Chapter Four
Noah winds up his window once I'm in the car and presses a button that immediately makes my seat begin warming up. I melt into it as we pull into the street.
"Good day?" I ask him.
"Are we going to having this same conversation every evening?" He muses. I scoff at him; I was merely being polite. "It was decent. I got to work on a Range Rover that only came out last year. How was your day?"
"Better now that I'm here," I sigh, sinking further into the seat. He goes quiet, and I elaborate: "In the heated seats. Your car. It's nice."
"Long day?" He observes. I watch his fingers twist around the gear-stick and tighten when he pulls the car into fifth gear.
"A lot of meetings."
"And a bit of eyeliner to go with them?"
I blush, having forgot about that briefly. I haven't looked at myself yet, but thankfully I trust that Chelsea wouldn't make me look like a clown.
"We'll probably skip dinner tonight. Do you want me to swing through the drive-thru?"
"Please," I breathe. I see him nod in my peripherals, and he swings round the roundabout once more before taking a different exit. "Thanks for driving me around. I can give you some petrol money tonight if you'd like."
His lips purse.
"How many times am I going to have to tell you that I don't mind driving you around?"
"You see cars all day. I just thought you might get a bit sick of them."
He grins and shakes his head. There's that dimple again, deep set into his cheek.
I recognise the drive-thru from Sunday morning, but this time as we pull around to it two bright orange cones stop us in our tracks. It's closed. Noah sighs and drives past them, to the car park.
Watching him reverse into a parking space should not be as sexy as I find it, but the skill of it all and the lip that's sucked into his mouth when he pulls the handbrake up makes my hands clench.
"Guess we'll have to go in," he smiles.
"At least I'm not getting crumbs in your car." I nudge him. We walk to the entrance side by side.
"You've already got your hair all over it anyway. I can't go five minutes without pulling a ginger hair out of the vents or some shit."
I laugh. His eyes follow my hands as they run through my hair, pulling it over my shoulders so it frames my face.
He holds the door open for me, and we use a quick-pay machine to order our food.
I pay before Noah can, grumbling about petrol and driving and letting me use his hoodie so he doesn't have room to argue with me.
We take the food back out to his car and I sink back into my seat - still warm from the drive.
I don't even wait for him before diving into my fries, putting three in my mouth at a time.
"You put food away like a dude."
"Don't be so sexist," I laugh around the mouthful. I hand him his burger, and try not to look at the way his legs are spread out wide in the small space under the steering wheel. "So what does game night entail?"
"It's a little lame," he warns me. "We get drunk and argue about monopoly, for the most part. I hope you're ready for a hangover tomorrow."
"I'm decent at monopoly."
"Decent isn't good enough if you're playing against me," he winks. I almost swoon.
He reaches his hand out and I blink at it briefly before reaching into the bag of food and pulling out his fries. He takes them wordlessly.
"You're all talk, Noah."
He turns in his seat, outwardly looking me up and down until I'm squirming in the seat.
"I'll go easy on you," he decides, stating it quietly as if it's a secret. "Since you're Matt's sister and all."
Right. That.
We talk casually about work and Matt's friends while we finish our food. Noah shoves all of the rubbish in the back seat before driving us back home using a shortcut.
I have to rush to get ready while he picks up Matt from work and only manage to get on a video call with Chelsea as I'm straightening my hair.
She grins, smile wide and teeth sparkly white, as she answers. Her hair is pinned up into curlers and there's a clay face mask covering her pale skin.
"Your make-up looks great. It's not too much - I think the eyeliner looks fit."
"You would, you goth bitch."
"Oh ha-ha." She drawls. "I'm so jealous of your freckles."
We go through some outfits in a rush after my hair, settling on a pair of loose trousers and a V-neck cotton shirt that clings to my figure. I had to convince her away from a bodycon dress I wore when I was eighteen, and she calls me boring.
I know when Matt and his friend arrive because there's a sudden burst of noise downstairs, and I quickly brush through my hair once more in the mirror.
