Epilogue
"...and therefore I would like to give my one month's notice on the house share.
My last day at the property will be Friday 31st of March.
Please get in touch if there is any other paperwork you need me to fill out or anything you'd like me to do before the move out.
Kind regards, Madelaine. How does that sound? "
Matt stares at me.
"It's very... polite."
"So?"
"So I would just say this is my move out date, see you later, job done. Why are you offering to do extra paperwork and shit?" He grumbles.
I lean back into the couch and huff, looking down at my laptop screen and the probably-too-long email ready to be sent to my estate agent.
One month ago we decided that I'd spend four days a week living here and three days at home, but in that past month I've collectively spent around four days at my rented room all together, and so Matt caved and told me to stop paying for it if I'm not going to use it.
Which was enough for me. I'd definitely rather just be staying here.
Living with him doesn't scare me and living with Noah doesn't either.
Going to my own house was the hard part every Friday (and then either Noah or I would cave, either late Friday night or very early Saturday morning, thus meaning he came to collect me and bring me back to this house. My house, now.)
Fingers click in front of my eyes.
I scowl at Matt, playfully rather than in a mean way, and click send on the email.
"It's just good manners, not that you'd know anything about that."
"It's just good manners," he repeats in a high, whiny voice. "Blah, blah, fucking blah Mads."
He settles back into the couch next to me, flicking through the TV channels mindlessly.
It's comfortable and easy again now, just as it was after I'd first settled in here.
The initial week after our split day agreement had been awkward, both Noah and I fumbling around and avoiding Matt just as he avoided us, but eventually we all settled in again.
Matt even managed to walk in on Noah and I kissing in the kitchen and didn't walk back out again, just made a faux vomit sound as he began prepping dinner.
He picks out a film that's already halfway through and pulls a pillow onto his lap.
I follow suit with a blanket after shoving my closed laptop back under the coffee table.
Once again, the living room (and Noah's room) is filled with my stuff.
Random bits and bobs, bags everywhere, shoes shoved under every surface.
I have been planning to sort it all out, especially since I sleep in Noah's room every night now, but saying I'll do it and actually doing it are two very different things.
We sit and watch for fifteen minutes before the air fryer dings.
"Ugh," Matt groans, throwing his head back. "You get it."
"Nu-uh," I scowl. "It's your dinner night."
He glares at me, no true heat behind his eyes.
"Fine," he grumbles, rising. "Just because your boyfriend helps you cook when it's your turn. Oh, I'm Maddie, my boyfriend won't let me take a pasta dish out of the oven-"
"He let's me!" I argue. "Just because you know nothing about chivalry-"
My brothers infamous snort cuts me off. He shakes the chips in the fryer whilst staring across the counter at me. I stick a finger up at him, stealing two of his couch cushions and shoving them behind my back.
"He doesn't want me to burn my fingers," I conclude dejectedly.
"God, it's like living with mum and Paul all over again."
Despite his sarcastic tone my heart immediately swells.
"You think?" I coo.
Paul dotes on our mother. He worships the ground she walks on and then worships her while she walks as well - there is nothing that man wouldn't do to put a smile on her face. Seeing them walk around holding hands and grinning at each other is enough to make a grown man cry.
So basically, if Noah and I are anything like them at all, we're definitely winning.
Matt saying so only makes the victory sweeter.
I continue watching the film while he finishes making dinner. I managed to convince him to start putting at least one serving of vegetables with his air-fryer masterpieces - sometimes I can even make him serve sweet potato fries instead of chips.
He's cussing out a dropped pea when arms wrap around my shoulders.
"Hey!" Matt warns instantly, as if he has a sixth sense. "There'll be none of that in my house."
Noah kisses the side of my face. Continuing to ignore him, his strong arms tighten around me as I tilt my head back to kiss him some more.
"Noah, I swear to fucking God," Matt loudly mutters.
Noah grins and pulls away, pushing wet strands of hair out of his face as he joins Matt in the kitchen and begins critiquing all his fried food options.
He's been at the gym all afternoon - he offered to take me but someone has to make sure Matt doesn't burn down the kitchen whilst trying to microwave frozen vegetables.
I ignore them pushing each other back and forth and press play on the TV.
The film continues quietly in the background as I scroll through social media on my phone.
I have a missed call from Chelsea but I can't call her back - she's asked me to wait until she calls me again, which last month would've been incredibly weird, but lately it seems as if Chelsea has grown three more heads and sprouted a new personality; she's nothing but weird.
While I'm responding to my mothers latest message, Matt drops a plate of food on the table in front of me.
"Matt," I coo. "Fried stuff! God, it's been ages-"
"Shut up and eat," he demands.
Noah smirks at me as he drops onto the beanbag chair we bought last week.
