Chapter Seventeen
Our conjoined hands lay over the gear stick, mine nestled underneath his like he's trying to hide it from the world. His thumb occasionally strokes over my own and I watch the bone tattooed down his finger move with the action.
I overthink it. Don't I always?
It's pitch black out as we make the drive home. Streetlamps look blurry in my peripherals when we pass by them, trees looming over the roads like shadows. There's a chill in the air that can be felt even in the comfort of Noah's heated seats.
Quiet music plays through the speakers, Noah of course singing along quietly as usual.
It's all incredibly familiar to me despite the short time that I've known Noah, and I'm fully aware that I'm beginning to make myself too comfortable around him, as he is me.
I mean, we're practically holding hands right now.
Despite my thoughts, when his thumb strokes over mine once more, I curl mine up around his hand and stroke back. He doesn't look back at me but his lip upturns.
"Thanks for dessert... and the movie."
He breaks out in that killer smile at my words.
Another hand squeeze, "anytime."
It dawns on me all at once. My eyes widen, my breath hitches, and I scoot up in the seat so my back is straight. This is a date. It may be disguised as a 'friend date' but this is a date-date. A date that we are fast approaching the end of.
I've never been on a date before. Boys didn't date me - I mean, they went out with me and took me home, but they never took me anywhere extravagant or offered to pay for my meal.
A large McDonald's meal is the most extravagant thing I was ever offered in terms of a date, and it wasn't even the meal that I wanted at the time because I was going off burgers.
(At one point in my adolescent life I believed I could be a devout vegetarian. I could not.)
Noah even payed. For everything. I never thought to offer.
And now we're holding hands and once again I am panicking at the way he makes me feel. I'm getting flutters I'm not used to - and not just between my legs.
Another hand squeeze.
We're pulling into the drive and he's shifting the gears down as we gently pull to a stop. Hand removed from mine, handbrake up, ignition turned off.
We both remain seated. Slowly, his hand returns to my own.
I glance at him but he doesn't look back at me, just continues staring at the living room window. The curtains are as closed as we left them, the house looking dead outside with not a sound to be heard but our soft breaths.
"Okay," I breathe, because if I say something else I might say something he doesn't want to hear. He nods and releases me, both of us getting out of the car at the same time.
He walks around the car and presses the central lock button, gesturing to the front door.
I feel a smile shy cross my lips as I brush past him, his hand pressing gently to the small of my back leading me towards the house.
"This has been really nice," I whisper.
He grins and leans around me to put his key in the lock.
"I'm serious," I press with my own grin, meeting his eye just as the key clicks into place.
He meets my eye, arm still hovering over my shoulder to reach for the door, and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. My smile vanishes as his does.
The wind bites at my legs through the leggings.
The bushes surrounding the driveway rustle with the passing breeze.
Somewhere in the distance a car door slams and a man can be faintly heard having a disgruntled one-sided conversation.
I feel hyper aware of every sound that surrounds us but at the same time my ears fill with water, and all I can hear is my own breath as Noah continues to give me a look I've seen before.
I've seen this exact look in this exact position, stood at my own door after a date, waiting for the kiss that will reveal all. The first kiss that tells me if the "date" was really worth it.
All boys look the same when they're about to kiss you. They have a certain mischief in their eyes, a cocky sparkle that says they think the McDonald's big mac was enough to get into your pants, and an invisible fishhook pulls at a corner of their mouth without it ever turning into a smirk.
They lean in after they've closed their eyes. Slowly. Painfully. Their mouths open before they're even halfway towards you and you have to close your eyes too before you cringe at the initiation.
Noah doesn't do any of that. He doesn't look cocky at all; if anything, he looks torn between myself and the door, peering between us like he's choosing between two pairs of shoes before an important job interview.
There's no eye-closing and painfully slow lean-in. No head tilting towards mine. Just a soft stare that threatens to break inside my soul and rest there forever.
He sighs.
The door wins.
His hand begins twisting the key as he breaks eye contact, but I won't let that happen. Not after this first date. A true first date, with someone who puts more thought into it than getting to the closest dark car park.
With newfound confidence I put my hand on his arm and stop that key twisting any further. The rustling leaves encourage me as I line my body against his, reaching around his waist to pull his stomach to my own.
He bumps against me clumsily, eyes searching mine, and finally reaches down with both hands. They press against both of my cheeks, cold, and hold my head in place.
He doesn't close his eyes as he leans in. Instead his eyes don't leave mine, moving slowly but not awkwardly. Slowly to gauge my reaction. Slowly to study how cheeks redden, how my eyes shine back at him, how my mouth parts.
