I feel small against his size, his strength, and when he escalates I dig my fingers into his neck.
My mind runs a million miles at once, taking everything in while trying to focus on the moment. He smells so good. Feels so good. His hands shift to my waist, holding on to me like a lifeline. His lips are soft, which surprises me, but his mouth is eager, which doesn’t. There’s always been a low boil of passion and determination under his skin. It’s what drives him.
This is the first time it’s been directed at me.
We kiss like we both know it may not just be the first, but the last, breathing heavy, hearts pounding, mouths—
“Norah!”
We jump apart.
“Norah! Where are you?”
I swallow and look at the boy across from me. My best friend.
“Here!” I call out to Delaney, my voice catching in my throat. Gabe stands with his back pressed against the rock. “Coming!”
I stumble out of the darkness, following the light of the bonfire and my friend’s voice. I don’t know what just happened behind those rocks, but I do know, that no matter how hard I’d hoped for nothing to change, everything just had.
10
Gabe
My back, sticky with sweat, leans against the rock as I try to process what just happened. What the heck just happened?
My heart is racing, thundering in my chest. My lips are hot and feel like they could catch fire. I’m left in the dark trying to sort through my emotions, the overwhelming feelings, and the fact my brain is freaking out.
What did I do?
I kissed her. Me. Just lost my mind and went for it. Somehow, I got caught up in the excitement about the deal, the sheer glee on Norah’s face about working together, the way she jumped into my arms and hugged me. There was also this nagging, lingering reaction to Trevor flirting with her that fueled something in me I’d never experienced: jealousy. The raging, green-eyed, monster type.
Trevor, for all his idiocy, wasn’t actually a bad guy. He’s a mega-jock, of course, but he’s not fooling me with the overt flirtation with Norah. He likes her. He always has, and she’s been too naïve to see it. She doesn’t know how pretty she is, how funny and unique. She’s strong and independent. Guys—well, some guys, are really into that. Trevor obviously being one of them.
But there’s a difference in him this year—like he knows it’s the final chance he’s got to make a move. I can sense it on him. Why? Because I have the same ticking clock. And everything with the graphic novel is only making it speed by faster.
Change is coming.
I run both hands through my hair. How much did I just screw this up? Our friendship? Our partnership? Everything?
For what? A kiss that will never go anywhere? And even though she kissed me back (she did, right?), that was probably nothing more than an involuntary reaction.
When my heartrate settles and the sweat turns to a chill, I leave my hiding spot, knowing that I’ve got to fix this. Immediately, because even though I wanted to do it, I’ve long wanted to do it, it was a mistake. A major one, and now I’ve got to go salvage what I can.
I head back over to the bonfire, the party bigger than before. Couples are pairing off, including Tyler and Jacob. I search the crowd and find Delaney animatedly talking to a group of drama kids. Trevor is standing with the other guys from the wrestling team but his focus is up on top of one of the rocks. I lift my eyes and spot her.
I pull out my phone.
G: Hey
I watch as she opens her phone and reads the message.
N: Hi
G: Can we talk?
N: Can you keep your lips to yourself?
My face heats but I smile. Humor is good. It’s how she processes.
G: I can. Promise.
N: Good, because I don’t want to file sexual harassment charges before the job even starts.
G: meet me by the path?
N: K
I watch her hop off the rock and head up the path. I follow her up there, knowing the next conversation we have will be the most important one of my life. I just really hope I don’t blow it.
11
Norah
Gabe looks different when he walks up the path into the streetlight. His eyes dark, his mouth grim. His cap is missing and his too-shaggy hair is a mop of curls on his head. He’s not the same person that I’d been with just a few short minutes before. The excitement about the project. The heat of his mouth against mine—a simmering boil I didn’t know could be channeled in such an overwhelming, all-consuming way.
We don’t speak when we meet up, we just start walking, starting the twenty-minute journey back to our neighborhood. There’s more tension between us as we walk down the street than there was when he tried to kill off my favorite character in his book. That had been an ugly day.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
“That was dumb. Right? Like, super dumb.” That’s the level of my intellect right now.
“Yeah.”
His tone isn’t convincing, which makes this hard, because what did that mean?
Apparently, he knows. “So, I think that I just got caught up in the moment of everything, you know? The project with Reese, you working with me.” He smiles warmly. “Everything’s just coming together and…” he shrugs, “I crossed a line.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, “although let’s get this straight right now. You didn’t do anything. Sure, you started it, but I participated. You know I’m not the kind of person that can’t own my part in things. My enthusiasm may have contributed to how things escalated.”
He laughs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “It may have. I just don’t want this to change anything between us.”
“It won’t.” I hold out my pinky the way we’ve done since we were kids. “Swear on it.”
He looks at my pinky with slight hesitation but he does it, linking his finger with mine. The touch is soft, gentle, and I don’t know if he means to but the way it happens feels like a match striking. A blaze of heat passes through me, which sucks, because that means I didn’t get anything out of my system with that kiss.
