Noah (More Than Friends Book 2)

by Fiona Keane

  “That’s terrible,” I commiserated. “I’ve been there, doing what you did tonight with Ben. We all handle this world’s shit in our own way.”

  “I thought competing against a drunk paramedic named Billy would help me feel better.”

  “His name is Ben.” I chuckled, unwinding myself from Lizzie once her tears stopped. I lifted her chin with my fist, catching her blue gaze with a grin. “How about this sober paramedic walks you home, gives you his phone number, and you meet him for coffee this weekend?”

  “I’d like that.” Lizzie smiled at me, and I was floored, enamored for God’s sake, by the faint wrinkles of her smile lines tightening my gaze to hers.

  As we walked south in the direction of the downtown bar crawl, along the streets bordering Lake Mendota, I was literally at home. We wandered through the sporadic piles of college kids, some puking on the boulevards and others squealing or sobbing over something I thanked God was ancient history to my life. Although I rescued those same kids from alcohol, fights, and hazing regularly, so their drama was my livelihood on some nights.

  Lizzie put her hand around my shoulder when we turned onto Gilman, five blocks from my apartment. “I’m just up this block.”

  “You’re on my running route.” I grinned at serendipity. “We’ve probably crossed paths before.”

  “I think I’d remember that.” She giggled. “Do you run shirtless? I’d definitely remember that. There’s one guy who runs twice a day, almost naked too. He’s memorable.”

  “Not me,” I pouted. “I might take off my shirt, but there’s something to be said for leaving a little to the imagination.” Lizzie’s mouth parted, her eyes wide and on me. I looked at our feet, taking one step closer to Lizzie so our toes touched. I wonder what color her toenails are painted. Does she even paint her toenails? I bet she’s a dark blue, sparkly red, bright purple kind of girl. I felt her arm tremble as her hand fell from my shoulder, returning my attention to Lizzie and her bottom lip rolling inward between her teeth as she stared at me.

  Lifting my palm to cup her cheek, I leaned forward and softly pressed my lips to her temple. It was light enough for a friend but smooth enough to give us both something to consider once we were alone.

  As I pulled away, I wiped my thumb along her cheekbone and smirked at her. “I like leaving things to the imagination.”

  ***

  I hadn’t heard from Lizzie and, while I tried to suppress the pesky tickle in my chest when I thought of the possible reasons for why she hadn’t called me in three days, I was actually nervous. I worried I’d overstepped, maybe she forgot about me, maybe she really did like Ben, but most importantly I was afraid for Sean. I tried asking around the station once I’d returned to work, but nobody knew anything else about his case, and Esme was even less helpful the two subsequent times I was at the hospital for emergencies.

  The chief caught my arm in the hall as I was peeling off my sweatshirt after a shift. “Rossi, the baby you delivered today?”

  “Yeah?” I tossed my sweatshirt on the pile of my stuff in the corner, scratching my hands through my hair.

  “Healthy. Mom is, too. Good job, kid.” He slapped my back. “I need you to take a double. You up for it?”

  I peered at the clock behind him. “Sure.” I hesitated. “You’ll let out Muffin?” He laughed while nodding in response, holding his hand out for my keys. I reached into my pocket and pulled the small chain, handing it to him.

  “I’ll bring him here,” he stated while walking away, twirling my keys between his fingers. “Hit the shower, then catch up with Nina for tonight.”

  I stood with my fingers knotted on top of my head, turning from side to side in the room of bunks. With the chief getting my dog, I had no excuse but to get started on my next shift. It wasn’t like I had someone at home waiting for me…I needed to rip the heart from my sleeve and quickly.

  I’d learned to shower in five minutes or less, mostly less thanks to the demands of my job. I didn’t ask who the double was for or why I needed to cover it, but when I stood with a towel around my waist catching Ben’s bloody reflection in the mirror, I knew it would be a long night.

  “What are you smiling at?” he sneered, rubbing his jaw. I watched him in the mirror as he took off his soiled uniform and grumbled under his breath while I got dressed. Ben winced near his locker, the sound of his fist on the metal doors echoing his groan. I leaned against the lockers while he spoke, waiting with my arms crossed and bicep pressing into the cold metal.

