She waved both hands at him. “No! Please don’t come over.”
Noah glared after pinstripe guy and she could see the anger thrumming inside him. Panic shot through her, its taste metallic on her tongue. He looked so—she hated herself for thinking it—mean. It was the easiest thing in the world to imagine Noah taking the pinstripe man outside and cracking him open like an egg. And not because of her, though that would be the excuse, but because he could. Because it would be easy.
For the millionth time, she wondered who Noah Newcomb was. Sam and Tabby knew so little about him. She knew so little about him. All around him men moved aside, tucked their girlfriends under their arms. How would it feel to have that power? To be so intimidating? Did it make you mean just on principle?
Noah’s nostrils flared and he sat down. Relief swamped her and, not wanting another excuse for him to get up, she turned and headed for the bar. He watched her leave. She could feel it. Her ass tingled like eyesight had a touch.
“How’d you go?” Tabby shouted when she returned to the dance floor with their drinks.
“Fine,” she lied. “Noah’s here. Did you invite him?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think he’d show.” Tabby took a long sip of ginger rum. “Did you know he’s fucking Kelly?”
Time did a little stop-reverse. “What?”
“Noah’s drilling Kelly. You know, Sam’s model.”
Oh, she knew Kelly. Five-eleven, blonde, pretty tattoos all over her tanned skin. She’d been on the cover of FHM and had twenty thousand Instagram followers. Sexy, sensual, sexpot Kelly. And she was having sex with Noah. Her gut twisted like a fish on a hook. She had no right to be upset, none whatsoever, but why had he made her feel…? How could she have ever thought…?
Tabby pounded her back. “Nix, brah. You cool?”
“How could he do that?”
Tabby raised a brow. “Eh?”
She swallowed, trying not to imagine Noah and Kelly in bed together, tall and tattooed and groaning in unison. “How could Noah do that to Sam? Kelly’s her favourite tattoo model. What if it ends badly and Sam can’t use her anymore?”
“Sam’ll live. And it won’t end badly. The dark horse knows what he’s doing.”
“Excuse me?” She could hear herself becoming prim. She always did that when she was upset.
Tabby drank more ginger rum, oblivious to her panic. “Uh, pretty much what I said. Noah gets laid like it’s his job.”
Nicole gaped at her sister. “But why? He’s so quiet and he’s covered in blackwork and he always looks angry and he’s just so not the kind of guy anyone fantasises about!”
She blurted it out like a confession, as though she wanted Tabby to solve the crime of her infatuation. But she just shrugged. “He’s big, man. He’s big and he’s mean and he looks like he could tear a boar apart with his bare hands.”
“So?”
Tabby rolled her eyes. “Christ, you’re naïve. Hey, I think that’s Murphy. Murph! Murph! Over here!”
Tabby darted away like a silverfish, leaving Nicole to her confusion. Noah and Kelly. Kelly and Noah. Her jealousy was so sharp she could have cut someone with it. Kelly. She could have cut Kelly with it. God, she needed help processing this. She looked around for Sam, but she and Scott were dancing to a Britney song in a way that said they were leaving as soon as it ended. She lined up for the bathroom and peed. When she got out of the stall, she splashed cold water on her wrists while she studied herself in the mirror. She looked fine. Good, even. But she didn’t look sexy. She’d always struggled with sexy. It wasn’t about looks—Sam was her genetic double and she was sexy. It was her personality that was wrong. She couldn’t show she was turned on in a non-embarrassing way. The sluttiest lingerie looked girly on her and she made dumb faces during sex. Aaron said she looked like was sitting on a pincushion. She’d cried and he’d apologised, but only because he’d hurt her feelings, not because it wasn’t true.
She looked at the bare finger where the ring used to be. If there was a time to give being sexy another try, the week she got dumped was a good bet. And if Noah really was a dark horse and definitely wasn’t ‘father of her children’ material, was there any harm in exploring…that, with him?
She looked into her own eyes, silently asking if Noah Newcomb made her feel sexy.
I don’t know, came the answer. He makes me feel exposed. Is that the same?