“I swear,” he says, squeezing tight. I’m surprised when he doesn’t let go.
“I mean, it’s probably stranger that we didn’t do that a long time ago, you know? Everyone always asks if we’re together or if we ever hooked up,” I say, very aware of our still-linked fingers. My heart his hammering hard in my chest. I swallow thickly. “So now we know.”
“True,” he says, walking down the block. “We can definitely check that one off the list.”
It must be the fact we’re almost holding hands. Or the fact I can still feel the tingle from the kiss on my lips. Or the fact he smells so good and all of this is so weird, that the following falls out of my mouth, “At least I can say I’ve had my first kiss, right? Although it’s unfortunate you had to bear the brunt of that.” He looks over at me, jaw tight. It’s not like he didn’t know, but it’s still depressing to admit out loud. Seventeen and never been kissed? Even Gabe amped up his experience in the last year while I just…didn’t. “I guess I’m glad it wasn’t with some tool like Trevor Salvatore, who's kissed a million girls, and my lack of experience would have been horrifically embarrassing.”
The only sound is our feet on the sidewalk until he says, “It wasn’t unfortunate.”
“No?”
“No. You’ve got nothing to worry about, Nor. Even Trevor would have been impressed.”
Is he saying I’m a good kisser? Why do we keep talking about Trevor?
“About Trevor,” he says, echoing my thoughts.
“We don’t need to talk about Trevor. If he doesn’t watch out, I’m going to have to report him to Linda in HR.”
He shakes his head at my stupid joke. “Like Tyler said, I think he likes you. For real.”
“Stop, dude. I’ve had enough humiliation for one night.”
“I’m just saying. I think he does and I don’t thi
nk he’s the worst. I mean, maybe his methods need some improvement when it comes to a girl like you.”
“A girl like me?” I’m wondering how offended I should be.
He continues, “Smart, pretty, independent. You’re not like the other girls he’s dated.” We stop a few houses away from mine, the place where we normally split apart. “You’re not like most girls, Norah, I think he’s figured that out.”
He’s telling me to give another guy a shot. A handsome, athletic, polar-opposite to Gabe kind of guy. It’s the let-down of all let-downs, because if he was even slightly interested, there’s no way he’d bolster another guy. No way.
Except there’s the way he’s looking at me. And the way my stomach feels like it’s been infested by butterflies. I keep thinking this moment will end, but his hand reaches up, grazing my cheek. “Remember how I said I crossed a line?”
“Yeah.”
“I really want to cross it again.”
This time I don’t wait for him to make the first move, I do it for him, pushing up on my toes. I brush my lips against his, knowing I may never get this chance again, knowing I’m throwing myself out there. I’m willing to take this chance—with him. Gabe bends, hands cupping my face, lips hot, movements sure.
In the middle of the street, where our roads intersect, we cross the line together, moving from friends to something else. Something undefinable. Something I really, really hope we don’t regret.
12
Gabe
I worried things would be different the next day. That I’d have regrets or more, that Norah would have them. Even with that hanging over me I’m happy when I wake up, obviously so, and Mom gives me weird looks over the breakfast table.
“How was the bonfire?” she asks, walking over to the coffeemaker to refill her cup.
“It was fun,” I say, trying to force the smile off my face. I shove a forkful of eggs into my mouth for distraction.
“Did Norah have a good time? I know that’s not really her thing.”
“She was hesitant at first,” I admit, recalling the very first kiss, “but she came around. By the time we left, she was all-in.”
Sidney listens to this exchange, watching me carefully. I pop a piece of bacon in my mouth and give him a grin. Even that kid can’t spoil my buzz today.
“So, listen,” Mom says, coming back to the table, “I thought maybe today we could go over your schedule for the next few weeks. Get that ACT registration together, start some of the school applications.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Sorry Mom, I’ve got the deadline coming up on issue three. I really need to work on it today.”
She sighs. “I really wish you hadn’t made a deadline for the middle of fall semester.”
I take a sip of orange juice. “I didn’t make that deadline, Mom. The publisher did.”
“Well, we still need to get this stuff done. Maybe after you get in a few hours of work?”
“Then I have homework.” I stand, taking my plate to the sink. “I’m headed over to work at the shop. You know I’m my most productive there.”
She opens her mouth to say more but snaps it shut. The truth is, I’m handling my life and all my obligations. She just can’t fit in the ones she wants as well. “Fine. But tonight, we’re doing that schedule, got it?”
“Got it.”
I’m walking out of the room when I hear her say to Sidney, “Anything you need help with today?”
My poor kid brother. Once I’m out of the house, all of my mom’s focus will be on him. He’s going to hate it.
I grab my bag and head out to the front, grabbing my skateboard. I know I should call Norah. Or text at the very least, but I don’t want to give her the chance to freak out. My plan is to act like everything is normal. Totally the same.
Except for one thing.
I’m definitely going to kiss her again.
