?? ??─────·
I pull my hair out of its ponytail and sink against the bathroom door. I can't live in the same house as this man, he's going to drive me insane.
I try to shake out the image of his messy hair and glossy eyes as he'd looked up at me, waiting for my response to his terrible joke, but it's stuck there at the forefront of my mind.
I huff as I start undressing, seeing how beet-red my cheeks are in the mirror.
I'd been biting the side of the cheek.
"Why have you got to be that hot?" I whisper into the empty room.
Stepping into the empty shower, I let the water run through my hair and over my shoulders as I tip my head back.
His smile is stuck behind my eyes. With his perfect teeth and his tousled just-woke-up hair and his long, muscular legs. Fuck him. (I want to fuck him.)
"Christ, Maddie," I groan, and reach between my legs.
This is absurd, I immediately think. I met this person not even twenty four hours ago and I'm already a mess over them. I don't think I've ever been so attracted to someone.
I run my hand from my inner thigh up to the crease of my hip, and collect a pool of water in my palm, dragging it up to my waistline before letting it drop between my open fingers.
I think about the way his jaw clenched yesterday when I'd grabbed his face.
I allow myself, in this moment, to think of him as my hand strokes over one of my breasts, and then the other, before I reach down once more and press my hand against the warmth between my legs.
I lean against the tiled wall. It's freezing compared to the heat still lingering over my body.
I can hear their muted voices downstairs, muffled by the doors and the water and the TV they've got a bit too loud.
But they're laughing with each other about something or other and it's reassuring that they're not here, in this space upstairs.
I slip a finger between the folds of my sex and lightly run it down to my entrance, knowing that I'd find it already wet. I'd been soaking ever since he'd fucking looked at me with that smirk and called me a bad girl.
I release a shaky breath and close my eyes.
I deserve this, I think to myself.
I deserve to think of someone hot and get off, and I am not guilty that Noah Laurier is that someone; despite him being in this house and being my brothers best friend.
Alright, I'm a tad guilty.
But not guilty enough that I don't stop myself from pushing that finger up to my clit.
The sensitivity washes over me, more so than usual, and I have to actively relax my body as I begin rubbing small circles with the wetness that still coats the tips of my fingers.
He's dancing all over my mind.
I imagine pulling one of those curls away from his eyes, tugging on it with my finger. If I squeeze my eyes closed hard enough, I can picture him smirking at me, those cerulean blue eyes still twinkling.
I lean against the tiles and let a shaky breath fall from my lips.
The water rushes over my head, clings to my long hair, and falls down my body. I look down to watch it.
My finger gently turns in circles. My legs spread a little wider.
I feel the pleasure begin building, my eyes fluttering open and closed as I lose myself in the feeling. The water rushes over my face and leaves my skin hot and pink.
The way his arm flexed when he put his hand behind my seat in the car. The bulge of his bicep. That tick in his sharp jaw.
Two of my fingers press together and I firmly press them down against my clit before sliding further down, feeling the slick heat at my entrance.
"Mads?"
A small whine leaves my lips without my permission and my shoulder smacks against the wall as I try to correct my posture. I know Matt wouldn't come into the room - it's locked anyway, but my breath is heavy and my eyes are wide as I reply.
"What's up?"
The words are off, but he doesn't notice.
"Dinner will be ready in ten, alright?"
"Sounds good."
I don't hear him descend again, but the TV gets louder and quietly briefly, so he's gone back downstairs.
I feel too interrupted to get myself off now. Too guilty in his house. So I wash up as quickly as possible, get out and get changed without thinking about it.
It probably would've done me well to finish before seeing Noah again.
Fawning over him is going to get me nowhere.
My mother would have a field day if she knew the effect that Matt's friend was having on me.
She'd always teased me about his friends growing up, saying what a cliche it would be if I were to fancy one of them; luckily I never did and none of us had the hassle.
I don't fancy him.
