Chapter 17 #3
“You’re all I care about. And you drive me crazy,” he whispered, cupping her breasts. Dahlia felt wobbly, her legs refusing to work. His mouth slowly moved from her lips down to her stomach, making her skin quiver uncontrollably.
“Noah, come here,” she hissed.
He looked up and met her intense gaze. She was falling for him. Hard and fast. She didn’t have to tell him what she was thinking. The way he stared at her, he knew and felt it too.
Noah lifted her onto his bare form, and they fit as one.
Her hands slid around his traps, feeling every muscle flex with each drive further inside of her.
With her back against the cold wall, all she could think about was staying.
Saying no to the job and seeing what would happen if she didn’t leave.
She bit his salty skin, feeling her atoms ignite.
With every thrust of his hips, she sank deeper into the reality of what they could be.
Their moans of pleasure mingled in the humid summer air.
Once he hit that spot, it was all over. She shattered into a million pieces, then he did the same.
Gritty, dirty grunts filled the air as he pulsed inside her.
They slid down the wall, sticky and satiated.
Dahlia couldn’t help but wonder if their bubble was about to pop. Or was it about to get bigger?
An hour after she burned the sage from Gretchen, they arrived at Noah’s bash. Dahlia’s only hope for the sage was that it would keep the good energy and eliminate the bad, with an emphasis on the night she was about to walk into.
“You look really pretty. I can’t wait to tear that dress off of you later. Starting with those straps first.” He growled in her ear, then kissed her shoulder as they walked through the back entrance of the Social Club.
“Thanks, it’s new.” She’d literally bought it three hours ago.
She felt her clammy hands stick to the layer of chiffon.
A smile wanted to ease across her lips, but she was too nervous.
Not because she was insecure, but because the Hamptons scene was a whole other world she knew nothing about.
Dahlia had skipped over so many rites of passage by becoming a mother at eighteen: the going out, the one-night stands, the Hamptons share houses, and drunken nights no one remembered the next day.
She missed it all. Now, at thirty-eight, she wondered if she had a shot at fitting in.
And the bigger question was, did she want to?
“Did you mail off the papers?” he asked curiously.
“Yup, even sent them priority.” A smile now graced her lips.
“So it’s official?” He angled his face toward her.
“It is.” Dahlia felt her belly flutter. This could change everything for them. But was she ready for that?
He leaned over and gave her a soft, reassuring kiss. It lasted mere seconds, but she felt more in that kiss than in some of the steamier ones.
“What was that for?” she asked playfully.
“Now, you’re all mine.” Noah’s smile melted her heart.
“I can live with that.” Dahlia wrinkled her nose, feeling the sudden urge to plant herself beside him all night and be his.
“It’s going to be fun, I promise,” he said, squeezing her hand.
“Oh, I see my friend Ryan. You’re going to love him, D.
” He pulled her through the hearty crowd.
The music was loud, and people were already straining to hear one another.
Typically, a crowd like this would make her uneasy, but not with Noah.
He made all her concerns seem to vanish into thin air just by being there with her.
“Ry. Ry.” Noah waved, moving closer to the bar.
“He’s here,” yelled the guy with the dark brown mullet. “Dude, bring it in, my man.” They bro hugged, and the guy asked, “And who is this?”
“Hi, I’m Dahlia.” She reached out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“So you’re the reason my friend hasn’t been at the house all summer long,” he said with an evil-eye squint.
Oh God, this wasn’t good. She desperately wanted them to like her. And the vibe that she had stolen his time wasn’t a good first impression.
“I’m just kidding. After what this guy went through last year, I’m just happy he’s alive.” Ryan gripped his shoulders.
Noah held her hand tighter, feeling how sweaty his palm was—or maybe it was hers.
Dahlia looked up at him, wondering how bad it had gotten.
It seemed like the aftermath of his breakup was messy and still a little raw.
She guessed that part they had in common.
She wondered if he still had feelings for Josie.
They’d been together a long time. The way Noah made love to Dahlia made her think twice about that, but people tended to surprise her, so she was on alert.
“We’re doing shots. You game?” Ryan asked Dahlia.
“Ah, sure,” she said with an effervescent tone. She was not about to show her age.
“And a round of espresso martinis?”
“I’ll just do a beer, and Dahlia will have …” Noah said, looking at her.