"I'd fuck you, Mads. Stop panicking."
Chelsea is lying on her bed now, painting her nails green so they match the strip in her hair. Her feet wave around behind her, clad in neon pink socks. The face mask has dried a light grey colour, completely washing her out on camera.
"Maddie?" Matt calls up the stairs.
"Down in a minute!" I call back in return.
"You know," Chelsea sings. "You didn't tell me that your brothers housemate looks like a bloody model. Like, damn hot."
My cheeks burn under the makeup I'm wearing.
"I'm going now."
I hang up before she can try to embarrass or pry information out of me further, and try to shove my make-up and appliances in the cabinet under the sink so they aren't in the way.
There's hair on the bathroom floor that I attempt to shove into a corner with my foot, but it's useless. There's too much of it.
The boys will have to cope.
The living room is full when I get downstairs and I feel exposed as I walk through the door to greet everyone.
"My sister, Maddie," Matt introduces, and I get everyone's names in turn.
Matt pats the couch where there's a small space left between him and Noah. I try not to let my face burn as my calves brush Noah's knees when I walk around him and drop down next to his body.
Our sides press together.
"You didn't have to dress up," Matt says quietly, thankfully only for my ears. "It's casual."
I scowl at him and hit the side of his leg with my own.
It's casual. I casually want your housemate to eye-fuck me all night, thank you very much.
Noah's arm snakes from where it's squished against my side and travels around the back of the sofa. I swear I feel one of his fingers briefly brush against my hair.
One of the two women in the room, both sat in front of the TV, smiles at me and holds out a pink can. The swirly writing along the side of it tells me it's pre-mixed gin and tonic.
"Thanks," I say, reaching out to grab it. "It's Sara, right?"
"Yup." She's pretty, with her deep auburn hair and puffy lips. Her glasses fall down her nose and she pushes them up with one finger. "Matt speaks very highly of you."
I feel him stiffen next to me and nudge his arm.
"You do?"
"He didn't mention how pretty you are." The only new boy in the room drawls. He's sitting on a beanbag I didn't know they owned, with his legs spread wide too. He winks when I look over to him, eyes dropping to the deep V off my cotton t-shirt.
"Shut the fuck up, dude." I'm surprised, because it's not Matt's voice that says it, but Noah's. "And put your fucking eyes away before Matt rips them out."
His hand touches my thigh, and my head shoots up to look at him.
He recoils immediately. The guy who spoke, Dan, is already on the defense, muttering about compliments and toxic masculinity.
I know the thigh touch was meant to be a comfort after being ogled, but my skin still burns under my trousers from his touch.
I open my can of gin and let them argue it out.
"We should play something new to get to know you better, Maddie," the other girl, Skye, says politely, also sipping on a can of gin and tonic.
"Never have I ever-"
"No," Matt commands instantly.
"Matthew, you're such a prude," Skye laughs.
"This is my sister. I don't want to know."
"Tough." Skye smiles at him. There's a spark in his eye, and I know immediately that he has a soft spot for her. Sara and I share a look which immediately makes me feel more at ease.
Noah's thigh is still pressed tight against mine.
He looks too different to be friends with these people. Full of tattoos and double their width in muscle. Brooding in comparison with their light easy smiles. Now that I'm so close to him, I can see a black tattooed snake crawling behind his ear.
These people look like accountants. Accountants who have adopted Matt's best friend as one of their own, evidently. Because he laughs (occasionally) and drinks with them and even though he doesn't say much, his eyes are bright.
"Right, okay." Skye puts her drink on the table. "Never have I ever... fallen asleep on the bus."
"That felt personal." The third guy, Dan, groans after he's taken a drink.
They get progressively worse and we all get progressively more drunk. Eventually, my second turn rolls around. During my first turn, I'd been tame for Matt's sake, playing it safe by playfully making him have to drink.
This time, there's a fog in my brain and I've got to know.
"Never have I ever kissed anyone in this room."
"Ouch," Noah hisses, but he doesn't drink. Skye, Dan and Matt do. "Double ouch."
