by Shandi Boyes
“I’m Emily, your roommate.”
After returning my hands-off greeting with a smile, she glances over my shoulder to Noah, who’s propped on his elbows, watching our exchange with curious eyes. When her gaze drifts back to me, she gives me a brazen wink. "I can't blame you." She giggles, her cheeks inflaming.
I can’t blame her either. Much to Noah’s disgrace, Jacob has dragged him to some work out sessions at his local gym, meaning his muscles are more defined. Although I’d prefer she keep her eyes off Noah’s assets, surprisingly, I don’t feel threatened by her. She reminds me a lot of Jenni, whom I’ll miss dearly since she’s studying in New York.
There are no decent fashion courses at Parkwood State College, so Jenni and I said a tearful goodbye last Friday when I drove her to the airport. My heart pangs just thinking about her living in a different state, but we promised to visit as often as possible, and Wednesday nights between five and ten are blocked solely for each other. No interruptions. Just us.
My eyes drop when the blonde thrusts out her hand in offering. “I’m Crystal. I dropped off some things yesterday and had planned on that being my bed, but I guess you can have it.”
I smile, loving her carefree attitude. She seems genuinely fun, but with an edge of mysteriousness—just like Noah.
When I wave for Noah to join us, he hops up from the bed, yanking on his shirt in the process. When he stops at our side, I gather his hand in mine, preparing to introduce him, but Crystal steals my opportunity.
“Please don’t do that for me. You're more than welcome to walk around shirtless any time you like.” Her teeth rake her lower lip as her flirtatious gaze drinks in an up-close Noah. “It isn’t like I haven’t seen it all before.”
My heart falls from my ribcage. If I find out she's slept with my boyfriend, I’m going to need a new roommate. Noah has been upfront about the hookups he had before we got together, but there’s no chance in hell I’ll share a dorm room with someone he’s slept with. That’s way above my level of understanding. Just the thought has me wanting to slap someone.
My eyes drift to Noah when his thumb glides over the hand crushing his so powerfully, I’ll be surprised if he can play guitar this month. When he gets my focus, he shakes his head, wordlessly assuring me my sudden shift in demeanor isn’t required.
Relief swamps me. Noah doesn’t lie—not even when he should—so I have no reason to distrust his silent assurance that he doesn’t know who Crystal is.
As Noah settles my paranoia as only he can, Crystal rummages through a box sitting on our desk. I don’t know what she’s looking for, but her face lights up when she finds it. With glee lining her face, she rushes back to Noah’s side. The reason for her giddy response comes to light when she hands Noah the demo album Rise Up created three months ago.
“Can you please sign this? I’m a huge fan; I haven’t missed a show all summer.”
Noah smiles a beaming white grin. “Sure.”
My heart rate soars, loving that I get to witness him signing his very first album cover. Crystal’s request also reveals how she’s seen Noah shirtless before. I’ve watched Rise Up perform every Friday since the month we began dating. Noah’s sex appeal on stage is blistering—that may have something to do with him performing shirtless for a majority of the show.
When I questioned why, he said the lights on stage are so hot, it’s more comfortable performing without a shirt. It was only after his band members snickered behind him did he confess it also helps bring in the female fans.
Noah’s bandmates are an odd match, but they have a massive following of female fans. That’s not surprising considering each member is gorgeous in his own way. Although their handsome faces and panty-wetting bodies get their fans in the doors, their talent keeps them coming back for more.
I’m not biased when I say Rise Up is extremely talented. I swear to god, it took everything I had to keep my hands off Noah after watching him perform for the first time. The entire experience was exhilarating.
Once Noah finishes signing Crystal’s CD, he hands it back to her. She jumps into the air, squealing like a jubilant teen. “Thank you so much.” She shifts on her feet to face me. “Could you ask the rest of the band to sign it for me? I’d die a thousand deaths.”
Her excitement jumps to my face. “Sure...” I pause, building the suspense. “Or I could introduce you to them after one of their gigs, and you could ask them to sign it for you.”
