Chapter Twenty Seven
My mother stutters when she first sets eyes on Noah.
Stutters.
He appears in the living room on boxing day mid-afternoon in sports gear. His hair is wet and pushed out of his face and his shirt is half-stuck against upper body. Muscles bulging. Tattoos on full display.
I forget how to breathe as my eyes dart over him.
For a second I don't remember that Noah actually lives here or that he's Matt's best friend.
Suddenly my heart is beating through my chest because I'm worried that I have to introduce Noah, my - person I'm sleeping with, to my parents.
I'm sweating. I have to tell them it started in a wardrobe in the house of a person I barely even know.
Or did it start before that?
"Hey!" Matt's voice breaks me out of the internal sweat. "You're home man, welcome back."
"I'm just dropping by," he smiles, like he's charming and not scary-as-fuck to strangers who don't know he's all dimples and curly hair with no bite.
He looks unnatural shaking Paul's hand.
Matt is excitedly introducing him to the family. Mum can't believe he exists.
I can't seem to stop staring. The kitchen feels like a warm blanket around my shoulders, shielding me from the warm family moment of Matt introducing his best mate to our parents, despite it being open plan and not actually shielding me from anything.
I hold the tea-towel and a wet bunch of spoons in my hands.
Only when my mother glances over to me do I bring the two together and continue drying the dishes.
They chat casually about anything and everything. Noah talks about meeting Matt at a bar, talks about work, about their friendship. While I'm making a pot of coffee and gathering a plate of pastries and cakes (as per my mothers instruction) Paul and he are talking about classic cars.
I try not to look at him as I carry coffees back and fore, eventually handing him his own - no milk, two sugars - and sitting in the empty space on the sofa.
Mum picks at a scone.
"So Noah," she begins. Matt and I share a look. "What's a young lad like yourself doing single, hm?"
"Mum, seriously."
I nod along with Matt, trying not to die from embarrassment.
Next to me Noah smiles, taking a sip of the coffee I know is scalding hot. It's the only indication that he isn't entirely comfortable with the question.
"I guess I'm waiting for the right girl to come along."
She likes that answer. A lot. She's nodding and grinning at me. Matt looks horrified, as he always did whenever one of his friends would come round after school and she'd start with the same line of questioning. Some things never change.
To my left, Noah snorts.
"I wish my son shared the same sentiment."
Matt says, "trying before you buy is not a crime."
"That sentence in itself is a crime," I scoff.
Noah's leg bumps against mine by accident and my breath hitches. I try to ignore his looming presence next to me as well as the familiar smell of the aftershave I really like that he's wearing.
"Maddie needs to move out."
"Oh shut up," Paul laughs. "You said just yesterday when she went to the bathroom that you've never been closer."
A wave of guilt crashes through my chest, pummels my rib cage into my ribs, elicits a painful bile feeling at the back of my throat. I squeeze my hand into a fist and grin as Matt stumbles over his words and tries to take them back.
"He thought you'd be out of place," Paul continues, directing his words at me now, "and annoying."
I laugh it off and hope the subject changes, glad when Matt asks my mum for the recipe of the cake he's eating.
I realise that my mug is empty now. I've been absentmindedly sipping at my coffee and finished it without even noticing. I get up to make another. If anything I just need a second to breathe without smelling that fucking aftershave.
How is it that my brother is telling our parents how amazing it's been to have me around and I can't even think straight because his best friend, who also happens to be his housemate, is sitting a few inches to my left. I'm possibly the worst sister in the world.
I take a few deep breaths while the kettle is boiling.
I don't even want to think about ending it. Does that make it worse? Is there any point feeling guilty when I'm not even going to entertain the idea of ending it? Perhaps that's hypocritical of me.
I won't justify it. I won't pretend that I'm not going to be looking for every opportunity to get Noah alone before he returns home either.
"Wow," my mum's whispered words enter my ear. "Wow!"
She places her empty mug next to mine and smiles widely at me as I put a spoonful of coffee grounds in it.
"Wow?"
"Madelaine," she deadpans. "I may be older but I'm not blind."
I pour the hot water into our mugs as she grabs the milk.
"I have no idea what you're referring to."
Our words are still whispered, drowned out by the boys chatting in the living room.
Mum looks back to them and then to me, a deadpan look across her features. I suck my upper lip into my mouth and try not to imagine myself sitting between Noah's outspread legs.
"Maddie, sweetheart."
I shake my head.
She stares at me, looks to Noah, back to me. Raises her eyebrows.
"The more you deny it the more I'm going to think you're seeing something there."
