21. Noah
NOAH
The one thing that had changed? Now I had something to lose.
Someone to lose.
We were on our second to last fake date this evening at a pop-up photography exhibit. I had spotted it the other day on the way home from the gym. Sometimes, our pre-planned outings were brief: a quick coffee break in a popular coffee shop, a walk through the park, or lunch at the newest café.
Today, I wanted to take Macey somewhere I knew she’d like.
And yes, I was well-aware this was real-boyfriend behavior, but I didn’t need to expand on the psychology behind the decision.
We had already started crossing the line anyway.
Tonight would be the night I said something about the real feelings that had been boiling inside me.
For better or worse, she deserved to know the truth.
Even if I was terrified about how she’d respond .
Was it fair for me to even ask Macey to take a chance on someone so unstable, who had no idea what he was doing in life? What she needed was dependability and stability. I wasn’t sure if I was in a place where my life included those things, no matter how much I wanted them.
Still, I wanted that chance. Wanted the opportunity to turn myself into a better version of myself, one that was worthy of her. I just wasn’t sure how.
Soft, ambient music played as we filtered through the exhibit.
The space was an eclectic mix of industrial and chic, with exposed brick walls and concrete floors juxtaposed against elegant drapery and plush seating areas.
Spotlights illuminated the photographs, making them stand out vividly against the muted backdrop of the gallery walls.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” Macey said as she stared straight ahead at a jungle landscape photo.
“You’re welcome,” I said, feeling pleased. Then I explained my reasons for selecting this date. “I thought it would be a good place to get photos for your blog.”
“Thanks.” She sounded pleasantly surprised. “I’ve pretty much stopped trying to get Victoria to consider my photos for articles, which, by the way, are still performing amazing. My blog viewership has slowly been increasing, too.”
“I know,” I commented. “I check every so often.”
“Stalker,” she teased. “I appreciate it, though. I’ve felt a little off ever since seeing Calculator Cal at the restaurant opening.
He never said anything about me being there to Victoria, so she doesn’t know I know, but the office still feels hostile.
My career is really important to me, and I can’t help but feel like I’m being pushed out. ”
A hot coil of frustration curled in my stomach. It wasn’t fair what was happening to Macey, and now I knew I needed to do something about it. Macey’s career was important to her, and I wanted to help her succeed.
“Macey, there’s something I should tell you about your boss,” I started, then hesitated. Was this really the right time to tell her about my theory?
I looked at her face—wisps of hair from her braid falling onto her forehead, glitter on her eyelids that only accentuated the joy in her deep brown eyes—and I couldn’t bear upsetting her tonight. I’d tell her another day.
There was still time.
“What?” she asked, my blank expression probably confusing her.
“Your boss sucks.” I forced a nonchalant laugh.
She laughed along with me. “Yeah. She’s not always so bad, but she’s much harder on me than everyone else. I’ve tried so many times to patch the holes in our relationship, but I’ve never succeeded. I think she’s made me stronger, though, even if she didn’t mean to.”
“It’s not on you to fix someone else’s insecurities.”
“You think that’s the reason? She’s insecure?”
I nodded. “You’re confident and good at what you do. Most people would want to partner with someone like that, but a few will do what they can to drag you down with them.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “But there’s got to be something more to it. I don’t know.”
She started to move toward the next photograph in line, but something caught her eye. “We have to see this.” She giggled as she dragged me across the gallery floor. We landed in front of a large portrait.
It was a whale.
Ever since the Whale Fest event, she was oddly obsessed with whales .
“Did you know,” Macey started, “that whales use physical touch to maintain social bonds?”
I stood behind her, close enough that strands of her hair brushed my chin. “Oh?”
“They swim close together, rub against each other, and even hold fins like how people hold hands.”
I enveloped her body within mine, placing a hand on her hip. When I rubbed a thumb over the space in between the end of her shirt and the top of her skirt, a gold and glittery thing that hit mid-thigh, a shiver skated down her body.
Masculine pride filtered through me. I did that.
It was borderline pathetic how fast Macey consumed me. The entire cast of Die Hard could enter through the front door, and I’d never notice. I wouldn’t take the opportunity to meet the stars of my favorite movie if it meant not touching Macey for a minute.
“What else did your whale book teach you?”
“Um.” Her breath caught when I moved both hands to her waist, holding gently. “In some species, males and females form long-term partnerships. Which is a big deal, when you think about how many animals are only with each other for one goal, like breeding.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Breeding?” She sounded horrified.
“No, Scribbles.” I placed my chin on top of her head, taking a minute to observe the photo in front of us. A wild whale in the ocean, free and happy. “Long-term partnership.”
“It is,” she said, then leaned back into my chest. “What about you?”
I swallowed and took a deep inhale as I wrapped my arms fully around her. “I never thought I was capable of that.”
“And now?”
“Now I think I am. ”
We stayed like that for a minute, unmoving, content to be close to each other. Staring at a simple photograph. Fortunately, most of the guests didn’t have an interest in whale photography, so it was just us in this corner of the gallery.
At least it was, until I heard footsteps approach.
“They’re taking photos of you,” Macey said under her breath.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of girls, probably around Daphne’s age. One held up a phone unabashedly as the other hastily threw hers back into her bag.
“Not me,” I corrected. “Us.”
One girl, the brave one who still held up her phone, shouted, “Kiss!”
Her friend turned away in embarrassment.
Did people think we were trained animals who did things on command?
“No, thanks. His lips are chapped,” Macey joked to them.