13
Norah
Sundays are busy at the shop. Normally, that’s a good thing. It makes the time go by faster. Typically customers come and go, shopping, browsing, lingering, while Gabe sits in his usual spot on the couch. If there’s a lull, I go sit with him while he takes a break, or he’ll head next door to buy us drinks or a slice to share (pizza part for him, crust for me) but today, things are different. Everything is different.
First of all, I admit it. I dressed a little nicer today. Which is ridiculous. Gabe has seen me at my best and worst. There’s no reason to do anything different. The problem is, I feel different and I like it.
The funny thing is that when he rolled up on his skateboard, the wheels sounding like a zipper against the pavement, he looked a little bit like he may have made an effort, too. I noticed the way his T-shirt hugs his shoulders and chest and the way his jeans sat low on his hips. I smelled the waft of detergent and soap when he hopped off the board.
“Hey,” he’d said.
“Hi.”
“We good?”
I nodded, a million different reasons why I shouldn’t be good running through my brain. Our friendship. Our partnership. Our parents. Ben.
“Yeah,” I’d replied, ignoring the warning bells. “We’re good.”
I spent the afternoon doing my thing, helping customers, ringing up sales, searching for hard-to-find comics, but I also do the different stuff; sharing glances with Gabe, catching him looking at me, thinking about the way his mouth felt against mine.
“Norah?”
“Huh?” I say, snapping out of my thoughts. My boss Wade looks at me expectantly.
“I said, do you want to go back to the storage room and unpack those new Pokémon sets?”
“Oh sure. I can totally do that.”
We swap spots and I leave the counter, walking around the bookshelves and passing Gabe. He’s focused on his sketchbook but his eyes flick upward when I walk by. A small, twisted smile sets on his lips.
“We got a new Pokémon shipment,” I say, wondering if my voice sounds as weird as it feels. I mean, I’m just talking. Why is that weird?
But I know why, because we share a lingering look and my heart thunders like a beating drum, it’s only a few moments after I’ve stepped into the messy storage room that Gabe appears in the doorway.
“You need any help?” he asks. For the record, Gabe may be a good friend, but he’s not typically willing to help me with menial tasks around the shop. This is different.
“Nah, I think I’ve got it.”
But he stands there anyway, watching me sort through the packages. And the conversation that used to flow so freely seems stilted, forgotten. It’s probably because I can’t think due to the rush of blood pounding in my ears or the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Or maybe because I can’t stop thinking about the way he smells or how I track his every move and when I drop a stack of cards, he moves quickly, bending to help.
Our fingers brush and fireworks burst over my skin.
His gaze jumps from my eyes to my lips and I stand, him following me, stacks of cards in my hands. Everything is heightened. Everything. And when he takes the cards from me, taking what fits in both of my hands into one of his and my back lands against the bookshelf, that thread of common sense, of self-control, vanishes, and all I want him to do is to kiss me again.
My body shudders when he finally does.
In the space of a heartbeat, we’re fully consumed. It’s as good as it was the night before. Maybe better, because he moves away from my mouth, kissing along my jawline, down my neck.
Have mercy.
My fingers wind in his shirt, pulling him closer. Everything about this feels right, to the point I wonder why we’d waited so long.
Our phones vibrate at the same time. Mine on the shelf behind me. His in his pocket. Gabe sighs and gives me a soft kiss, reaching for his phone. I also check mine.
That question? About wondering why we’d waited so long?
One of the answers appears in the form of a text.
Ben: What’s up? Want to hang out?
/> Before I can speak, a second comes through.
Mom: Will you be home for dinner?
I hold it up for Gabe to see. He runs his hand through his hair, his jaw tight.
My back is still pressed against the shelves when I say, “We may need to figure some things out.”
14
Gabe
With Ben looking for us and my mother breathing down my neck, we agree to meet later to talk about our relationship.
I call Ben.
“Hey, I’m about to leave Bazinga! Want to meet me at Davie's?”
“Sure,” he replies. “Is Norah coming?”
“She’s got another hour of work and her mom wants her home for dinner.”
My mom wants me home, too, but I’m doing everything I can to avoid it. Ben always wants to eat, so Davie’s is a perfect compromise.
Forty-five minutes later we’re in a booth, a burger in front of each of us and Ben’s halfway through a milkshake.
“How was the bonfire?” he asks, wiping chocolate ice cream off his mouth.
“Good, you should have come.”
That’s a bold-faced lie. If he’d come, that kiss never would have happened.
“Eh,” he says. Ben’s insecurities are legendary. He’s got a lot of anxiety and for the most part we handle it—just giving him the space he needs—but sometimes it can be a pain. “I was crushing it in KillerQuest.”
“I’m sure.”
“Was Delaney there?”
“Yeah.” I eat four fries at once. “Why?”
He brushes his fine blond hair out of his eyes. “I don’t know.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you interested in her?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t think she likes me.”
“Delaney’s cool. You should ask her out.” He takes a huge bite of his hamburger. “You could ask her to the fall festival.”
Norah and The Nerd: Best Friends Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 4) Page 5
