“Are you two gonna kiss or not?”
I jump and realize that Noah and I have both been staring at one another, lost in thought and memories, letting them tangle us up and root us in place. Neither one of us has moved an inch. I glance over my shoulder at Ty McCabe, lounging against the door frame and staring between the two of us like he's waiting for something. I get the feeling he knows something that I don't.
“Tyson Monroe McCabe, get your fucking ass in here.” The man in question raises his pierced eyebrow and then winks at us, moving back into the living room with the sound of clanking bracelets and the scrape of combat boots.
“Do you want to take a walk?” Noah asks, drawing my attention back to him. His expression's much lighter now, like Ty has somehow reminded him of something more pleasant than this awkwardness that's sprouted between us. I don't like it. We've never been awkward together, not even when I started to realize my feelings for him back in high school. We've just been easy, carefree, perfect. I want that back, even if it is just in friendship. “So we can maybe talk about this?”
“About what?” I whisper, but I know what he means. This. Everything. The way he looks at me, the way I look at him, Tobias. I put my face in my hands and make a weird noise. Because I'm Zella and that's what I do. Luckily, Noah's used to my weird behavior and doesn't bat an eyelash. Not one single perfect eyelash. “This is about the sex, isn't it?”
“It's always about the sex,” Ty McCabe yells from the living room just a split second before I hear him grunt in pain.
Electricity singes my nerve endings as Noah takes my fingers and pries them gently away from my face. When I look up, his mouth is uncomfortably close to mine. If I rose up on my toes and leaned forward, we could touch our lips together, feel that aching burn inside that hurts so good and brings tears to my eyes.
“Is that a yes, you'll come on the walk with me?” I can feel his breath on my face. It smells like mint toothpaste and coffee. Oh my God. I take a step back, but let him hold onto my hands. If I can smell his breath, he can smell mine. I know I don't wake up with a mouthful of roses.
Okay. That's it. No more Noah Scott until I'm properly showered, groomed, and dressed.
“Yes,” I say firmly, shrugging and letting my hands drop to my sides when he releases them. No big deal, right? “I will take a nature walk with you, Noah Scott.”
After all, how bad could it possibly be?
10
I unload not one, not two, but seven boxes of crap from my car and store them in the guest room I'm using. It takes me that many tries to find the one that has my toothbrush in it. Ty helps me carry them upstairs which I appreciate. I wish it was Noah instead, but he's disappeared into his room to get ready.
“So you have a boyfriend?” Ty asks, like he can't quite believe the rumors are true. I imagine Never's told him pretty much everything, so I decide to stick with the honest route. At least for now. We'll see how honest I'm feeling when Beth rolls into the driveway in her minivan. I can already feel her eyes on me, see her lips twisting in disappointment when she realizes she's been slaving away at a crappy job for nothing. That I haven't bettered myself in any way. That I'll never be able to help her or anyone else in this family find a way to make it in the world. I've always tried to pretend it wasn't true, but I know I was a beacon of hope not just for Beth but for Jade and India and Lettie. Proof that even people like us could make it out of here and do something different, something better.
I've failed not just myself but everyone in my life that matters.
“I do.” I'm not sure where he's going with this conversation, so I try to act like it's no big deal to talk about Tobias Underwood or, as I've now started to refer to him in my mind, the Backstabber. “He's a wide receiver for my university's football team. His entire life goal is to get drafted by the NFL. After that, he says, everything else is a vacation.”
“Sounds boring as fuck,” Ty says, setting my box down on the bed. He turns to look at me, the stray shafts of sunlight in the room reflecting off the piercings in his face. He's got one in his eyebrow, one on the left side of his lip, and another in between his nostrils. Ty is so different from Noah that it makes it hard for me to compare them to one another. Never must've found some way to do it though, some way to put the two men side by side and figure out who made more sense. Or maybe she didn't. Maybe her heart spoke so loudly, she couldn't hear the sound of anything else. I wish I were like that, that I wasn't so analytical. It would make things a whole hell of a lot easier. “Why are you dating a douche nozzle like that when you could have Noah Scott?”