She didn’t think so, but maybe it was the start of sexy; that flaying, nowhere-to-hide sensation. Maybe if she followed it, sexy would pursue.
A girl gang burst into the bathroom, chatting and laughing. Nicole left the bathroom, not thinking, just moving. She found Noah in the same place, drinking a different beer and interacting with no one. She slipped into the seat beside him.
“Hello. You’re sleeping with Kelly.”
Noah squinted, as though unsure she was there. “You drunk?”
“No!”
A raised brow.
“Yes! But that’s not the point,” she said, louder than she intended. God, of all the times for the alcohol to kick in…she focused hard on Noah’s face, determined to keep her train of thought on track. “Do you want to know something?”
“Am I gonna hear it regardless?”
“Probably!” She leaned closer and his scent hit her in a rush of warm cedar. Was that cologne beneath the laundry detergent and fresh tobacco? Noah didn’t seem like the kind of guy who wore Giorgio Armani but then why did he smell so delicious? Was it his sweat? Some kind of pheromone? She leaned closer, trying to subtly inhale and almost toppled off her stool.
Noah gripped her arm, holding her in place. “Do you want me to get Sam?”
“Please, no. If they know I’m drunk, she and Tabby will start mothering me intensely.”
“And that’s your job, isn’t it?”
If she hadn’t seen his mouth move, she wouldn’t have believed he’d talked. Noah Newcomb saying something personal—and mildly bitchy—about her behaviour?
“I have to mother them,” she said with all the dignity her drunk tongue could muster. “Our mother left, you know, when Sam and I were eight and Tabby was four.”
His face softened. “I know. Sorry, Nikki.”
Her heart pulsed so hard it was like her weight was shifting. She looked at him, and the pure, unadulterated beauty of his irises made her say it. “Noah, do you know I’ve only slept with three guys?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Three more than me.”
“You know what I mean. That’s not enough. The first two were when I was in high school. That’s not normal.”
God he was so close, so close and his eyes were the colour of a football field, so green and lovely and his lips were nice too, fuller than she’d realised. She remembered that night in the hallway, when they’d almost, kind of kissed, and a zap wove itself down her stomach and between her legs.
“Nicole.” Noah’s face wavered in front of her like Christmas lights. “You want some water?”
She shook her head, wanting to say it so bad, it was almost scary. She bit her cheeks and the pain incited action. “I want you…us…to…you know. Tonight.”
Noah face grew stony. He looked as angry as he had when pinstripe shirt elbowed her. “Not gonna happen.”
It was lucky she’d taken so many blows to her emotional system this week. The rejection hurt, but it was a dull ache, not a sting. Not anything that would make her cry. She’d go home and examine her bruises tomorrow. She stood, feeling delicate but steady. “Okay, bye.”
She turned and walked away and it would have been fine, only her heel caught on a slippery thing—lime wedge?—and then she was on the floor, her knees, chin, and palms throbbing with the impact of her fall. There was a collective gasp over the music and fifty hands seemed to pull her to her feet.
“Are you okay?” a redhead asked.
“I’m fine.” She brushed her hands down Sam’s dress, hoping Noah hadn’t seen her. That he’d had a heart at
tack. That she’d been imagining him this whole time and he didn’t really exist. Without looking back at him, she headed for the exit, pretending she couldn’t feel her throbbing skin.
A warm hand closed around her shoulder. “You okay?”
Nicole felt her eyes prickle. “Don’t. Please, just don’t.”
Noah didn’t let go. He turned her to face him, gentle but unrelenting. Nicole kept her gaze on his shoes. If he was laughing, even slightly amused, she’d die from embarrassment.
“Nikki…” He slid a finger under her chin, tilting her face up.
He wasn’t smiling. His expression was as sternly neutral as it always was and that was a comfort, as real and warm as his hands.
“I’ll take you back to yours,” he said. “Come on.”
He slid an arm around her and her whole body tingled with beautiful electricity.
Chapter 4
The street outside was packed and throbbing with the music from the bar. Nicole looked around for a taxi, but Noah took her arm. “I’m parked in the side street.”