Noah stretches out one of his legs and pulls his arm from around the couch, opening another drink that he gets from the table.
"Never have I ever..." He contemplates. "Wanted to kiss someone in this room."
Well fuck me.
"That's harsh man," Dan says, but he leans back and drinks again. One by one, each person in the room drinks. Noah doesn't. I don't.
As Dan begins to think aloud for his turn, Noah turns to look at me, and promptly takes a drink, shrugging.
I do the same.
I'm not sure if it's part of the game or not. I try to push it to the back of my mind as we continue playing.
Matt finds out more about me than he needs to, and I feel the same way as the game fizzles out.
Everyone's talking easier, drinks are flowing faster and seem never-ending, and as I lean forward to check-mate Sara in our joint game of chess, she grins and tells me that this'll happen again next week at her house and she'd love it if I could join them.
It feels easy as the night goes on. Like they're my friends as well as Matt's.
Sara and Skye even take me to the bathroom with them when they go, 'so the boys can talk about us,' Skye winks.
We take turns peeing. It's like I'm at university all over again.
When we stumble back downstairs, the boys are all sat at the front door getting some fresh air, giggling quietly about something.
I stumble out between Matt and Noah, tripping over my own feet. Noah reaches up and grabs the sides of my body to steady me. His hands splay across my thighs, his fingers pressing into the front of my legs. I hear my own stilted breath and wonder if he does too.
"Be careful," he warns, as he lets go of me. He gives me a pointed look and shoves his hands into his pockets.
I lean against the wall and look up at the stars.
My head is foggy. I wish the night would never end.
Later, when everyone has piled into a taxi and gone home, Matt collapses at my feet on the sofa. He rubs my ankle and then taps my foot twice.
"Don't get sentimental on me," I warn him.
Noah's snort can be heard from the kitchen.
"I should've invited you over here more," Matt says, smiling at me softly. I hit him with one of the cushions, laughing at him rather than with him. "My friends really like you. I missed hanging out with you."
"Go to bed bro."
"I love having you here, Maddie," he slurs.
"You're a moron."
But I'm grinning, and suddenly I don't have so many complaints about being here either. It's nice to reconnect with him. To feel like brother and sister again after so many years of only contacting each other through mum because we're too busy with our own lives to text once in a while.
He gives my ankle another pat and Noah drags him up to bed.
·─────?? ??─────·
The boys are shushing each other in the kitchen early the next morning and my head throbs as soon as I feel consciousness take over my body.
I groan, the two of them suddenly falling silent.
"You're a soppy drunk by the way." I hear Noah whisper. There's a scuffle and a breathy laugh. "I thought you were always just a horny little shit, but apparently you're a bit soft for your sister, aren't you?"
"Shut the fuck up man," Matt laughs. "She's a good person."
I stick my head up and glare at them both, but they have their backs to me. Noah looks broad in his t-shirt, stretched across his shoulders as if it's a size too small. But he's double the size of Matt, and he towers him despite Matt being 5'11.
I briefly wonder how they even became friends when they met at that uni bar. They're ying and yang, and right now they're still shushing and pushing each other around as if they're school children.
"Ladies," I croak. I clear my throat with a cough as they both turn to me. "Do you always drink that much on Tuesdays? I feel like shit."
"You look like shit."
I flip Matt off and reach over to the table for my phone.
More than enough time to shower and get ready; even a little extra time to complain about my head-splitting hangover in the process.
"Do you mind if we leave a little early today?" I ask Noah. He smiles at me, I already know he's going to say yes. "Wednesday is my day to get the coffee."
"You don't have a coffee machine at work?" He asks.
"We do, but it's watery and tastes gritty. Five of us take turns buying the rounds."
"That is the most corporate thing I have ever heard, Maddie," Matt chimes in. I wish there was more stuff around to throw at him.
Instead of looking for something that could do a bit of damage, like the TV remote, I will myself to get up and shower. The room smells like alcohol and there are still empty cans everywhere I look - part of me hopes one of them has cleaned up by the time I'm finished with work.