And then we're kissing.
Relaxed. Tender. Gentle.
His mouth moves delicately against my own, brushing his lips against mine like the wind might carry us both away in the moment.
His hands cover both of my cheeks easily, warming up under the blush of my skin.
It's not how I expected Noah Laurier to kiss. But it's soft like he is, muted around the edges so you melt into it without even realising.
It's over too quickly. Our lips part but our bodies don't.
His fingers stroke my skin as he presses his forehead to my own, eyes still closed.
I reach up and touch his face too, feel the burning skin underneath my finger tips.
I feel the slight stubble growing on his chin and the sharpness of his jaw.
My thumb melts into the dimple that appears on his cheek as he breaks into a small smile.
"You taste like ice cream."
I don't even register that the words have left my mouth until he huffs a laugh.
"So do you," he admits quietly.
I blink up at him, mirroring the grin as we pull apart. I expect him to reach for the key again but he just purses his lips at me with narrowed eyes.
"What?"
I reach to push back pieces of my hair from my face and wipe the corners of my mouth, but the look on Noah's face doesn't change. Eventually I let myself fall back into the door, waiting for him to finish his long once-over.
"Now who's got a staring problem-"
Before I can get another word out his lips are back on mine, harder this time, demanding an open mouth as he presses me back into the door. I'll gladly allow it.
His tongue is in my mouth and mine is in his, and I'm blinded by the feeling of his body against mine as he pushes into me once more; so blinded that I lift my leg up around him, squeezing until he reaches underneath it and hikes me up so I'm wrapped around his hips.
My head bounces against the door. It doesn't matter, because the way Noah kisses me blinds me to the sting that it brings. His soothing hand that pushes through my hair and separates my head from the door makes me want to melt into his body forever and never return.
We kiss and we kiss and we kiss.
The curls are as soft as I thought they'd be. I curl them around my fingers and keep his lips on mine with a grip tight enough that he makes a small sound in my mouth. It pours fuel on the fire lit within me, and I can't help myself as I gently bite his bottom lip.
"Christ." A soft whisper, one lost in my mouth and then along my jaw as it's littered with kisses. My elbow knocks against the wood behind me, my jacket scratching against the surface as I drop down the door slightly.
Noah's mouth goes to my neck. His hands dance over my skin, touching here and there and lingering nowhere long enough. I pull his lips back to my own and moan as he rolls his body against me.
The door rattles behind us as he bounces me up his body and puts a strong hand underneath me to keep me from falling down again.
Our lips are slick against each other and for a second I'm sure we're going to start undressing and unleash all this built up tension right here against the door.
There are flashing images of him in my mind; with his shirt off, with that towel on, that time I gave him a hard-on without even touching him.
My arm bumps against the door again. And again.
And then the door handle crunches behind me, and I'm being dropped against it as if I suddenly weigh four times my own body weight. I fall over a step and hear an 'oof' from a voice that slices through the atmosphere we've created around us.
Matt catches me with one arm, the other still on the inside door handle.
"Oh my God!" Noah's voice is squeaky and high, trailing off with uncertainty.
I look between he and Matt with wide, guilty eyes as I steady myself and brush out my crinkled jacket. I wipe my mouth before I speak.
"Hi!" My own voice is squeaky too. Matt frowns at me, eyebrows drawn together as if with string. "We- the door! You need to get a new door... bro."
"Bro?" He snorts.
"That door is - broken. Stuck. Very sticky."
"It opened fine for me?" He looks quizzically at the lock, then at Noah's key half turned in it. "Did you try turning your key all the way?"
"Ha," Noah spits. My eyes widen further. I'm frozen watching the scene play out in front of me, how obviously guilty and uncomfortably we're both acting. "I must not have. I'm really..."
"Stupid," I supply.
"Stupid," he echoes. His chest deflates with a long silent breath. Matt continues looking at the lock, jiggling both sides of the handle and turning Noah's key like he's studying what must've gone wrong.
We're very, very stupid.
Noah approaches the two of us like an injured animal. He can't seem to look at me or Matt as he passes us, but his shoulder does brush past me gently. His hand is tucked into his pocket.
Matt takes the key out of the lock and uses it to close the door behind us.
I'm unsure if the tension in the air is felt by all of us or just me and Noah, but I hope it doesn't read on my face as Matt frowns between the two of us again.
I reach for the living room door but pause when he shakes his head, leaning into the wall with a long groan.
"Where the fuck have you guys been?" Matt whispers with a whine. Noah and I are too quick to look at each other, but he doesn't notice. "Skye was absolutely wasted when I got to her house."