I just need to get how fit he is out of my system once and for all, and then continue on with my life.
I put on my fluffy pajamas this time, covering up the pale skin underneath. My fluffy socks have Santa Claus on them even though it's only November.
Once I'm downstairs the smell of fried food hits me like a brick wall.
I almost melt into the carpet of the living room.
Noah and Matt have their backs to me, sat at the island on tall stools.
There's another stool opposite them that I assume Matt has pulled out so we can eat together so I slink over to it.
"What, you're a chef now?"
Matt laughs as I sit down, golden-coloured chicken half chewed in his mouth.
"You're funny," he says. "We have an air-fryer."
I roll my eyes but my stomach rumbles at the sight of the fried food in front of me so I dig in and peer around them to look at the football match still playing on the TV.
"Are you ready for work tomorrow?" Matt asks casually.
"Hm? Oh. Yeah." I smile up at him. "We're about to start preparing the Christmas campaign so I should be pretty busy. I might get to plan the Christmas party this year."
"Christ, good luck to them." He turns to Noah. "She used to throw these ridiculous parties when we were in school - all out every time, for absolutely no reason. One time this boy broke up with her and she threw a divorce party."
Noah laughs and I smile with them both.
"You had fun, didn't you?"
"The divorce balloons were too much," he states. "What time do you need to be at work?"
"Nine. You really don't have to take me though, Noah."
"Oh it's no bother," he smiles. "I love driving, and I can start work whenever."
We pick at our food for a short while, all peering back at the TV intermittently.
Noah is quieter tonight, reserved and soft looking in baggy clothes. There's a gentle patter of rain against the kitchen door and I notice that there are droplets of water clinging to his hair.
Matt clears his throat.
"We have people coming around on Tuesday," he informs me. "Game night. It's a weekly thing."
I nod, smiling. My mind whirs immediately, wondering where I can scurry off to if they need the house.
"I can work late, it's no problem," I tell him. "Do your thing."
Noah's eyebrow raises and then they draw together as if pulled by a string.
"Mads, you're invited." Matt scoffs. "God, you think I'm gonna kick you out to get pissed with my mates, you moron?"
I throw a chip at him.
"They're nice. From Uni. I'd say you'll like them, but she never likes my mates." He directs that to Noah who chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he glances at my brother before shaking his head.
"That so?" He smirks.
"Mum always wanted her to get with one of them."
My fork scrapes against the plate, unable to help the laugh that leaves my lips: "I didn't know you knew that!"
"Your mum tried to set you up with one of his friends?" Noah asks.
"Not set me up," I smile around my fork. "She just wanted to me to date someone smart."
"Smart or not, I didn't like it," Matt huffs. "Can you even imagine? I think I'd genuinely kill myself." I roll my eyes at him. "I'm not even kidding Maddie, the thought of you getting it on - no. Absolutely not. Gross."
I eye Noah for a split second, but he's looking down at his food, pushing it around the plate.
"Remember Liam?" Matt asks me.
I nod.
Liam was one of those friends in high school.
He was sweet, with this chocolate brown hair and puppy eyes, and he was always talking about electronics and some equation or another.
He told me once that he wanted to be an engineer.
It was in our final year of school, at the start, and then I didn't see much of him around the house after that.
"He had a thing for you."
My head shoots up. Noah is grimacing.
"He told Brad who told Lindsay who told me."
The information turns in my head and I feel a tilt in my neck as I look at the scowl on his face.
"You stopped speaking to him."
It's not even a question. I already know.
I couldn't place my finger on it until he'd said it, but Liam had suddenly stopped coming around the house. Those puppy eyes were no more and I'd barely even noticed.
Matt shrugs. I swallow the food in my mouth.
"You wouldn't want your mates shagging me, would you?"
I gulp and copy Noah, pushing the food around my plate.
Suddenly Noah doesn't seem so panty-dropping gorgeous anymore, because he's not Noah Laurier, he's Matt's Friend.