I blink at Ty like he's speaking a foreign language. He's a sweet guy, despite appearances, but I'm pretty sure he has no filter.
“What?”
He takes a step closer to me and puts his ringed hand on my shoulder. There's something comforting about his touch, like he's the big brother I never had but always wanted. I guess he really is now, right? I keep forgetting that he and Never are actually married. It all happened so fast.
“I see the way Noah looks at you, the way you look at him. I don't know what demons you two are fighting, but take it from someone who's battled off an entire horde: fuck 'em.”
“The demons?” I ask, lifting my own eyebrow in response. Ty snaps the fingers of his left hand and drops his right one off my shoulder.
“Damn straight. Fuck the demons. Screw 'em. Listen to me, Zella, they don't matter. None of it does. Not the drama or the angst or the bullshit. If you think you're in love with someone, listen to your fucking heart.”
“I … it's complicated,” I say, hoping to God that Noah can't hear us through the wall. Now, remind me, why did I pick the room next to his again?
“No, it's not. Space travel is complicated. This, this right here, this shit is easy. Humans were made to love, Zella. It's the only thing our species is really good at. If you found it, then snatch it up and hold it tight.” He pauses and nibbles at his lip ring for a moment. I can hear the faint sounds of Little Noah starting to cry. “Besides,” he looks at the open door behind me and then at my face, “if you took Noah Scott off my hands, I'd feel a fuck of a lot better about hanging out in my wife's ex-boyfriend's cabin.” He breezes past me, pausing for just a second to pat me on the back companionably, and then disappears around the corner.
Oddly enough, his advice makes me feel better. Somehow, even amongst all the cursing, he makes a valid point.
I take Ty's words with me into the bathroom, mulling them around in my head while I shower, put on some makeup, and dress myself in a pair of black jeans, a fitted white T-shirt, and a long navy blue trench coat to ward off the cold. Even though the sun is shining, I know that the air outside is brisk. The sky looks a little unsure of itself, like it could rain at any moment. Hopefully it waits until after our walk to drop the fury of winter down on the roof of the cabin.
I check my cellphone one more time before I leave the room.
cmg 4 u if u dnt answr
Hmm. Coming for you if you don't answer. That's a little creepy, even for Tobias. I send him a text detailing what a crazy ass stalker he is, how he's a backstabbing liar, and how I don't ever want to see him again, and then throw the phone on the bed. The last thing I need is to hear it buzzing in my pocket when I'm trying to have a conversation.
“I hope you weren't waiting long,” I say as I try to avoid looking at Ty and Never making out on the couch, and head outside. Noah's waiting for me on the porch, leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He's got on a red wool coat and scarf, a knitted cap, and a pair of brown work boots that I've never seen before. His blonde hair sticks out the bottom of the hat, trailing into his eyes but still leaving them open and crystal fucking clear. The cold highlights his cheeks with little spots of pink as the icy breeze cuts across our exposed flesh and makes us both shiver.
“Nah,” he says softly, moving forward and down the porch steps, eyes lifted to the sky above us. “Just standing here trying to figure out if
it's going to snow.” He pauses. “Last year was crazy.” I know he's talking about the weather, about the unprecedented amount of snowfall we got for our area, but it feels like he's referencing something else, like he's specifically talking about Never's homecoming and our one-night stand.
“It was,” I say, heading down the steps and falling into place beside him. The dogs come tearing up through the bushes, side by side, making circles around us before planting their noses to the ground and leading the way into the trees. I watch their tails wagging as they disappear and reappear in the underbrush. “We got Never back. Finally. It was getting to the point where I actually believed we'd never see her again.” I wait for Noah to respond to that, but he doesn't. “You always knew she would though.” Still nothing from him. I turn and look at his face, eyes looking forward, scanning the trees, full lips set in a neutral position that gives absolutely nothing away. “Didn't expect her to bring a guy like Ty McCabe home though, did you?”