Her mouth gapes open, shocked by my offer. She shouldn’t be stunned; the guys would be thrilled to meet her. They always have time for their dedicated fans.
“Thank you so much!” She squeezes my arm, her joy uncontained. “I need to tell my friend Trish.”
After squeezing me to within an inch of death, Crystal spins on her heels and rushes out of our room. I’m not a part of Noah’s group, but excitement still thickens my blood. I'm so incredibly proud they’re starting to get the recognition they deserve. They’ve worked relentlessly the past six months writing enough songs to fill two albums. They don't have a label yet, but they scraped together enough coin to organize a demo album.
Ricco, the sound engineer they hired, printed off an additional hundred CDs to sell to their fans on the condition that they’d remember him when they’re famous. If today is anything to go by, I don’t see that being too far off.
Feeding off the hype, Noah bands his arms around my waist to spin me around the room. “Can you believe it? I just signed my first album cover—in front of my girl. Life can’t get better than this.”
He continues spinning me until dizziness overtakes the euphoria pumping through my veins. “Please stop.”
If he doesn’t adhere to my demand, my room will be decorated with vomit instead of the hundreds of collages Jenni and I put together during Noah’s many rehearsals this summer. A mere second before barf lands on his shoes, Noah stops spinning me mid-twirl. He holds me flush against him for several minutes, as if panicked I’ll disappear.
“Are you okay?”
I want to say sudden changes in his mood are uncommon, but unfortunately, that isn't the case. His emotions at times can seem like a rollercoaster: soaring to great heights before crashing to devastating lows. His past has a lot to do with that. Although he has no reason to, he feels guilty any time he’s enjoying life. After placing me down, Noah saunters to the rumpled bed we were making out on.
“I’m alright.” He pats the comforter, offering up the spot next to him. When I plop down, I drape my arm over his shoulders, tightening my grip when he confesses, “I was just thinking about how much Chris would have loved witnessing me sign my first cover.”
My heart breaks for him as it does every time he talks about his brothers. He told me about the accident responsible for his little brother’s death the night we made love for the first time. I was devastated for him—so much so, uncontrollable sobs shuddered through my body. I should have been comforting him, but it was Noah who rubbed my back for hours, consoling me.
Although that night was both the best night of my life and the lowest, some good came from his confession. It made me realize the months of torment I endured from my peers was barely a blip on the radar compared to the heartbreak he had suffered. I was convinced nothing could be worse than being hated by my classmates, but now I feel foolish I let them get the best of me. Don’t get me wrong, at the time, their cruel words stung like a thousand bees, but it also made me a better person by ensuring I’ll never treat anyone how I was treated.
That’s why, when I woke hours later still cuddled into Noah’s chest, recalling that he never said what happened to his eldest brother, I refused to break his heart for the second time that night. Instead, I worshipped his body, matching his earlier intensity, showing him how courageous and loved he was using nothing but my body. It turned our night around in an instant, and made me fall in love with him even more than I thought possible.
Knowing how brutally broken he was, but still having the courage to b
e gentle and kind to those around him shows how much of a badass he is. His heart was broken, but big enough to still work despite its cracks.
A few weeks after we made love for the first time, I found out from Jacob that Noah’s eldest brother committed suicide on the fourth anniversary of Michael’s death. They don’t know if it was the combination of the drugs in Chris’s system, or because he couldn’t take the pain any longer that lead to his decision.
Chris was only twenty-one years old, the same age Noah is now. He was so young. I couldn’t imagine losing Noah at the same age. Just the thought has tears pricking my eyes.
The heat of my breaths fans Noah’s neck when I murmur, “I love you.”
He sucks in a ragged breath like my words are too much for him to bear, but not even a hurricane could stop him from replying. “I love you too.”
When my eyes rise to his, my heart swells. They’re nowhere near as troubled as they were moments ago. Surrounding him with the people he loves will show him that he’s not alone, but just in case it doesn’t, I sweeten the deal by sealing my mouth over his.