I huff. "He's..."
Hot. Caring. Perfect. There are a vast number of adjectives I could go with really.
The blood burning beneath my cheeks must give me away because she suddenly breaks out into an all-knowing smile. I shake my head and turn away from her to put sugar in our coffees, expecting the words to come. They never do.
Still with that grin plastered to her face, she goes back into the living room and re-takes her seat, joining their already lively conversation.
I bring her coffee over and try to ignore the look I get in response as I take my seat next to Noah.
We continue to spend time together as a family. Paul even puts some nature show on the TV as the night gets later. It's torture. Noah is sat within 5 feet of me and I can't even put my leg against his - or sit on his lap. Or seduce him.
I have to keep this plain smile on my face when all I want is for him to wipe it off me with his own mouth.
He's been here two hours when we finally interact.
Matt is in the kitchen and Paul and my mother are leant into each other and whispering, looking at something on his phone.
His hand brushes the entire length of my thigh, squeezes my hip, and disappears again. I lean into him briefly, check my parents and Matt aren't paying attention to us, and kiss his shoulder.
His whisper is quiet, quick and strained, "if I even look at you right now I'm going to do something to you that no parent should ever witness."
A hand loops into mine, squeezes, and pulls away again.
I try and fail to pay attention to the TV.
My parents leave for their hotel when it becomes pitch black outside, promising to return tomorrow before they set off for their 'post Christmas holiday'. Noah and I continue to pretend the other doesn't exist.
My mother hugs him before she leaves, whispers something in his ear that I know is about me because his eyes flit to mine once she pulls away.
There's a flickering emotion across his features that I can't put my finger on.
I hope for a moment alone with him when they've left; it doesn't come. Matt keeps his attention, wants to talk about Christmas and sports and what they're going to do for New Years.
Noah even frowns at me when Matt drags him upstairs to look at a gift he got like an excited puppy.
I scroll through my phone to take my mind off it.
Blatantly hoping he spends the night so I can sneak into his bed. Hoping he doesn't even go back to his parents at all and we can run off to have sex in his car whenever we damn well please.
I'm on the phone to Chelsea when my phone vibrates with a message.
"What was that?"
"I got a text," I tell her, pulling the phone away from my ear and seeing Noah's name.
"Ah - anyway, I don't want to stay in again. If you're my new year kiss two years in a row I think I'll actually have a meltdown. I'd rather tell my mum to set me up with that 'lovely young man' she works with who sounds like an actual bore."
"What happened to that guy you were seeing?"
"Keep up Mads, I ghosted him ages ago."
Ages ago could be yesterday in Chelsea's brain - one of the many reasons that it's impossible to keep up with her.
"Why?"
The text on my phone from Noah makes my fingers itch. I put her on loudspeaker and swipe open the message.
"Because," she huffs. "His accent made some words sound funny, and he used two-in-one body wash to wash his hair which is just incredibly disgusting. His mum still washed his undies. There are only so many red flags I can take.
Chelsea continues when I don't reply, "I can feel you silently judging my high standards right now. We can't all move in with tattooed sweethearts who fuck us into-"
Her voice turns tinny as I frantically turn her off loudspeaker. I check the living room door just in case - no sign of either of them.
"I have to go," I tell her once the phone is back at my ear. "Tattooed sweetheart requests my presence."
She lets me hang up only when I promise I'll call her again before I go to sleep.
I take the stairs two at a time.
The hairs on my arm straighten in anticipation. My mouth waters. There are tingles in places there shouldn't be considering Matt is only a closed door away. I already want to undo the button on my jeans.
I don't even bother knocking, just twisting the door handle and let myself in.
I'm half-expecting Noah to be naked on the bed already. In my mind we're already fucking as quietly as we possibly can, he's already pulling my hair aside and leaving a trail of kisses along my neck. Thick fingers are being pushed inside-
But he's dressed. He's staring wide eyed at me and pressing his teeth together in a sort of grimace.
Matt is sat on the bed next to him.
"You can't knock?" He scoffs.
"It's alright-"
"I'm so sorry-"
Noah and I speak over each other. Shit. Shit. Fuck.
"Sorry," I repeat, pulling that same face back at him. "I forgot you were even - I've been..."
Oh God.
Matt is staring at me expectantly. Waiting for me to explain my interruption.
A lightbulb moment.
"I'm looking for you," I tell Matt. His eyes continue burning into me. Noah is as wide eyed as I assume I am. "You weren't in your room or... anywhere. I just wanted to make sure you were alright after everything with Skye last night."
"Skye?" Noah echoes.