I do shut up and eat. I stretch out my feet in front of me and balance the plate on a pillow, grinning at Noah intermittently.
"So what are your weekend plans?" Matt asks the two of us.
"Do you alreadyhave weekend plans?" Noah retorts.
Matt smirks. Just as he opens his mouth and I think please don't let me hear about him having another one night stand, his phone blares. It almost makes me jump up from the sofa with how loud he has the volume turned up.
Since Matt found out Noah and I were dating, he seems to have gotten more comfortable with the idea of talking about women and relationships and sex. Or he's just stopped caring that I'm around.
She has this- her legs that- look at the pair of-
No.
Sometimes I'm sure it's payback for the detail I went into whilst we were arguing.
The phone continues to shriek. I lean forward to glance over my plate-pillow and see Skye's face lighting up the screen.
My eyes roll of their own accord.
Apparently Matt's sixth sense also extends to that, because when I turn to him he rolls his eyes right back at me.
"You see me not answering the phone right now, don't you?"
"She's still trying?" I ask.
"For a whole month," Matt smiles, no true happiness behind it whatsoever. "I've been ignoring at least one text a day and about one phone call every three days or so. Sara texted me last week to tell me to give her closure."
I reel back into my seat, eyes blown wide.
That obsessed with him. It's borderline unhealthy, the way she's been acting with Matt.
The late night calls, the hundreds of text messages - that's just when he was occasionally texting her back.
Now he's ignoring her it seems even worse; his very own unwanted, unwarranted stalker.
"Are you seriously that good in bed?" Noah muses.
I throw a pillow at him.
"Obviously I wouldn't have started fucking her at all if I'd known she was bat-shit crazy."
"Wasn't she your friend first?" I ask.
The phone ceases to ring and then immediately starts up again. Matt sinks further into the couch, groaning. Noah and I make a wide-eyed face at each other, me grimacing immediately after.
Two calls in a row seems somehow worse.
"Should I answer and tell her to stop calling?"
"No," Noah and I respond in unison.
I add, "just block her number and let her figure out her own closure."
Thankfully Skye hasn't called me during this past month at all. She did try to text Noah, begging him to make Matt talk to her, but he promptly blocked her number and then removed her from his social media, so she didn't have the chance to try that method again.
Truthfully if Matt did invite her over I think it'd end in bloodshed and tears, and that's just because I don't think I could stop myself from punching her in the throat. Not to mention that it's likely Matt would promptly kick her to the curb shortly afterwards.
The phone continues to ring as I put another chicken nugget in my mouth.
"Ugh!"
Matt dramatically stands up from the couch and puts his plate on the table, muttering under his breath as he storms out of the room.
We're left with the still-ringing phone.
"At least he's not sleeping with her anymore," Noah says.
"Yeah, but I wish she'd leave him alone."
He stands up, grabbing Matt's half empty plate and then my own empty one, carrying them over to the kitchen sink. I stand up and follow him once the ringing has stopped and Skye's face has disappeared from our coffee table.
I walk around him making a protein shake. Filling the sink with soapy water, I pull the designated washing gloves onto my hands and begin piling dirty dishes on the counter.
Noah's arms loop over my shoulders.
"Someone left me a voicemail today-"
"Wow, score."
He snorts. "And when I checked it out, you'll never believe what I found."
I place a now-clean plate on the drying rack.
"What?" I ask, my curiosity peaked.
He pulls away and fumbles around behind me. Then, to my utter horror, I hear my own drunken voice coming through the speaker, practically half moaning his name.
"Noah... Noah. Where did you go? Are we... Why aren't you in your room? Your sheets smell like you. Ha."
I stare at him.
"When was this?" I practically squeak.
"Shh," he grins. "We've not even got to the good part yet."
"Mads. Take off your make-up. Are you on the phone?" Chelsea's voice.
Scuffle.
"I'm not on the phone." Then, I'm whispering. "She doesn't know I'm on the phone, Noah. Shhh."
A clash.
"These sheets are so soft. Have you..." Giggle. "On these sheets? While I've been downstairs on the couch? I shouldn't have said that. Don't tell Matt, okay? He'll be upset with me. Chelsea. Chels. I need another make-up wipe."
My eyes go wide. Noah has a shit-eating grin on his face now, still holding the phone between us like its candy. Heat floods my body, crawls over my skin, invades my senses.
"This is from the night I threw up, isn't it?"
His grin just widens.
A second of silence on the voicemail, two.
"Mads, you need to hang up that call. Jesus Christ."
Both Chelsea and I giggling, shushing each other.
"Bye Noah. Sorry I called you hot. But not really, because you are. Porn-worthy."
Porn-worthy, I mouth, mortified.
"Hang up!"
Dial tone.
"Porn-worthy," Noah echoes, showing more teeth than he probably ever has before. His smile is just that wide.