The more realistic part knows I'll be the one to sort it later.
Matt moans that I take too long in the shower, and then complains that my hair has blocked the drain.
Noah is still in his pajama bottoms and that muscle tee when I get back downstairs.
"No work?"
"Wednesday is my convenient day off. Best hangover cure."
I scowl at my sudden jealously of him which only makes him smile into a spoonful of yogurt.
"I'm still your taxi though, don't worry."
"You like it. Apparently."
"I'd say I only like it for girls that are pretty." I choke on the water I'd just filled a mug with. He shrugs, puts another spoonful of yogurt in his mouth before adding, "but Matt wouldn't like to hear that. So."
"It's a predictable line anyway, Laurier."
"Alright, Grayson," he scoffs. "Hurry up and get those stupid heels on, or we'll be late."
"They happen to look very classy in my fancy office."
"You're all things classy, aren't you?"
"I'm classier than you."
Matt returns before he can argue, complaining about banking and numbers and customer service.
He passes me two painkillers before we all leave to begin the new daily commute.
I don't manage to call shotgun this time so I'm stuck in the back watching Matt enjoy my heated seat and the blasting hot air coming out of the vents.
Noah catches my pout in the mirror, silently laughing at my loss as he reverses out into the street.
He looks good for a hungover guy. Too good. It makes my knotty hair and puffy skin embarrassing.
His stubble has grown slightly longer over the past couple of days, beginning to give him that 5 o'clock shadow that male celebrities would likely sell their soul for. His hair is curly, unruly and unkempt but continues to frame his sculpted face beautifully.
If I still looked that good after a night of heavy drinking I'd probably already have a boyfriend by now, and I wouldn't be pining about some boy who offers to drive me around.
He taps the front seat once we've dropped Matt off outside the bank.
I accept the invitation gladly, and am grateful when he turns the hot air to max once I've put on my seatbelt.
The silence is comfortable this time. My headache welcomes it with open arms.
When we reach my office I blindly get out of the car and begin walking towards the coffee shop down the street.
"Where the fuck are you going?"
His voice is rough, calloused, unusually dry. It sends a shiver down my spine.
I turn to the road, where he's trailing me slowly with his window down. Cars are beginning to line up behind him, but his eyes stay trained on me.
It shouldn't be hot, the way his stare doesn't leave me. But I find myself gulping under the intensity of it.
"Coffee run," I remind. "It's down the street."
"Then get back in the car, you muppet."
His eyes don't leave me.
"It's just down the-"
The person behind him honks their horn. My head throbs, I refrain from shouting expletives at the old woman who probably doesn't have any place to be other than at Aldi, doing her weekly shop on a Wednesday morning.
I get back into the car and he drives slowly, as if he enjoys pissing the working people off behind us.
It takes less than a minute for us to reach the coffee shop, Noah managing to snag a parking spot in front of the shop next to it as if the stars align for him and only him.
"I could do with a coffee or three," he says as he turns off the ignition, pulling the handbrake up slowly. I watch his arm as he does. "Come on."
"I'm never drinking on a Tuesday again."
When we're stood in line, he leans down so his mouth is near my ear, and plainly states: "We'll take it easy at Sara's house, yeah?"
I shiver at his breath on my neck. It's possibly the hottest thing I've ever felt whilst hungover.
He stands tall once he's said it, placing his hand at the small of my back to motion me forward when the line moves. I let him push me gently along, glad for all the help I can get.
"This is too busy of a work-week for me to feel this crappy." I moan.
"Christmas preparation in November seems extreme," he murmurs.
The man behind us is on a phone call and he doesn't sound too pleased at whatever he's hearing.
I turn to look at him, but Noah's touch on my back gently presses me forward again.
I rattle off my order to the smiling barista like clockwork.
"Your poison?" I ask Noah.
"A vanilla latte."
I shake my head at the coincidence and add it to my order. It takes a while for all of the drinks to be ready, as we stand with each other looking like zombies - him one that could probably star in some dystopian zombie apocalypse film. I'd be one of the extras that dies too quickly.