A joke at my expense, but it was better than the alternative: a forced kiss for other people’s viewing pleasure. I pinched her side, and she let out a giggle.
“So?” The girl looked like she was going to protest further until her friend dragged her toward the next exhibition room.
Once they were gone, I asked in mock offense, “I have chapped lips?”
Macey shrugged, turning around in my arms. She touched one finger to my bottom lip. “You can borrow my lip balm.”
Did she notice the way my breath grew heavier after her touch?
This close, it’d be impossible not to. It was hard not to look at her, but at the same time, it was more difficult to look.
Every time she tilted her head, I had to press down the desire to reach out and kiss there, right at the point of her pulse.
I flicked my tongue against my lips and turned away.
“You’re going to regret saying that.”
“Why? ”
I glanced around once, then twice, noting a lack of guests in the immediate area. When I stepped back, I tugged Macey back with me until we were both fast walking toward the edge of the gallery. Near the corner, to the reading room.
It was unlocked, and we slipped in unnoticed.
“Noah?” Macey asked into the darkness as I found the light switch and turned it on.
I didn’t answer, instead stepping in front of her and tugging at the elastic band at the end of her braid. I placed it in my pocket, working slowly to undo each fold of the braid. Her hair felt soft and silky in between my fingers, and it looked almost white against my palm.
When I reached the base of the braid by her scalp, I tugged. Macey followed the movement easily, tilting her head up and to the side for me. Right where I was craving earlier. I planted a kiss on the underside of her jaw.
“What are we doing?” Macey’s voice was a hushed breath that turned into a moan when I moved my lips down her neck, pausing at the spot that I gathered she liked most.
It happened so fast—and I was already so lightheaded, intoxicated from contact—that we found ourselves falling against the couch in the corner of the room.
Macey hit the cushions, me leaning over her, the high velvet back of the couch engulfing us.
My knee pressed into the cushions between her legs.
“You said you didn’t want to kiss my lips because they’re chapped.” Not a great joke considering I did use Chapstick regularly. “So I’m working around that.”
“But I like kissing you,” she said in a low voice, like a prayer.
My mouth found its place by the shell of her ear. “I think you’ll like this, too.”
Pinned as she was under the weight of my body, Macey’s eyes widened. “We’re in public. ”
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” I emphasized my point with one quick peck against her cheek.
“No, I want to. It’s just…”
“We’ll have to be quiet.”
My mind began that slow, familiar melt into mush. One hand fisted in the glittery fabric of her skirt, even though she already pulled us close together with a knee hooked around my waist. I reached down to hook that leg over my shoulder and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the skin of her ankle.
A short exhale left Macey’s mouth. Ticklish, then.
Slowly, I moved up her legs, suddenly very grateful to whatever intelligent person invented skirts.
When I got to her knee, I moved to the floor, sitting on my own knees.
Macey was a mess of anticipation and excitement.
She stared down at me, heat in her pupils, as I traced my tongue against the fold of her knee.
I made quick work of the silk underwear beneath her skirt, then carefully tossed it onto the couch so it wouldn’t be lost later.
Her hands tangled in my hair as I gave a first long, languorous lick. Macey fell back against the cushions with a soft moan, cushioned by her palm against her lips.
“Quiet,” I reminded her before drawing her clit into my mouth and sucking, reveling in the way she panted.
The thought that anyone could come in at any moment and see the most beautiful girl in the city, skirt pushed up to her hips, with the luckiest bastard kneeling before her—well.
It was dangerous and disastrous, and the only kind of bad idea that I enjoyed participating in.
From the way Macey responded, she did too.
“I—” But she didn’t finish her sentence as I upped the intensity, licking and sucking until she was dripping all over me.
I pulled back for a second, rubbing a finger where my mouth had been previously. I admired the sight before me, how Macey’s spine left the cushions, eyes harshly shut. I spread her thighs wider and sucked a bruise on the tender skin there.
Her whimpers escalated into muffled squeals as I alternated between fingering her and worshiping her with my mouth. Fast, even strokes across the entirety of her. Swirling a fingertip over her swollen bud until she rolled her hips, trying to get more.
“Noah.” My name broke out as soon as she moved her hand off her mouth. Instead, she fisted my hair again, muscles taut.
“You taste better than I imagined.” I buried my nose and inhaled. I wanted to stay here forever. I wanted the chance to stay here forever.
Macey pushed herself up by her elbows. “You…imagined?”
I slid two fingers in and lifted my head. “Often.”
She gazed down at me, her eyes half-hidden with desperation and desire. Maybe something else, too. Trust. Care. Certainty.
My cock was hard against my pants, but my heart had never felt so soft. Fuck. It was like she had beaten down every last layer between my heart and the world.
“I always did,” I admitted, pushing my fingers deeper. She was so tight around my knuckles, and I felt the stretch. “Always knew you were beautiful. Never thought we’d have a chance.”
A shudder rolled through her, at my words or my actions, I couldn’t tell. So I continued with both.
“I love the way you always smell like coconut sunscreen, and the braid down your back, and that you always see the best in people.” I lowered my head. “Like me.”
I timed the next swirl of my tongue with a flick of my finger, hooking against that spot. Macey shoved a hand over her mouth once again as her muscles went taut, clenching around me as she came.
Desire burned in my veins. Even though I’d love to lock us in here for the rest of the night, that wasn’t an option. Still, I leisurely took my time as Macey came down from the high, relishing in the quiet whimpers that gave way to silence. I gently placed her leg back on the couch.
She leaned up to push our foreheads together, and a thrill of delight exploded in me. “It’s easy to see the best in you, Noah.”