“You drove?”
“Yup, only had two beers.”
Her mortification doubled. He’d remember in HD sobriety the way she’d propositioned him and chin-stacked and all the other humiliating crap she’d done tonight. She shook her arm, trying to break his grasp. “I have to go back. I left my bag inside.”
Noah didn’t budge. “You didn’t bring a bag. Come on, Nikki. When you hit the deck, the night’s over. That’s the rules.”
She’d have told him to shove his rules, but a crowd of lads walked past, hollering and whooping to line up at the door. With Noah at her side, they acted like she was invisible, but if she had to queue to get back in, she doubted they’d be polite. And her knees and chin and palms were still stinging. “Fine. Let’s go.”
He led her to his van, walking slowly so she could match his stride. “Is your head okay?”
“I landed on my chin,” she said, trying to sound like it didn’t matter. As though none of this mattered. Noah’s half smile said she wasn’t pulling it off.
Noah’s van sat white and dusty on the side-street. He opened the passenger side door for her. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She practically leapt inside trying to prove it. It made her wounded knees ache. She’d ridden in Noah’s van before and the smell was familiar—cigarettes, dust and a cinnamon sweetness she couldn’t place. It was nice. In fact, everything about being out of the noise and heat of the bar was nice.
Noah climbed into the driver seat, pulling his seatbelt across his chest. The sight made her giggle. The sight and all the gin.
He frowned. “What?”
“You’re too scary-looking to put safety first.”
Noah didn’t smile, but the lines beside his mouth got a little deeper. “You want food or something before I take you home?”
“Can’t we go back to your place?” she asked, emboldened by his almost-grin.
Noah’s jaw worked like he was chewing gum. “I said I was taking you to yours.”
“…and coming inside…?”
“No.”
This time the rejection stung. She must be sobering up. “Why not? You’re always looking at me like you want to see me naked. Or are you making fun of me?”
Noah leaned over, grabbing her seatbelt buckle. She flinched. “What are you doing?”
He smiled then, a cold flash of teeth, and he drew the seatbelt across her chest, snapping it into place.
“Oh, um, thanks.”
He gave her a look she couldn’t parse.
“What?”
He didn’t answer, just pulled out his keys and started the engine. They set off down Greville Street and Nicole let her head loll to the side. She felt like someone had scraped a knife over her drunkenness and was determinately chipping away to the hurt waiting for her in sobriety. No sisters or work or even casual sex for distraction. It was back to reality now.
A week ago, I was engaged, she thought. Now I’m single with two skinned knees. How did this happen?
She heard a strange sound and turned to see Noah snapping a lighter in front of the cigarette in his teeth. She watched the end become an electric cherry.
“You shouldn’t smoke in here,” she said.
“It’s my van.”
She’d give him that one. She returned her gaze to the street. Three girls in mini-dresses were having a fight, pointing their fingers and flicking their hair. She was extra glad to be on her way home. “Thanks for the ride.”
Noah rolled down the window. He looked angry for some reason she couldn’t help but feel responsible for. She considered asking him what was wrong, but history dictated this would go unanswered. She tried for small talk. “Why do you have a van?”
“Because I do.”
Her temper flared like the end of his cigarette. “Is it that hard to say ‘I like the colour’ or ‘I won it in a bet?’ Do you really have to be grumpy all the time?”
Noah looked over at her, his eyes lovely in the yellowish glow of the streetlamps. “You want to talk meaningless shit so you don’t have to think?”
“I wanted to sleep with you, but that’s not an option, apparently.”
The corners of his mouth quirked.
“Are you laughing at me? Because if you are, I will jump out of this car.”
“It’s a van.”
“Yeah it is! A creepy van. Isn’t it enough that you’re huge and covered in tattoos? Do you really need to drive a van?”
They stopped at a red light. Noah dragged on his cigarette. The end burned like the light holding them in place. Stupidly, she realised they were alone for the first time since they’d kissed in the dark. She folded her arms over her chest, wishing she was already in bed. The silence stretching between them was excruciating. At least it was for her. Maybe Noah didn’t give a damn. The light turned green and they drove on.
