But there’s still a part of me that wonders about the secrets Noah’s still keeping and how much anger he is really holding onto. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t said much on the drive back to York. It started to snow when we left the house so I had to leave my car at Noah’s while we both travel in his. My Mini Cooper would have been all over the road by now if I had driven it.
At the rate we’re going, we won’t have much time to get ready for the hospital’s annual Christmas party. I said I wasn’t going to go and I haven’t got a ticket, but Noah has insisted that we go together. But first I need to talk to him about what’s on my mind. Just as I pluck up the courage to ask, he swings his car into his parking spot and yanks on the handbrake. He immediately turns to me and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Today has been amazing,” he says. “And what you said when I got into bed with you was exactly what I needed to hear. I didn’t realise just how much I needed to hear it until you said it.”
“I meant every word,” I whisper, placing my hand on top of his.
He smiles and leans forward. “I love you,” he tells me. When his mouth moves down to my lips, I pull away and then watch his forehead crinkle as he frowns. “What’s the matter?”
“Noah, there are still some things you haven’t told me,” I say. “I heard you on the phone with Tara, so I know you’re still in contact with her. But what I don’t understand is why. You also said you had stuff going on in your life that you weren’t telling me and I think I should know now before we go any further.”
He pulls his hand away from my face and sits back in his seat with a sigh. “You’re right,” he says. “There is stuff you need to know.”
“I’d like you tell me,” I say. “Right here…right now.”
He raises his eyebrows at me.
“That sounded bossier than I meant it to,” I tell him. “I just want to be able to get out of this car and know that we’ve said all that needs to be said so we can start again, completely fresh.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but his phone starts to flash and vibrate from the dashboard. We both look at it at the same time and I see Tara’s name flashing at me. Speak of the devil.
His eyes dart to mine as he reaches for the phone and hits the answer button. “Hello?” he says. “Yes, I emailed them to you this morning.”
I hate that I feel sick with jealousy. I’m not normally a jealous person—then again, I’ve had no reason to be before. But I don’t like that he still talks to his ex-girlfriend, and I’m not sure I’d ever meet a girl that is okay with it.
“No,” he sighs. “I’ve been up to the house and you know the signal is shit up there.”
Why is he telling her about what he’s been doing?
“Yes,” he says. “Of course it’s fine. The flights are already booked and I’ve made all the relevant appointments. You’ll see all of that information in the email.”
Flights? What the fuck? I clear my throat and his eyes find mine. He just stares at me as he continues to listen to her.
“Okay,” he finally says. “Have a nice Christmas.” He ends the call and carefully places his phone back onto the dashboard.
I turn in my seat so I’m fully facing him. “Ready to talk about her now?” I ask.
He nods.
“You didn’t marry her,” I say, “but did you continue to have a relationship with her afterwards?”
“No,” he says. “I didn’t.”
“So you’re still friends with her?”
He shrugs. “Sort of. We didn’t speak for a while after the almost-wedding, but then she got back in touch with me a few years ago.”
I still don’t understand why he was going to marry her in the first place. “It had only been four months since we’d split up,” I whisper. “Why were you marrying her at all?”
He sucks in a deep breath and rubs his face with his hands. “You didn’t see me when I got back here,” he says. “I was a mess. You left and I thought you’d aborted our baby. My Grandad had just died, I had loads of paperwork to sort out and I was completely broken, Ariel. You broke me, and well, Tara was just there.”
I feel a stab of guilt slice through me. I broke him? “So you got back together with her?” I whisper.
“Not straight away. At first she was just a friend and she helped with all the legal stuff because she was studying law, so she sort of advised me.” He unfastens his scarf and pulls it from around his neck. “She asked me to marry her and I said yes without really thinking about it. I think I was actually drunk at the time and I felt bad for leaving her the way I did, so it just sort of happened. And I let it continue to happen because it was the least stressful thing to do. Not to mention things were nice and normal with her.”