“I’ll have an espresso martini. That sounds great, thanks,” she interrupted him, wanting to be easy.
“Sweet, let’s get this party started,” Ryan said, flagging the bartender.
“You’d think we’d get better service. I mean, come on, they must know we’re from Hamptons House.
” He shook his head and huffed. “But really, it’s so good to see you, man.
We’ve missed you at the house this year. Filming isn’t the same without you.”
“How’s the house this year?” Noah asked, seemingly indifferent.
“A total wreck.”
“Worse than last year?”
“Oh yeah, think Grey Gardens meets The Money Pit. We’re making it into a hotel,” Ryan said over the steady hum of the music.
Noah’s eyes widened. “That’s cool, we’ve never done that before.” Was he missing all the action, camaraderie, and purpose, or was he content? All indications pointed to the latter, but being there, the uncertainty was rising like the tide.
“Yeah, but they’ve got us in the barn, they made it into a bunkhouse, and the conditions are less than ideal.” A sense of unease gripped Ryan’s expression. Then he blurted, “Mac was let go, you know.”
“I know.” Noah gave him a half smile.
Dahlia felt her posture perk up. She could only assume they were referring to his former best friend and the man Josie had cheated with. Was the half smile because he was indifferent or because he hadn’t known?
The song changed, and it got louder. Noah leaned in, and she lost the rest of their conversation to the noise.
She wondered if the break from the house this summer was temporary and if he would return next summer.
And if it was only temporary, what would that mean for them?
Dahlia wasn’t about to get caught up in more drama.
But she was also tired of keeping people at a distance.
They chatted by the bar, waiting for their drinks to arrive.
The lyrics to “Beautiful People” echoed through her mind as she people-watched.
She wasn’t in Connecticut anymore. She was used to beautiful people with on-trend, posh designer clothing, but this was different.
This was a playground for the privileged, the elite who wanted social status and luxury.
Connecticut was a bastion of old money, where privilege came with a sense of privacy.
And this wasn’t that. Dahlia scanned for his ex, but Josie was nowhere to be seen.
That pleased Dahlia since she wasn’t one for conflict—hence her overdue departure from her marriage.
“Okay, let’s do the shots here,” Ryan said, spilling them as he slid them down. “To my compadre and his novia. Happy fucking birthday, man!” And with that, they kicked back shots of tequila and lime.
Dahlia hid her gag reflex and leaned into him with an easy grin.
“Happy birthday, Noah,” she shouted over the music, finally getting comfortable.
The fun was starting to flow, and she was certainly overdue for some.
His castmates didn’t seem so bad. This sort of good time wasn’t something Dahlia knew much about since she’d skipped over it, but she was determined to keep an open mind.
Perhaps it could work if he did the show next summer.
“Our group is in the far back corner. I’ll ask a server to bring over the rest of the drinks. You kids go ahead.” Ryan passed Dahlia the martini and Noah his beer.
Dahlia glanced at Noah, wearing a polo shirt and tight chinos. He seemed to be in another world. “Are you okay?” She hoped he wasn’t second-guessing bringing her.
“Yeah. It’s just that Southold has been nice. Being in the Hamptons doesn’t feel as fun as it once did.”
Dahlia felt her face soften with his confession. As open as she’d told herself to be tonight, she couldn’t help but melt into his words. But she also wanted him to have fun tonight, and that started with her.
“The night is still young,” Dahlia said, coming to life after two quick sips of espresso. “Come on, we’ve got some celebrating to do.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He pressed his lips to hers.
“Me too.” She gazed into his tropical eyes, knowing full well this was a big step for him to bring her here. “Let’s go.”
They walked hand in hand across the pitted, uneven grass. Dahlia continued to sip her liquid courage, trying not to fall in her higher-than-usual wedge sandals.
His group of friends noticed them, and most ran over to greet them.
She could tell he was adored, and that impressed her.
It also told her that what you see with Noah is what you get.
It affirmed exactly who she knew him to be.
There were wide eyes from some of the girls, who were closer to Daisy’s age than hers, but the guys were, for the most part, welcoming.
“We’ve missed you, man. Drunk karaoke and nude cannonballs just aren’t the same without you,” the guy with the ginormous teeth and pecs said.
Noah held his stomach in laughter, but Dahlia could tell it was for show. Something in her gut told her so.