"Not that this isn't humiliating and shameful at all," I smile, blood pulsing under my skin, "but I have my first driving lesson in about five minutes, and I think I need to choose my driving shoes."
I finally cashed in the driving lessons that Matt got me for Christmas, and I am hoping to avoid talking about my humongous crush on Noah when we first met in any way possible.
"Your driving shoes?" Noah snorts. "No- I don't even care. Let's talk some more about this."
"You've heard it before," I whine.
At least I assume he has. He must've listened to voicemail when I first left it for him all those months ago, when we were nothing more than acquaintances living in the same house.
I try and squirm past him but am caged by his arms, my body pulled flat against his.
Noah's voice is gruff against my ear, deep and gritty. "Last time I heard this voicemail it drove me fucking crazy. If Chelsea wasn't in the bed with you I probably would've crumbled right there."
A rush of desire shoots through my body.
"I have a driving lesson," I murmur, smiling as he kisses behind my ear. "You're still porn-worthy now we're dating, by the way. Though I'd hope you wouldn't make porn without me."
He stills. "Without you?"
As if on que, headlights shine through the front window. Both Noah and I turn at the interruption, still tangled up in each other, and see a red car with big L plates plastered all over it when the headlights are turned off. A second later my phone begins to ring.
"I have to go."
"Without you?" He repeats, following me to the front door.
I quickly shoves my trainers on - fuck, I'd wanted to put on different shoes, really comfy ones, good for a first driving lesson - and hop out of the front door. Noah is still trailing behind me when the door closes.
The instructor waves at me from the drivers seat. He's younger than I would've thought, blonde and lean with a bright smile. Noah is rigid beside me. The instructor - Ian, I recall his name being from the booking - quickly looks down to his feet.
I spin and raise one eyebrow.
Six foot four, muscled, tattooed, with a smile so killer I'd kneel before it, and a young driver instructor has him a little nervous. Has him pulling me a little closer as if to stake claim in front of the new guy.
"Jealously doesn't suit you," I tease.
"I'm not jealous," he says quickly. Then, mumbling, "I thought he would be old."
I can't stop the laugh that bubbles up from my chest.
Noah rolls his eyes, still glaring at the young instructor through the passenger side window. I hold up two fingers to tell him know that I just need a few minutes before we start and turn back to my still-glaring boyfriend.
"Tell me something embarrassing. For the voicemail."
"Didn't I already?"
I guess I've got time. I'll wait.
Noah and I stare at each other. It takes him less than thirty seconds to break, visibly deflating.
"If that guy asks for your number I think I'm going to pull off his exhaust and shove it so far down his windpipe that he'll never be able to say the word 'number' ever again."
A smile begins to crack over my features.
"I love you."
I feel it in my chest. I've felt it in my chest for a while now, cradling me, darting around my body and shining through my eyes. Giving it to Noah as my 'something embarrassing' has been the plan for a while now, though we don't seem to be as easily embarrassed as we used to now we're together.
It's all become incredibly easy. Routine. Even Matt has settled into it.
"What?"
Noah's stance is limp. His face soft, confused - the jealously dies away instantly, replaced with visible confusion. Possibly awe. He's so taken aback that his hands slip away from me when I pull away.
I just laugh, beginning to walk to the passenger seat of the instructors car.
"See you when I get home."
I manage to touch the handle before I'm spun around and pulled into a gentle kiss, one surprisingly tame for Noah's taste. All soft movements and tender caresses. It doesn't last long enough - though I am vaguely aware of the instructor I paid to be here still awaiting my presence.
Noah smiles against my mouth.
"I love you too. Drive safely."
"You've seen me drive before, right?"
He just grins. He does that a lot lately. It's more unusual if he isn't grinning about something or speaking in that usual teasing manner or touching me wherever he can get his hands.
I get into the passenger seat and smile throughout the entire lesson.
Ian is no Noah and the lessons certainly are not as fun, though it is much easier to concentrate during them.
And when my lesson is done and I return home, Noah's waiting for me on the couch with a dessert he baked.
He's smiling, Matt is saying how sickly-sweet we are, and everything has fallen into place.
Bliss.
·─────?? ??─────·
Kaiden Beckett sees and knows everything. At only twenty nine, he is complete. He has the money, the business, the power - everything a man of his age could desire.
With a renowned PI company, dirty methods and an unflinching trigger finger, he's tasked with gathering enough evidence to end the Mierro rule for good.
He can't help but judge the people who cling to the Mierro brothers; the losers who want a slice of the empire; the kids who should know better; the women in their beds.
The new woman in the Mierro circle may seem to have her life together, but Kaiden knows better. She's just like all the others, shameless and brainless, and he'd love nothing more than to see her crumble with the rest.