I look down at my hands and start to mess with the ends of my scarf. “But you went through all the planning,” I say, “so why did you wait until your actual wedding day to call it off?”
“I was a coward,” he confesses. “And I hate that I was so weak I couldn’t think straight.” He turns to face me and lifts my chin with his thumb. “I still loved you,” he says. “I dreamt about you nearly every single night and I thought about you constantly. But there was another reason why I let her carry on with the wedding plans.”
“Go on,” I urge.
“Guilt and pity.”
“Excuse me?”
Noah sighs. “About three weeks after she asked me to marry her, Tara told me she had MS.”
I feel my mouth drop open. “What?”
He nods. “It’s primary progressive,” he says, “so it’s only going to get worse, and there are no episodes of relapses.”
“How bad is it?”
He shakes his head. “At the beginning, it wasn’t too bad. She was diagnosed just before we left for Florida, but she didn’t tell me. Now she needs full-time care, and that’s why I’m going over there to see her next week. She’s got twelve months left, at best.”
“But you’re a heart surgeon,” I say. “Why are you going?”
“As a friend,” he tells me. “I’m the only one she has left these days and I’m going to look at care homes with her. Her mother has Alzheimer’s and her dad fucked off when she was younger. She really doesn’t have anyone else.”
I lean back in my seat and face forward. Noah is going over to Ireland to help his sick ex-girlfriend look at care homes. Is there anything that this extraordinary man isn’t capable of? “That’s really nice of you,” I finally say.
I hear him sigh next to me. His arm shoots out and then he pulls me into him and kisses the top of my head. “Thank you for understanding.”
I smile. “I’m not exactly going to throw a hissy fit about you helping out someone in need, am I?”
“No, but I would understand if you were bothered by your boyfriend flying to Ireland to see his ex-girlfriend.” Boyfriend? ”Especially one that he nearly married.”
“Ugh,” I say. “You don’t have to keep reminding me that you almost married her though.”
He chuckles and brushes his hand across my face. “Is that it now?” he asks.
“Is what it?”
“Is everything out in the open? Is there anything else that you want to know?” He gently skims his thumb across my cheek.
I shake my head. “I’m sure there’ll be more questions at some point. But if you’re asking me if I think we’re ready to start again, then yes,” I say, “I think we’re ready.”
“You haven’t got any more skeletons hiding in your closet, do you?” he asks, but I can see him smiling.
“No,” I mumble. “You know all of mine.”
“Good,” he says. “So we’re doing this then? We’re going to make a future together?”
“Yes,” I tell him. “I want to make new, happy memories with you.”
He brushes his lips gently against mine. “We have a lot of time to make up for,” he whispers. “Starting with making sure our first proper Christmas together is a good one.”
> I nod. “I’m quite looking forward to actually having a nice Christmas for a change.”
He smiles. “Me too.” He leans down and kisses me until I start to melt into him. When he pulls away, I look into his bright blue eyes. For the first time, I don’t see any hurt, only happiness. “Let’s take some time off work,” he says. “We should go on a really long holiday where we can really get to know each other again.”
That would be amazing, but.... “I can’t just take time off work, Noah. I only just started.”
“We both know that neither of us has to work ever again. Let’s just do it. We’ll hand in our notices and have a year of making up all of those lost hours we could have spent together. I want to hear you laugh every day. I want to wake up to you every morning. And I want to make love to you. Every. Single. Day.” He kisses the end of my nose.
“Every day?” I say with a grin. “You’re getting a bit old to commit yourself to doing that every single day.”
He laughs and it sounds beautiful as it bounces around the car. “I hear there are little blue tablets that can help with those sorts of problems. Not that I’ll have a problem getting hard when I have you…and these,” he says, leaning over to playfully squeeze my breasts.
“Get off,” I giggle. “That’s not turning me on at all.”
He moves his hand underneath my top and quickly slips his thumb inside of my bra. My nipple immediately hardens at his touch. “Is this turning you on?” he asks. His husky, hot breath washes over my neck.