When Matt flops into the bed I widen my eyes even more, turning to Noah with what I can only assume is the most bewildered look he's ever seen me wear.
I'm sorry, he mouths. He just came back.
Probably for the best that Chelsea made me late to the party then. Matt probably doesn't knock either - he could've walked in on anything. I guess I should've probably realised that sooner. Bedroom does not equal safe.
"She drunkenly entrapped me into explaining her to my mother," Matt whines. "Honestly, if mum see's one more girl hanging off my neck she's going to start getting ideas."
"We're long past that," I find myself muttering.
I take a seat at the foot of Noah's bed as Matt begins ranting about yesterday evening. Skye is annoying, she's clingy, she's drunk all the time-
"Don't you think you should be saying this to her?"
"To her face?" Matt snorts. Noah's rigid look only elicits an eye roll from Matt.
"Or do you enjoy having her around when all other options aren't satisfactory?"
"More big words," I breathe, but I may as well be back downstairs.
This is obviously a conversation Matt and Noah have had countless times before because they seem to be launching into arguments that they're both armed to defend. Perhaps Noah has forgotten that I'm here - vagina at the ready - to spend some alone time with him.
Matt continues to complain. I stop listening eventually - it's nothing he hasn't said a thousand times before.
Minutes go past (possibly hours. Matt has a terrible habit of going on and on and on and... well, it can be never ending).
"Isn't it late?" He hums suddenly. "Didn't you say your parents were expecting you home?"
Noah's eyes dangerously flit to me. Matt doesn't notice.
"I might stay a little longer."
Matt announces, "Far too late for that. Maddie has been using your bed anyway and she looks knackered."
"I've had two coffees." Weak argument.
"My lovely company will await your return before the new year," Matt grins, already kicking Noah's feet off the bed. "I'm tired anyway."
Because of course the world revolves around my fucking brother.
He is tired and therefore Noah has no other reason to stay.
I shouldn't really be getting frustrated with Matt as I am the one sleeping with his best friend, but I can't help the bubbling feeling of anger building at the center of my chest.
My heart rate continues to soar when Noah stands up. He doesn't look at me as he picks up a readily made bag and gives Matt some final Skye-related advice. It's all waterlogged noise in one ear and out of the other.
Then they've left the room. The front door is slamming closed. Noah's car is purring to life in the driveway.
And I'm still sat in the same spot on his bed completely dumbfounded.
Matt wishes me a good nights sleep as he reaches the top of the stairs, his own bedroom door closing behind him.
I don't want to be sad about it but I know that I am. I figured we'd at least get to share a few whispered words here and there - that maybe he'd shut down Matt and stay the night just to see me before leaving for another long few days.
Maybe the days are only long for me.
Oh God, what if he's got a girlfriend at home; back with his parents.
My mind whirs. Suddenly Noah Laurier, perfect and sweet and phenomenal in bed, has a secret family.
I start giving him children in my mind - looked after by his mother and father of course, because Noah can't get his head around the commitment.
You're being ridiculous.
I am.
There is no secret family. Ten minutes after Noah leaves my phone begins ringing with the ringtone he picked out for himself.
"I didn't leave," he reveals the second I press the green answer button. "Tell me why I didn't leave?"
"Because you want a second alone with me just as much as I've wanted one with you all evening."
I walk over to the window pull back the curtain. His car is nowhere to be seen.
"Matt really does think you two have never been closer. An actual relationship with his sister - even if you do annoy the fuck out of him. I don't know how, he's the annoying one. Can't shut his fucking mouth."
All of those words blur. He's speaking so fast and in such hushed tones that I wonder if he's still in the house hiding from the two of us.
"Are you all right?"
A long pause.
"I've spent the last four days thinking about you and I've had a goddamn semi all evening because I can't do anything but picture you naked in my head as soon as I've seen your face. Matt is miraculously finding ways to cock-block me like he's got some sort of sixth sense."
"Breathe," I whisper.
I hear him take a breath through the phone. It's released slowly. I listen to the soft sounds as I tip toe out of the room and gently click the door shut behind me. Descending towards the living room, I take each step as wide as possible to avoid the creaks I've learned are in the middle.
"We're trying not to overthink it, Laurier." I whisper. "Am I right?"
Some sort of grunt in response.
I slip on my shoes, grab my keys carefully to avoid letting them jangle, and carefully unlock the front door.
Only when I close it behind me do I raise my voice from that timid whisper, speaking but still not in full volume. The street is deserted, the cold is biting, and Noah's car is parked halfway down the street.