He helps me carry the drinks. And then he drives me back down the street with them, despite it being more trouble to turn the car around than to just walk three minutes down the road.
Once I'm in the elevator I let my head droop again, wishing I'd called in sick and cuddled up on the sofa watching crappy 90's rom-com's all day. Maybe against Noah's side, if he'd allow it...
I do the coffee round. The team seem too wrapped up in our busy schedule to notice how hungover I am, which I'm incredibly grateful for. Except Chelsea, who allows herself five minutes to grill me before she has to get on with the campaign.
I sip the vanilla latte as I open up my emails and begin doing my daily responses. Hopefully the work is mindless enough that the day passes by me.
·─────?? ??─────·
Noah messages me at five on the dot, at which time it seems the entire office walks out in drones of exhaustion. Chelsea waves me away from her desk when I try to say goodbye, a list of something or other on her screen and a collection of numbers scribbled on a notepad in front of her.
"Make sure you clock your overtime before you leave," I gently remind her, already walking away from her desk.
"Thanks Mads. See you tomorrow. Tell Noah I said uhhhh." The people that remain in the office turn to look at her exaggerated faux moan and my cheeks burn red as I walk past them all.
Noah looks more put together this evening. I'm jealous that he's probably had time to wash his hair and watch crappy TV.
He gives me that familiar killer smile as I walk through the glass door.
"The heat is on."
I practically moan as I sink into the heated leather.
"Your car turns me on," I tell him.
He leans over me and pulls the seatbelt around my body, but says nothing. I keep my eyes closed and let the warm air blow over my face and through my hair.
"Good day?"
"Hungover day."
"I actually managed to drag myself to the gym today."
"I'm very sad I missed that."
Watching you workout, that is, not working out myself.
His laughter is infectious which means I can't help but smile to myself.
"I haven't seen Smoosh since I met him." My eyes snap open, my head rolling towards him. He glances at me, grinning closed-mouth with fire behind his eyes, and then looks back at the road as if he didn't just light up my stomach like fireworks. "You're surely not hiding him from me now?"
"Shut up, Noah."
"Come on. I think it's sweet. I remember when I was a rebel child too, you know."
I eye him. The tattoos. The messy hair. The killer grin that melts my anger.
"I don't doubt that for a second."
"Now that's presumptuous. At least haggle with me a little." He laughs. I close my eyes again. "It's cute you wanted something so bad you stole it. Ruined that kids whole day, I'm sure."
"I don't even remember it. Matt does. He could be making the whole thing up, for all I know - maybe he's the one who stole it."
"I highly doubt that."
He pulls into the driveway and switches off the car, and then his headlights. He turns his whole body to look at me, my breath catching in my throat.
He sighs.
"I think I should be allowed to see Smoosh."
It's not what I expected so it brings a loud, ugly laugh out of my mouth that makes him laugh too. I shake my head, reaching for the handle.
With a faster reaction time that I can comprehend, he locks the doors.
"You're being creepy," I say.
"You're withholding the sheep."
I sigh, pretending I'm bothered by the big show he's putting on and that it's ruining my day when really I'm just glad to be out of the office and in the comfort of his BMW.
Instead of unlocking the door at the source, I lean in towards him; I put on the most serious face I can muster and gesture with a finger for him to lean in closer.
He leans in over the console, staring into my eyes.
I wait a second, two.
"You may have Smoosh for one night," I whisper.
His face is so close I could move a mere centimeter and rub my nose against his, but the moment doesn't feel romantic, and he's grinning again.
"Deal." He returns the whisper. "Tonight. The sheep and I will cook dinner."
I lean away from him and unlock the door with the tab at the top, rolling my eyes as I step out of the car and towards the front door.
He doesn't follow me until it's unlocked, and even then, he rushes past me and upstairs into the bathroom once I'm through the door.
I find Smoosh tucked away in one of my bags and leave him on the kitchen counter.