“No,” I lie.
He raises an eyebrow at me and then moves his hand further down my body until he’s creeping underneath the waistband of my jeans. “Do you remember how you used to ask me to touch you when we were in public?”
The memories of secret, hushed orgasms and hands moving underneath tablecloths and strategically placed jackets make me blush. “I remember,” I tell him.
“What was your favourite?” he asks, sliding his hand into my knickers. His fingers expertly find my clitoris straightaway. “I know you liked it when you thought we might get caught. That turned you on, didn’t it, Ariel?”
“Yes,” I breathe. My back arches in the seat as he pushes a finger inside of me.
He kisses up my neck and along my jaw. “Favourite one? What was it?”
My breaths are rushed as they spill out of me. I push my hands into his hair and pull his face up to mine. “They’re all my favourites,” I tell him. “Everything you’ve ever done has a special place in my heart. You’re my favourite. Just you.”
He adds a second finger and circles his thumb over my swollen clitoris. “I feel the same, but that sixty-second blow job in a glass lift is my absolute favourite. I’ve never come so quickly in my whole life.”
I laugh but a groan slips out of my mouth and muffles it. “Oh, God,” I breathe, teetering on the edge of an orgasm. How did that happen so quickly?
“Ariel,” he breathes. “I’m so fucking hard.” He grabs my hand and pulls it onto his crotch. When I feel his rock-hard cock underneath my hand, I can’t stop my orgasm from spiralling out around me. Noah grins at me and pulls his hand free. His eyes lock onto mine as he sucks his fingers. “You taste good,” he says. “I can’t wait for you to fuck my face later.”
I let my head drop back and groan. My breathing is still all over the place, but I adjust my clothes and sit up. “Why don’t we go to yours now?”
“Can’t,” he says, grinning at me. “We have to go and get our glad rags on for this bloody party.”
“Let’s just not go. We can go to yours and have sex all night long.”
He shakes his head. “As amazing as that sounds, unfortunately, I have to go.”
I pull a pretend annoyed face. Maybe just a quickie? “What time is it?”
“It’s six ‘o clock now. The party starts at seven.” There goes that idea.
Chapter 39
NOW
Santa Claus
I push open the door to our apartment and notice Ruby’s bedroom light is on. “It’s only me, Rubes,” I call out. “I’ve been at Noah’s all day. I’ve got something big to tell you, but I was waiting until I could tell you properly,” I say as I walk into my room.
She doesn’t answer me.
I pull my trousers down, wriggle my feet free and creep across the hallway. I hear the rustling of paper coming from her room.
“Ruby?” I say again. “Is that you?” I try to remember what shift she said she was working, but I only recall her telling me that it was going to be a really long day.
She doesn’t answer me. I immediately know something is wrong and so does my body. My heart bangs in my chest and every single hair on my body stands on end.
“Who is it?” I call out. There’s no point in me being quiet because I’ve already announced myself.
“It’s Santa Claus,” says a deep voice.
I freeze. I know that voice. It’s haunted me for years in one nightmare or another. I let out a stutter of breath and start to shake. I try to focus on keeping my breathing steady, but then a shadow falls across me and I don’t bother to look up. I spin on my heels and bolt towards the door as I hear him stumbling out of Ruby’s room. He hits the ground but grabs at my ankle, forcing me to crash into the door. I bang my eye on the handle and groan as I crumple to the floor.
“Hello, darling sister,” he hisses. “Merry Christmas.” Michael crawls across the floor towards me and leans over me to lock the door. My stomach rolls as the stench of his breath wafts over my face and I feel the burn of sick in my throat. My cheeks puff out and then I projectile vomit all over his chest and myself.
“Dirty bitch,” he shouts, wiping himself down.
I groan and rub my mouth while trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my eye. “It’s not Christmas yet,” I say. “And I’m not a little girl that you can wank over anymore.”