“How long have you smoked?” she asked, because she needed to break the tension.
“A while.”
In someone else, that might have meant a few years, but Nicole bet Noah was one of those ratty pre-teens who hung out on street corners, blowing smoke at strangers. Burlesquing as the adults they wanted to be. Silence swooped over them and she twisted her fingers in her lap. They weren’t even close to Brunswick. This was torture.
“Okay.”
Her mouth went dry. “Okay to what?” Okay to sex?
“We’ll talk, if that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
But Noah didn’t respond, just kept smoking and staring ahead. She clicked her tongue. “When you said, ‘we’ll talk,’ did you mean ‘sit here in silence, making me doubt every decision I’ve ever made?’”
His mouth quirked. “You’re trying to be cute.”
“Is that a crime?”
Noah ground his cigarette butt into a tray on the dash. “Why do you want me to fuck you?”
Nicole blinked, half-sure she’d misheard him. “Um, why not?”
“Not good enough.”
She sat up a little straighter. “Do people need a reason to do sex?”
“No.”
“But I do?”
Noah didn’t say anything. He looked angry again. She chewed her tongue. She could call him out, but why? Her life was sad enough without trying to debate Noah Newcomb into bed. If he didn’t want to sleep with her, that was his decision.
Noah opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“Ooh, what?”
He shook his head, clearly irritated with himself. Nicole turned toward him, oddly excited. “Come on, you can tell me!”
Noah grimaced. “You’re scared of me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You freaked out when I put your seatbelt on. And you told me to stay away when that asshole shoved you at the bar.”
Was this what he was mad about? Why he didn’t want to sleep with her? Nicole laughed, she was so relieved. “That seatbelt thing was involuntary, and th
at pinstripe guy wasn’t worth starting a fight over. I hurt myself more when I fell over.”
Noah didn’t seem to think this was a good explanation. He glared out into the traffic, looking angrier than ever.
“Now you know I’m not scared of you, can we hook up?” she asked, figuring it was worth another shot. “It’s okay if you’re not attracted to me, but now seems like the right time. You know, since we’re alone and single and we have nothing better to do.”
Noah’s jaw jutted. “You think I’ll jam my dick into anything that breathes, don’t you?”
“Isn’t that…your deal?”
Bad idea. Noah’s lip curled and in the shadowy light, he looked so genuinely frightening, Nicole recoiled.
“Sorry, but I thought you slept around.”
“Who told you that?”
“Tabby. She says you’re a dark horse.”
Noah slumped back into his seat. “I haven’t…that’s a new development.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer. Silence swelled between them again. Nicole twisted her fingers together, linking the bones as tightly as she could. “You know, if you don’t think of me like that, you can just say so. I know I’m not sexy and Kelly is. And all the other girls you’re with probably are, too.”
This was followed by another silence, this one tight as tooth floss.
“What?”
Nicole blanched. “I…what do you mean?”
“Who the fuck told you you’re not sexy?”
“Um, Aaron, kind of, but I’ve never been sexy. Not like Sam or Tabby. But it’s not a comparison thing, I’m just weird when it comes to sex. I pretend I’m somewhere else and I can’t relax. It just doesn’t work.”
Noah flicked open his cigarette packet and placed a fresh one between his teeth, his movements rough and jerky.
“Are you angry because I don’t think I’m sexy?”
He nodded.
Nicole’s head throbbed. From the alcohol or disappointment, she wasn’t sure. “Why?”
He shook his head, snapping his lighter to create another red cherry. The sudden light combined with the curl of his lips made him look rakish. Nicole pictured Noah’s big mean tattoos peeking around the corners of a tailored suit. Her insides squeezed tight. They were almost at her place. She was never going to know why he wouldn’t sleep with her, and tomorrow she’d be sober enough to regret everything. She twisted her hands together and gasped as a bone in her index finger popped.
So Steady: Silver Daughters Ink, Book Two (Silver Daughters Ink Book Two) Page 4