"Oh?"
There's a breath of relief there somewhere, it just doesn't want to leave my body yet.
"Yeah, oh." Matt groans once more. He looks between the two of us again. "I mean, blackout. I told her I wouldn't - and she asked me to stay with her, but I was too sober to deal with her so I brought her back here with me."
"She's here?" Noah asks. "Now?"
Matt gestures to the living room with a lazy wave.
"I was scared she'd pass out and throw up or something. She's already been sick twice tonight." The three of us grimace in sync. "And you guys weren't even here to help deal with her."
Once again, he's a whiny child. A whiny child who has completely cockblocked me in more ways than one, because not only am I not allowed to get it on with Noah, I can barely catch a break when I try to do it in secret.
"We caught a movie," Noah explains, shrugging. "I didn't think you'd be home tonight."
"Yeah, well." Another gesture to the living room door.
The three of us walk in. The smell of alcohol hits me immediately, mixed with a greasy burnt food smell that makes my nose twitch.
Skye immediately swivels towards us, almost falling out of the kitchen chair shes sat in. A wide, uneven grin greets us all.
"Hey!" She sings. "You guys are home!"
Matt rolls his eyes, going unnoticed by Skye. Noah doesn't look too pleased either, with a certain pinch in his face that reveals his lack of patience with the situation.
I almost want to blame her. If she didn't get blackout Matt wouldn't have brought her back here, they'd still be at her place doing God knows what and Noah and I could have the house to ourselves to continue what we started.
It would be unfair to blame her, but that doesn't mean I can't lack patience for her inebriation either.
"Are you ready for more dry toast?" Matt asks, ignoring her grabby hands as he walks past her and into the kitchen. There are half-eaten bits of toast all over the place now that I'm looking. "Drink your water."
"Your brother takes care of me," she sings again.
Noah and I share a side-eye look.
She tries to stand up, the chair falling behind her with a loud clatter that makes us all jump out of our skin.
Her knees buckle underneath her and her arms flair to hold onto the counter.
I stumble forward to grab any part of her I can grasp, clasping my fingers around her sequin top just before her head bashes into the chair she's fallen off.
She bursts into laughter.
"Fucking hell Matt," Noah groans. He rubs his hands over his eyes. "What can we even do with her?"
"Noah," Skye slurs. "You saved me."
"I'm Maddie," I reply. Another fit of laughter.
I put my arms underneath hers and start to pull her up again, letting her stumble into me as she continues to flail around dramatically.
Noah's arm slides around me and then her, keeping us in place.
"Skye, stand up properly," Matt sighs, eyeing the three of us warily. He at least looks a little sorry at putting me in this position, and if anything, at least he's not questioning Noah pressed against my back.
Skye ignores him and continues to fall over her own heels. They're full of straps and complicated looking, with glitter that's missing in places. I wonder why Matt didn't think to pry them off her feet as soon as she got into the house.
Noah ends up carrying her to the couch, and I curse Matt out as I undo her complicated shoes.
"Eat your toast," Matt is encouraging as I continue arguing with the straps.
She tends to take a bite, chew it for a while, and then spit some of it out as she inevitably finds something else completely hilarious. She washes it down with an amount of water that's bound to make her queasy later.
"You're all upset with me," Skye suddenly pouts, kicking me away from her now-bare feet playfully. "I'm not even-" hiccup. "Not even drunk."
"Nobody is upset with you," I tell her. "How was your night?"
She puts a hand to her chest, leaning forward like she's about to start crying. "Maddie," she elongates the word and sniffles. "It was so good. You- we should've invited you. I'm so sorry!"
"That's alright," I smile, patting her leg. Noah and Matt watch carefully from the kitchen. "I went to see a movie anyway."
She leans forward again, and grabs my face with both hands just as Noah had done before we kissed. My eyes must go wider than saucers, flitting back to the memory of his cold fingers pressed to my skin, but then I'm pulled to her face, tilted so her mouth is at my ear.
"I have. A secret."
"Skye," Matt calls, sounding as irritated as he looks.
"My secret is..." She whispers, giggling. I can smell the vodka on her breath from here, but continue to entertain her. "I have had S-E-X with your brother."
The laughter that follows almost deafens me.
Matt appears next to be, rubs my arm briefly in another sorrowful gesture, and leans down to talk to Skye.
I take the opportunity to leave them to it and sit on the now picked up stool next to Noah. He swivels towards me after a bored look at Matt, shaking his head. I shrug back at him.