  “To start,” he paused, struggling to speak between the sounds of exaggerated pain, “I’m going home. I hate that damn block party downtown. I wish they’d shut it down. It was a battlefield out there.”

  I flinched, my muscles tight. “I hate that word.”

  Ben’s face flushed, his body limp while his frustrated expression fell with a hand extended to me apologetically. “I’m sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking. Have you…heard anything?”

  “No,” I turned away from him, “not since February.” I want Muffin. I want a drink.

  Ben finished getting dressed and joined me near the sink where I splashed water on my face to try and take the edge off. His palm smacked between my shoulder blades, and I looked up at his smiling face, his brows lifting playfully.

  “How about that girl from the other night?” Now I want Lizzie.

  “She’s a friend,” I lied. “A friend going through some serious shit. Look, man, I’m just not in the mood right now. I’ll see you later.” Without further explanation to Ben, I threw on my clothes and left the locker room. Thinking of getting called up felt strangely burdensome, filling me with a restless edge I couldn’t quite overcome this time around.

  The unease nagged at me all evening, lingering over my shoulders while I stitched wounds after two bar fights, held a toddler whose smoke alarm went off, and most of all while I agitatedly paced the station waiting for the chief. I was sprawled along a sofa when he entered the room, my gaze glossed over while I stared at particles in the air. Muffin’s dripping jowls slid along my forearm as he tried to climb onto the couch with me but couldn’t because his ancient joints resisted. I came to; thankful my buddy was there.

  “Here,” the chief grunted, dropping a small blue bag on my stomach. Lifting Muffin onto my chest, I peered over his rotund frame at the sparkling ribbon holding the bag’s handles together.

  “Don’t hate me for forgetting our anniversary, babe,” I teased him. “Boss made me pull a double, and I couldn’t stop for your flowers.”

  “Cute,” he mocked with a laugh, rolling his eyes at me. “It was on your porch.” That piqued my interest, considering Callie was too narcissistic or selfish to fathom ever gifting someone anything except for regret; I didn’t know who else would have given me something. I sat up and reached for the bag, poking one finger between the layers of tissue paper to look inside.

  “It isn’t going to bite you, Rossi,” the chief groaned. He approached me, arms extended for my betraying dog to climb into, and started to pace while whispering something to Muffin.

  My back ached from the thin cushions of the couch as I leaned forward to place the bag between my feet on the floor. Muffin wiggled from the chief’s arms, happy to swat at the balls of tissue paper I tossed against the floor. There was a small glass bowl inside, swelling the plastic lid with its contents. I reached for the handwritten card, opening the lid and swiftly dying at the delicious scent of chocolate chip cookies.

  I think my tired eyes rolled backward with each inhale of those cookies, falling like a stereotype into mush when my stomach rumbled with hunger and my heart thumped as I read the card.

  Mermaid,

  One is on my side. The other is hard to find.

  I also like to leave things to the imagination.

  Enjoy your cookies and call me if you ever feel like taking a walk again.

  Lizzie

  I reread Lizzie’s note six times before realizing I held my breath. I knew she was talkin
g about her tattoos, and that about destroyed what remained of my resolve. My jaw throbbed while I grinded my teeth, failing to resist the smile she brought to my face. All thoughts of my conversation with Ben from the beginning of my double vanished for a moment, replaced by the deliriously taunting image of Lizzie and where her third tattoo might be. Days. I’d known her days and she consumed my thoughts.

  “Callie?” I heard the chief question while stepping away from me, my dog nuzzled into his elbow with a soft snore accompanying my boss’s word.

  “No,” I snapped. Hell no. She is not about to come anywhere near this. I took my phone from my pocket, my fingers actually shaking. I debated whether it was the caffeine required for my double shift or her, knowing it was actually Lizzie who shook me. What do I say? Hi? I think you’re incredible and I also like you way more than I should? Shit. Should. What a subjective bastard of a term. I should like her. Her wit was enough to do me in the first time I saw her, let alone when she proposed. I had to text her, and it needed to be on par with her card.

  Me: You do realize once we’re married I’ll know where your tattoos are?