Our tongues have barely tangled when Jacob enters my dorm, his swagger more felt than witnessed. "Get a room."
My lips curve against Noah’s mouth before my eyes pop open. A giggle rumbles in my chest when I spot Noah giving Jacob the finger. For two friends who are as thick as thieves, they get an immense amount of pleasure teasing one another.
“These are the last two boxes, Em.” Jacob dumps them on my bed, either oblivious to Noah’s taunt or not caring.
When Noah stands, taking me with him, my dorm shrinks in size. With the three of us standing shoulder to shoulder, it’s even smaller than initially perceived. It’s a rabbit warren.
I can’t believe this is it. My entire life packed up into a handful of moving boxes. Excluding books and clothes, I don’t have many personal belongings. A majority of my savings went toward my 2001 VW Beetle. It's light pink and my second most valued possession. Can you guess who has the number one spot? It’s the same man who refuses to drive my car because it's the most un-masculine vehicle he’s ever seen.
Even getting Noah into the passenger seat is an effort. I don’t know whether he’s afraid it will ruin his bad-boy reputation, or if his six-foot-two frame makes it hard for him to fit. With Noah and Jacob finishing the rebuild of Noah’s truck two months ago, Noah insists we take it whenever we go on a date. I never argue with him. I’m not insane. The large bed in the back means we have plenty of room for our heavy make-out sessions.
“How was your meeting, Noah?”
Jacob’s question reminds me that I never got an answer from Noah earlier. Well, I did. It was just more a moan than an actual response.
A huge smile carves on Noah’s mouth. “Good, real good.”
He bounces on his feet, his excitement brewing. Rise Up had a meeting this afternoon with Isaac’s music executive friend, Cormack McGregor. After watching Rise Up perform a few weeks ago at Mavs, Cormack spoke to Noah after the show. He told Noah he works for Destiny Records and was scouting for new talent. He enjoyed the two original songs they played that night and was interested in discovering how many more songs they had developed. Noah gave him one of their CDs free of charge. Two weeks later, Cormack arranged for Rise Up to meet with other executives of the label. That meeting was today.
“They enjoyed the sound we created and want to experience it live. They’re coming to watch our gig this Friday.”
I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tight. “They’ll love you guys!”
I can’t contain my excitement. This is precisely what the guys have been aiming for. Once the executives see them perform live, they’ll sign them to their label. They’re morons if they don’t.
“That’s great news, Noah.” Jacob slaps him on the shoulder. His smile is as large as mine, his joy just as notable. “This is what you’ve been working toward your whole life.”
He takes his praise one step further by wrapping Noah up in a man hug. A grin curls my lips when Noah returns his embrace with a pat on his shoulder before stepping back. Noah isn't a hugging type of guy, and Jacob is aware of that. That’s why he stays holding on tight, refusing to acknowledge the annoyance flaming Noah’s cheeks.
Regrettably, Noah is just as aware of Jacob’s dislikes. “Alright there, big guy, don’t start crying.”
Jacob pushes Noah away from him with a grunt. “Whatever.”
Before I realize he’s dropping one of Noah’s neuroses for another, he bands his arms around my torso. I've noticed the last few months that Jacob loves using me to rile Noah up. Every time he says a lewd comment or hugs me inappropriately, Noah takes his bait, hook, line, and sinker.
When Jacob spins me around, the dizziness I felt earlier returns full pelt. “Emily loves my big hugs. Don’t you, Em?”
My pupils turn massive when he glides me down his body after four full twirls. His size has people fooled into believing he's cushiony under his long shirt and trousers. He isn't. Layers of clothes hide his impressive muscles.
“Get off her, Jacob!”
Noah drags me away from Jacob, giving him the exact reaction he was aiming for. His laughter bounces off the paint-peeling walls, his swagger cocky. I hate that he uses me as bait, but I love that even after months of dating, Noah still gets jealous.
“Bye, Emily.” As he walks to my door, Jacob daintily waves.