“I always worried that she'd go for a guy like Ty McCabe,” he says, surprising me. My fingers are cold, and I find myself wishing I was brave enough to reach over and thread them through Noah's. Instead, I take the cowardly route and jam them into the pockets of my coat. “Your sister's so … I don't know what the word is. Spunky? It's what I loved about her. I just didn't know if I'd be enough. Looking at her now, I know I wouldn't be. Ty suits her.”
“He's definitely … spunky,” I say, and we both chuckle softly. Neither laugh feels genuine though. It's frustrating. Noah and I used to laugh so hard that we'd get stomach cramps. I'd snort and shriek and roll around on his bed and not care that he was seeing me at my most vulnerable. With Tobias, I was never like that. I never let my guard down around him because I knew it wouldn't go over the way I wanted, that I'd get hurt. The punching and the slapping and the throwing things, that was physical pain. For me, that's always been easier to deal with. It was the emotional stuff that hurt me the most.
“Zella,” Noah begins as a few, small icy drops smack the bridge of my nose and run down, sluicing between my lips as I blink up at the sky and try to judge how quickly this storm is coming. There's still some sunlight filtering down, but it's weak and doesn't offer much warmth. I focus on this because I can't focus on the sound of Noah's voice alone. If I do, I might break down and find myself unable to get up. “I really am sorry for the things I said last year. I know that an apology isn't an excuse, but I am. When I said I wasn't ready for a relationship, it's not because I didn't have feelings for you. I just didn't think it was fair to start something with you so soon after seeing Never again. I wanted to make sure that what I was going through didn't affect any sort of relationship we might have.”
“It's fine, Noah,” I tell him, even though it's not, even though there are a million things I want to say in response to that. I keep that back, give him a chance to explain, and analyze my surroundings. Northern Mississippi's forests are a lot different than the ones in the south. There are more hardwoods here, more oaks and hickories, and less pines. The understory is made up almost entirely of flowering dogwood, giving the place an ethereal, almost otherworldly beauty in spring. Noah and I are both a little geeky and have been known to come up here with guidebooks in hand, identifying the local flora for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Just because. I wish I could kiss him just because.
“It's not fine, Zella. I said things I shouldn't have said in that email. I'm sorry, really, I am.”
“Apology accepted,” I say because it's true. I forgive him for that. It's the things he can't change, that he can't apologize for that really make the idea of an us a remote possibility. “And I'm also sorry because I shouldn't have pressured you like that. Sleeping together was a big, big mistake.”
“Not for me. It's one of the few things in this life that I'm sure about. If I had to go back, I'd do it all over again. And again. And again.” He glances sidelong at me, and I try not to blush. Instead, I laugh and brush the compliment off as a joke.
“Don't you have any hot young coeds in your classes to take care of that for you?”
Noah doesn't say anything which bothers the crap out of me. It's not like I expected him to be celibate all these years, but just the idea that he was screwing people after our movie watching sessions, before coming over to my house, after sleeping back to back with me in his bed, that bothers me. A lot. More than I care to admit.
“I didn't want any hot, young coeds, Zella.” There are unspoken words clinging to that sentence. Words that I need him to say to move forward with this conversation. I didn't want any of them. The only person I wanted was you.
“Did you ever care for me like I did for you? Or was all the time we spent together just for fun? Something to pass the time while you were waiting for Never?” I trip over a root and stumble, just in time for a sea of fresh rainwater to come crashing down on my head. Noah catches me before I manage to tumble face forward into the dirt. His fingers are tight on my arm and his eyes serious. I try to stand up and pull away, but he won't relinquish his grip. “We should get back,” I blurt before he can answer my question. The sprinkles of rain have just turned into a monsoon.