  I pinched my lip between my thumb and index finger while I waited, trying to subdue the hormonal rush that washed over me while waiting for her reply. I save lives, I’d like to think I’m strong, but I hadn’t felt the uncertainty of waiting for a girl since Jade years ago, and…she’d like Lizzie. A lot. I had to tell myself that. Callie was a mistake, Jade was gone, and Lizzie…Lizzie was now. But who knows when I’ll be gone? I couldn’t focus on the future. I needed now. I’d deal with the rest whenever it came.

  Lizzie: I’ll have to get more to spice up our marriage.

  Me: Feel like walking?

  Lizzie: That depends…

  Me: On…

  It took seven painful minutes for her to reply, but when she did, I lost feeling in everything below my waist and I almost passed out.

  Lizzie: How far you’ll take me.

  Flirting with Lizzie was going to kill me. I knew my skin was red; I could feel the burn her humor brought without looking in a mirror to tell I’d turned into a frustrated tomato. I wrote back with one more message about my shift ending around one in the morning, but she didn’t write back. I tried not to overthink things. I wanted her but hardly knew her…and that was exciting as hell.

  The rest of my shift was an anxious balance of babysitting recruits while snuggling my dog, whenever the traitor chose me over the chief, and trying to let thoughts of Lizzie and her tattoos distract me from reality. When I finally left the station, I met the pouring rain with a crowd of students stumbling along the sidewalk on their path home. I waited on the pavement, stuffing my phone into my pocket and adjusting Muffin’s leash while I watched the group. The pellets of water hammering against my skin were a welcomed relief as I stood motionlessly, following the group with only my gaze as they approached the Capitol Square. My grasp around the bag of Lizzie’s cookies tightened when I thought of her that night when our simple, sobering walk of a few hours felt like an amble we’d done already for a lifetime.

  The itch of needing to resort to Silas tickled its way into my latest ink, but I scratched my stomach with my free hand, sure that the angst was okay. This time. It wasn’t something I wanted to forget. This angst, the uncertainty, felt…exhilarating. Until I pondered the risk of leaving.

  I needed to see her, not Silas, not a tattoo, not a drink with Nadia, not a night at home awaiting the inevitable. As Muffster and I followed the path of drunks and roamers across the Capitol toward home, I devised my plan.

  ***

  It was almost one-thirty, and I knew it was risky. But I also knew I wanted to see her, and she wanted to see me. I met Lizzie in the middle of an emotional tornado, our introduction the aftermath of a traumatic event that would linger with her as long as Sean was alive. She needed something to cheer her up, and I had just the idea. It helped me, at least.

  I stood at the intersection where just a few nights ago I hugged Lizzie, trying to be an anchor when she thought of Sean. I couldn’t imagine much of the guy, only seeing his lifeless body as I cared for his loved ones, but even the idea of him was enigmatic and enticing. Who was this guy whose life was so intricately woven into the souls of his friends? This guy was everything to them, and I was there for what could’ve been his end, what was our beginning. Lizzie and me. I hoped. Shit.

  I was getting too far ahead of myself. I knew better, but…I just couldn’t stop thinking about her. I didn’t want to stop thinking about her. I’d pay the consequences later, but it was right now that I stood outside of her building with my teeth nervously piercing my bottom lip. What if she’s asleep or thinks I’m a creep? She made me cookies. Girls don’t do that for creeps. I looked at her front door, shuffling my feet and wiggling my fingers in the rain. She’s proposed, delivered cookies to my house, and flirted like a minx. The least I could do was politely text to see if she was awake. It took me a few minutes of rattling fingers against a slippery phone screen to figure it out, but I kept to my plan.

  Me: Walking shoes = on. Me = waiting for you.

  I counted. Five minutes passed. It was pouring, no threat of storm, a perfectly peaceful summer monsoon, and I didn’t care that the toes of my shoes were getting damp while waiting in a puddle feet away from Lizzie.

  Lizzie: Me = in bed. You = where?

  Me: Outside.

  Lizzie: Me = on my way.