He laughs and starts to undo his belt. The pain from hitting my head has stunned me a little bit, but as soon as I hear the noise of his belt buckle, everything slams back into perspective. I start to push at him with my hands and kick out with my legs.
“No!” I shout. “Get off me.”
His hair is long, almost to his shoulders, and black with grease. He’s wearing a stinky black t-shirt and faded denim jeans.
“I’ve been in prison for nearly seven years,” he says, wrapping his hand around my throat. “I haven’t felt a woman in all that time, so what makes you think that I’m going to be content with just wanking over you?”
I feel like I’m going to be sick again. I slap and hit at his hand, but he just squeezes tighter. “Get off,” I squeak.
He keeps his hand on my throat while he undoes his buttons with his other hand. He pushes each side of his jeans down until they’re low enough for him to pull his dick out from his boxers.
Oh God. This can’t be happening. I reach up and pull his hair as hard as I can. I slap his face over and over again, but he just laughs at me as if he can’t even feel what I’m doing. When his boxers are down and his cock is bouncing free, he starts to tug at my knickers.
“I see you’ve already taken your trousers off for me…how kind of you.”
I’m squashed up in the corner of the hallway. Half of my face is pressed up against the door and the rest of my body is parallel to the wall. I open my mouth and scream as loud as I can until his fist smashes into my mouth.
Fuck, that hurt.
I whimper and hold my hand against my jaw.
“Shut up, Ariel,” he says.
I remember watching a programme about what to do if you’re attacked by a shark. Michael isn’t a shark but right now he’s about as deadly as one, and I feel my fight-or-flight response kick in. When I feel his fingers begin to peel my knickers off, I know I’ve got to act quickly. I reach up and grip his head with my hands, shoving my thumbs into his eyeballs as hard as I can. I wince when I feel the sponginess and the wetness underneath them.
“Arrgh!” he calls out. He let
s go of my throat and my knickers to prise my hands away, giving me the opportunity to wriggle and buck my hips. I pull my leg up as hard as I can and feel the wrinkly skin the second before I bury my knee into his scrotum.
“Fuck!” he cries out.
His hands shoot down to hold his bits, and I pull one hand away then immediately slam it back down on his face. My elbow cracks against his cheekbone and his nose, making blood squirt out all over me. The noise of it is sickening.
“Bitch,” he mumbles before he slumps off me. My breaths are rasping in and out because of the pressure he had on my throat, but I don’t stop as I push him off me, pull my knickers back up and scramble to my feet. I race into the kitchen and grab the meat cleaver, then run to the dining table so that there’s something between us.
“That’s not a very nice way to thank me,” he calls out weakly, unable to hide the pain he’s in.
My hands are shaking, but I push my hair out of my face and try to focus. I need to get Noah, but Michael would catch me before I made it to the stairs. Maybe I can try Owen or Ben’s apartment? “Why should I thank you?” I call back.
“I covered for you,” he says, “when you murdered our parents.”
I flinch at his words. It’s not true. That’s not what happened. “I didn’t murder them,” I snarl. “You got out of your seat because you’re a dirty fucking weirdo. You made me crash. It was your fault! You deserved to be in prison.”
“You were all over the road,” he sneers, coming into view. He wipes the blood off his face and squints up at me. I notice he has several scars on his face that weren’t there when he was younger.
“I wasn’t doing anything illegal,” I stammer. “I would have gotten us all home safely.” I’ve been telling myself this all this time, but saying it just now is the only time that I’ve truly believed it.
He rolls his eyes as if he’s bored and then charges at me. I dither, moving right and then left because I can’t decide which way he’s going to go. When he gets to the table, he completely takes me by surprise by jumping up onto it and sliding across right towards me. I stumble backwards and then dart to the right, but he’s quick. His arm shoots out and grabs at my elbow. Without thinking, I swipe at him with the cleaver.
Noah and Me Page 30