Noah saunters to the same door, his rock star swagger in full effect. “Fuck off!”
When he slams the door in Jacob’s face, strangers may mistake his actions for anger, but the shit-eating grin stretched across his face reveals otherwise. He’s loving their tit for tat routine as much as Jacob.
My smile fizzles to a sultry smirk when Noah pivots to face me. Is it wrong of me to say I love when he’s riled up with jealousy? Any time his feathers get ruffled, his efforts to ensure I’m thoroughly satisfied ramp up to never-before-reached levels.
Remind me to thank Jacob the next time I see him, because if the hankering look in Noah’s eyes is anything to go by, I’m about to have an extremely adventurous afternoon.
Chapter 18
Emily
My first week of college was a complete mess. I spent the majority of my week aimlessly lost. I barely made it to class on time and haven’t eaten a decent meal in days. If Crystal didn’t have the same English Lit class as me, I wouldn’t have made one class on time. Let’s hope things don’t continue on this path. If they do, I’d rather spend my next four years with my head in the sand.
I’ve only been in college for a week, and I’m already seriously considering calling it quits. My gloomy mood probably has more to do with my crappy phone reception than being a freshman. Its signal is barely existent, meaning I’ve missed numerous text and calls from Noah the past week.
Noah calls me every night, so when Monday came and went without contact, I was devastated. It was only while walking to class Tuesday morning did I discover my phone has no reception in my room. I had twelve unread text messages and even more voicemails.
Although grateful he hadn’t cut contact, I had no clue how much our lives had become enmeshed the past six months. I took advantage of him always being there when I needed him. I was so desperate to hear his voice Wednesday night, I lay in bed, listening to Rise Up’s CD on repeat. Crystal thought it was romantic. I was on the other side of the fence. I felt pathetic.
I’m extremely homesick, and it will only get worse when Crystal gets her new roommate. Crystal is from Oklahoma, and she and her best friend Trish picked Parkwood State so they could be roomed together. Unfortunately, a mix up with their applications had them bunked in different dorms. They submitted requests for a room change but have not yet heard if it’s been approved.
I offered to swap rooms with Trish, but since she’s in an apartment dormitory, I had to withdraw my offer. Offsite apartments don’t come with a dining plan. Since I can’t afford my own meals, I have to stay put. With Trish’s
roommate, Rochelle, refusing to downgrade to the dormitory-style room, Crystal and Trish are stuck living in separate locations. I’m sure it won’t be long until their request is granted, just like I’m sure it won’t take too long for me to settle in.
Although my week hasn’t gone as planned, I woke up this morning incredibly ecstatic. Today is Friday, which means I get to spend the next two days with Noah—and my classes are dragging even more than usual. I'm enjoying the lessons I signed up for, but the number of times I’ve checked my watch makes it seem as if time is standing still.
When the clock finally strikes three, I gather my textbooks and bolt out of my ancient history class. I sprint down the stairs of my building, eager to get my weekend started. I don’t expect Noah for another two hours, so you can imagine my surprise when my gallop down the stairs has me stumbling upon him. He’s leaning against his truck, his smile picking up when he notices my frozen gawk.
When he pushes off his feet to head my way, I drop my textbooks with a squeal before dashing for him. He grins when I leap into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much!” I cover his face with feather-like kisses before leaning in to suck in his delicious scent. “You smell just like I remember.”
He laughs, loving my eagerness. I wasn’t joking. I’ve missed his scent so much, I’m going to steal a handful of his shirts, then I can wear them when I’m lonely. Just being surrounded by his scrumptious scent will soothe my agitation.
Still smiling, Noah jibes, “You do realize it’s only been a few days, don’t you?”
Although he’s teasing me, his kiss reveals our week apart has been as torturous for him as it’s been for me. He kisses me in front of my peers until the sadness haunting me the past week fades. He doesn’t care that I’m being dramatic. He’s too happy seeing me again to let a little bit of teen drama dampen his mood.