  Her response was instant, sending my heart and all my blood into my boxers in one hot, sweeping motion that rattled me. I looked at her message a few times to assure myself I hadn’t lost my mind from sleep deprivation, grinning stupidly in the rain while I waited for Lizzie. Stuffing my phone back into my pocket, I stared at the sky while trying to pick out individual streams of rain. Really, I was trying to get my shit together and compose myself before her door opened.

  Chapter Seven

  My arms were crossed, and I watched rain pool in the nook of my elbows, almost missing the movement of Lizzie’s blonde hair against the darkened sky. I felt sick, but in a good way, like my heart jumped into my throat, and the overwhelming feeling of weakness was my body melting because, at one-thirty in the morning, Elizabeth Jacqueline Lewis was absolutely breathtaking.

  “Mermaid,” her grin brightened the air, “you’re late.” She spoke without reservation, not giving a damn if her neighbors woke, and I liked it. Lizzie’s toes touched mine before she stood on them, lifting her height to peck my cheek. Lowering with a gentle smile on her pink lips, Lizzie linked her left arm with my right and began talking as though we’d been together for years and I’d just run out for milk.

  “Do you want to know why I’m late?” We started to walk, Lizzie’s head on my shoulder as the rain dribbled over us, streaming along our path.

  “Is it because you were busy saving lives?”

  “No,” I snickered, “I was stuffing my face. You baked me cookies…” I turned to catch her smile. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me.”

  “If you think that’s sweet…” She laughed into the rain, shaking her head without finishing her statement. “I’m glad you put on your walking shoes. Where are you taking me?”

  I wanted to tell her the hopeless, naïve part of me was ready to take her anywhere and everywhere, but I shoved my heart back into my chest and told her we were going downtown. It was only a few blocks, and neither of us cared about the rain. There was something about walking with Lizzie I’d never felt before, and that was totally my heart talking while it wrapped itself back against my sleeve, battling my balls for control.

  The bar was overflowing, even minutes from last call, and I quickly took Lizzie’s fingers between mine to guide us through the crowd to a booth in the back corner. Once the exhausted server dropped menus, I shook off my jacket and helped Lizzie from hers, hanging both on a hook next to our table. She slid into the booth, her painted nails tapping along the menu while she studied it.

  “What can I get
you?” A man stopped at the booth, looking between Lizzie and me. Her eyes shot to mine, not having a chance to decide.

  “Fries and,” I looked to Lizzie, my eyes squinting for approval, “two glasses of merlot?” She eagerly nodded her agreement, tossing her menu toward the server before he buzzed away. Her tapping fingernails met as she intertwined her fingers atop the table, pressing her chest against them while leaning toward me.

  “I love this place,” she squealed, “but isn’t it going to close soon?”

  “Yep, but I needed the walk after your cookies, and I like walking with you, Lizzie,” I told her, watching her blue eyes actually sparkle. “I figured you wouldn’t mind, and perhaps that was assumptive, but considering we’re more than friends…” I couldn’t finish. She scooted out of her seat, quickly squishing me against the wall as her thigh met mine. Lizzie’s cold, wet fingers held my jaw on each side, a cool relief against my skin. She softly tugged down, our foreheads meeting with eyes frantic.

  “Do you really know which muscle to pinch so someone goes limp?”

  I erupted with laughter, held in her palms. “What!” Of all the things to discuss, of all the ways I wanted to tell her that her perfume was morphine to my pain, how deliriously good it felt as her fingernails mindlessly tickled my stubble, and she wanted to discuss something so ridiculous.

  “In the hospital, you told me you knew which muscle to pinch so someone goes limp? I want to know if you were talking about the heart because, Noah, I don’t know you, and you’re making me a pile of mush.” Okay, not ridiculous. Fucking incredible, actually. I was mush.

  The server returned with our wine and fries, giving me two seconds to reflect on Lizzie’s words.

  “You made me cookies…and you just called me Noah. I don’t know who that guy is, but if he’s got your heart after just a few dates, he’s one lucky bastard.” Her fingers tightened around my chin, pinching me in revenge for my banter. I let my mouth fall into a grin, unable to resist, while staring at Lizzie. “Mermaid’s grown on me. And I’d really like to kiss you now, drink this wine, eat our fries, and take you on another walk.”