I begin walking towards it.
"What happened to 'your brother can fuck off'?"
Another deep breath. "We were in a mansion. Everything was hazy."
"The wardrobe fumes were getting to you?"
"You get it," he utters. "I was confused by the strawberry smell of your hair."
I open the passenger side door and slip into the seat.
Still pressing the phone to my ear as I meet his gaze, I answer, "and what about all the other times after that?"
He's already leaning in when he speaks again.
I hang up the call on my phone as his lips brush my own.
The seat is radiating warmth underneath me and there's a warm breeze coming from the vents also, Noah's hand is hot on my cheek, and when his forehead touches mine his skin is full of heat there too.
"Relapses."
A smile breaks out across my face.
"So you're addicted to me?"
"Do you think he'd buy that?"
I thread my hand into his hair, glad to finally be in his presence, be close to him. The zigzag of thoughts scattered around my head are quieting and only the two of us in this car remain, illuminated by a lamppost overhead.
"I'm trying to pretend he isn't involved," I admit. "It's working out quite well actually. I've done nothing but think about you for four days as well."
"You shouldn't say things like that."
"True things?" Killer grin, there you are. "It's nice to see that wall of confidence falter Noah - I was starting to think you weren't even human."
"My confidence doesn't falter Madelaine, I'm merely questioning my moral compass."
"Weren't you in a street gang?"
A laugh. The colour returning to his cheeks.
"All the more reason to get good karma, right?" I lean my head against his hand. "I'm not backing out of what we have."
Which is what, exactly?
"I just wish you didn't have such a pain in the ass brother."
I straighten myself out in the seat, shuffling towards him, leaning over the gearstick. I press a long kiss to each of his cheeks and then his nose, ending with a firm peck on the lips. His mouth chases mine as I pull away.
His eyes are the greenest I've ever seen when I look into them once more.
"We're a little bit screwed. But at least we're a little bit screwed together-"
"You're an incredible motivational speaker-"
"And. I really would rather you were thinking about me right now instead of him, because I'm here and he isn't. And I want us to be kissing and making the most of right now before you have to go back to your parent's house again, because I'll miss you a lot. I have missed you a lot."
He stares at me for a moment too long.
I worry I've said too much. I've made it too obvious despite it only being a few weeks old, despite all the obstacles that say this shouldn't work. He doesn't feel the same way.
"Do you want your Christmas present now?"
Sigh of relief.
"Obviously."
Our lips join once more as he leans into me and opens the glove box. His tongue pushes into my mouth before I realise he's even rooting around for something inside it.
I hold on to muscular shoulders and kiss him back with as much passion. It's different - longing. I cradle his cheek in my hand, refamiliarising myself with the way his sharp jaw feels against my fingers.
It ends too quickly.
I have to blink my eyes out of the feeling of the kiss and can't help my pleased expression when I see that usual carefree smirk across his face.
He holds an open jewellery box in one hand and a silver necklace in the other.
"I figure you could wear this on a real date. With me, preferably."
Dangling at the center of the necklace, a silver letter N stares back at me, shining under the lamppost light pouring into the car.
Scratch all of those earlier thoughts; Noah doesn't have a secret family or children he doesn't care for. He's whipped. He's having me wear his name around his neck because he can't say it out loud and suddenly his concerns about Matt all make complete sense.
Everything I've assumed up until this point that been a baseless assumption.
I hope the letter N burns into my chest.
Instead of saying all of this, I push my hair aside and turn my head, watching the N take its rightful place against my chest as Noah fixes the clasp at the back of my neck.
"It's lovely," I tell him. "I will definitely wear it on a real date with you."
"And nobody else?"
A hot flush travels the length of my entire body. There's that look in his eyes again, the one I can't quite place my finger on. He's waiting for my response.
I'm entirely aware of what I'm promising.
"I will definitely wearing it on a real date with you, and with nobody else."
"Good."
I'm playing with the N between my fingers, it must have been an absentminded movement. He leans in to kiss me once more, tucks two fingers underneath the chain as if it will tie us together in this moment.
I hold his jaw and deepen the kiss. Rub another hand over his chest. Pull him closer by the belt loops on his trousers. He breathes in deeply as he peppers kisses over my neck.
"Here's a thought," he mumbles, voice raspy, fingers already playing at the hem of my shirt. I mumble and tilt my head further aside to let his lips reach more of my neck. "Come back with me."
"Where?" Breathless.
"Tonight. Sleep in the same bed as me. Tell him Chelsea picked you up early for breakfast."
The four days of yearning won't allow me to refuse.
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