"Where's she gonna sleep?" Noah suddenly asks.
Matt hands her another bit of toast and stands towards us. She paws at his back behind him.
"Well she can't stay with me," he says. Her protests are short lived as he reminds her to finish her water. "I don't want her to wake up and think anything happened in this state, you know?"
It's the smartest thing he's said since I moved in here.
"But Maddie can't sleep in my bed either," Matt huffs. "So?"
There's a pause. Skye's giggle breaks it.
Noah's voice is carefully neutral. "So your sister is staying in my bed?"
"She'll have to." He brushes Skye's hands off his ass. My heart just about beats out of my chest in anticipation of sharing a bed with Noah. "You'll share with me."
Ah. It was perhaps a little too good of a scenario I guess. Matt wouldn't actually let Noah and I share a bed, of course.
Although I will take pride in Noah's reflected disappointment.
Skye eventually falls asleep on the couch. The three of us whisper even though her snores indicate she's long gone. Matt puts blankets over her and leaves a bucket near her head, acting like a parent with a sick child as he locks all the doors and ushers Noah and I upstairs.
"Thanks for all the help, Mads," My cock-blocking brother whispers, leading me into Noah's room. I half-expect him to tuck me in too, but he just apologises about Skye once more before going into his own bedroom.
I feel in a daze as I slide under the covers in my clothes.
The curtains are still open, letting in a moonlight that casts dark shadows over the room. Some of Noah's clothes are discarded around the bed, his young face in the picture on the bedside table looming back at me.
I close my eyes and try not to think about him. It's impossible.
I'm replaying the few muttered sounds I got out of him in my head when he taps gently on the door, pushing through it slowly.
"My phone charger," he states, tilting his head towards the wire hung over the bedpost.
I nod back at him.
He walks over slowly, eyeing the open door behind him once or twice.
He pulls the curtains closed and then squats down next to the bed, eye level with me as he reaches behind the bedside table to pull out his charger.
"You're still wearing your jacket," his voice is quiet. I smile at the comment, enjoying the way the moonlight makes his hair look a bit blondish. "Come here."
Noah pulls me into a half seated position, and one arm at a time, removes my jacket for me. I lie back down once it's fully off, trying not to let my feelings for him shine through my eyes.
"You wear all that to bed?" He asks in the same quiet voice.
"Do you?"
I've missed that killer grin.
Slowly, teasingly, he pulls his shirt over his head. My own grin disappears, leaving a softly parted mouth in its place. It's just torture when he begins to undo his belt. He's slow enough that I could protest and see nothing, but I don't, and so the belt slides out of its loops.
He pops the button on his jeans. The zipper is the only sound in the house as he pulls it down, and then ever so quietly, pushes his jeans down his thighs. He doesn't hear me swallow as he steps out of them, leaving his clothes in a crumpled pile on the floor.
"I usually sleep in less," he whispers, thumb curling under the waistband of his boxers. "But I think this'll have to do if I'm sharing with your brother."
I twitch under the covers, press my thighs against each other as if that'll stop my pussy from throbbing at the sight of him. At the thought of him sleeping naked in this bed.
He has the nerve to smirk at me.
I want that smirk wiped off his face before I jump up and throw myself at him, so I sit up again and pull my own shirt over my head. Instead of that cocky smirk, I'm met with a bitten lip. He even takes a step back from the bed.
I shuffle under the covers and take off my leggings, dropping them onto the pile of his clothes.
I follow his eyes down to my bra. Simple - white, not pushing anything up or in. It's a wonder he's never seen me in anything less than regular clothes before. It's insane that Matt hasn't realised he isn't still in the bathroom yet.
It's even more insane that I find myself reaching behind my back, pushing the clasps of my bra together until they click free. He stares.
I bring my arms forward, gently reaching up to pull the straps from my shoulders. Continues staring. His eyes burn through my chest as the bra falls in front of me. I can feel the chill in the room against my nipples like ice.
He visibly swallows.
His cock takes outline in his boxers obviously, a tent forming so quickly that I almost miss the process. Neither of us looks into the others eyes.
As soon as he's fully hard, still not bothering to hide himself at all, I lean over the bed under his watchful stare and pick up his discarded t-shirt. I put it over one arm at a time and finally pull it over my head and exposed chest.
"I had a nice time tonight," I finally whisper. He nods, in a daze. It makes me want to smirk at him, too, seeing my effect on him. "See you in the morning, Noah."
After he's left the room, Noah doesn't get straight into bed with Matt. The shower runs for forty minutes.
His charger still rests on the bedside table.