“We became friends first, yeah, but Zella … things are different now.” I try to pull away again, but Noah takes a step forward, moving into my space, forcing my back against a tree. He gets so close that I can feel the warmth of his body penetrating the icy cold and cutting into me. My heart swells in my chest and I find it suddenly hard to breathe. “I know you have Tobias, Zella. You've been with him for two years, so there must be something about him that you love, but … ” He takes a deep breath and leans into me, putting his forehead against his mine. His lips when he next speaks are dripping with drops of cold water that quiver enticingly with his words. “But I don't. I don't have a Tobias. I don't have a hot coed. I don't have anybody because the only person I want is you.”
Shit.
Little thrills of energy shoot up from where his fingers are tightened around my arm, racing through my body and collecting at that little warm spot where our foreheads are pressed together. Noah Scott closes his eyes and sucks in a shuddering breath. Without meaning to, I reach my hand forward, slip it between the folds of his red wool coat and find tangible proof of his feelings. Noah's so hard, I can feel his erection straining against the confines of his jeans. Even then it's hard for me to put two and two together, to make the dreams I've had since I was fourteen match up with reality.
Rain patters down around us, the sound of it a soft, soothing lull that tricks the mind and convinces us that we're all alone out here. That it's just us. Me and Noah against the world.
I trail a finger along the seam of his pants, testing the waters, seeing where this takes us. When he groans against my mouth, I almost collapse to my knees in the mud. The only thing keeping me upright is his hand on my arm.
“Say something, please,” he whispers, but there are too many words in my mouth, too many thoughts, too many feelings. I wish I were like Ty or Never, wish I could just say how I felt and be done with it. But I can't. I have to think things over a hundred times or a thousand because nobody else in my family does. They all make rash decisions and do stupid things, and I just cannot for the life of me figure out why. So I overcompensate a little. Who wouldn't, given the situation I'm in? I just want things to be different for me, to work out like they're supposed to. I don't let myself think about Tobias and my toxic relationship, don't let myself think about school or financial aid or my student loans or anything practical like that. If I go there, I won't come back. It's just how I am.
I keep tracing the seam on Noah's pants, up and down, loving the feel of his body reaching out for me, reacting to me, just me and not Never. I reach for Noah's zipper and he doesn't stop me. This doesn't mean anything, I tell myself. This isn't sex. Isn't romance. We're just fooling around. I hear girls say that all the time at school. It's okay to kiss someone or touch their dick or let them finger you because it's not all the way. Well,
I'm not going all the way, so it's okay, right?
I unzip Noah's jeans and reach my hand inside, finding the waistband of his briefs. As soon as my fingers make contact with the bare flesh of his belly, he's gasping and droplets of water are falling from his lips to join with the myriad others sliding down my chest and soaking into my T-shirt. I don't even care that it's white, that the bra underneath is probably showing. Noah's eyes are still closed, his fingers tightening even further around my arm as I dip my hand lower and find exactly what it is I'm looking for.
“Zella,” Noah breathes, the sound of my name on his lips both a blessing and a curse. I want him to say my name, for my name to be the only one he ever whispers like that, but I can't lose myself in this fantasy. I can't be that girl for him. He already had that girl and she's moved on. I won't be a rebound. At the same time, I find my wet fingers wrapping around his cock, stroking another gasp from his moist lips.
I tilt my head to the side and lean forward, feeling Noah's warm breath against my frozen face, pushing my mouth against his until he opens for me, sliding his tongue against mine while I tease him with sure fingers. Why am I doing this to myself? To him? Why am I standing here acting on all the feelings I try so hard to bottle up and keep inside?
Noah tries to draw back, but I won't let him, squeezing tighter, kissing more fervently. He stumbles into me, pushing my back against the rough bark of the tree, grinding his cock against my grip. I do my best to taste every part of him, to absorb this memory and tuck it away, something to get me through the rough patches that I know are lying in wait ahead of me. I swirl my tongue over his teeth and nibble at his lip, raising my left hand up to tangle in that perfect blonde hair of his. It's so vibrant, like a swirl of sunshine against his skin. Who has hair like that? Like a tangle of light made solid, strands of brilliance woven together and wrapped around my fingers. I use my grip on his scalp to kiss harder, to push my tongue deeper.
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