She was able to say goodbye to him.
Her words trigger something, and even though I know it’s irrational and incomparable to her actually losing her dad, all I can think about is that I never got to say goodbye to her.
I was never able to get the closure I wanted, maybe even needed.
She disappeared out of my life like a ghost, taking everything with her except my memories that drove me insane for a long time.
And now she’s here, and we’re having a conversation.
Apologizing. Dancing around our pain. Trying to empathize with the other.
But for what? After we’ve finished the mural, that’s it. Chloe will be gone from my life.
Again.
Fifteen
Chloe
When I come back from my run the next morning, my mind is still a mess.
Noah's confession yesterday, the way he opened up to me like we’re still . . . something. Like he still trusts me and wants to confide in me.
Then the mention of my dad, and the way he cradled me in his arms. So gingerly, like I’m fragile and he doesn’t know how to hold me properly. Definitely not like it used to be. He once knew exactly how to hold me.
But I guess it’s a good step in the friendship direction, right? Talking about meaningful topics, confiding in each other, and offering comfort.
When I’m almost home, I exhale all my conflicted emotions and push the Bluetooth speaker in my ear to disconnect from my phone, then stop short.
What?
Two of my elderly neighbors—who’ve been nothing but welcoming since I moved into the neighborhood last month—are walking on the strip of grass next to the sidewalk.
That’s not the unusual part about this, but rather the fact that they’re both dragging lawn chairs behind them in one hand, and big mason jars with straws in the other.
What on earth are they up to?
And where are they going? They aren't going . . . wait a moment. To my lawn?
Bessie huffs when she stops and leans on the back of her folding chair, gasping for breath. "Oh hey, Chloe. There you are. I knocked a few minutes ago to check if you were home, but no one answered. It's okay if Agnes and I relax on your front lawn for a little while, right? You have the best view, and we'll be gone as soon as the show is over, I promise."
Agnes is just a few feet behind her, taking a sip from her mason jar. The orange-red liquid reminds me of . . . Wait a second, is that a cocktail?
When she stops next to Bessie, she grins at me. “Hey, sweetie. Are you going to watch with us? It’s our favorite show in the whole neighborhood.”
“What show are you guys—”
“Oooooh. I think I saw movement.” Agnes whistles, frantically trying to open her chair while Bessie is scrambling to do the same.
I, on the other hand, stand there like a total idiot, no clue what the hell is going on. Both ladies have plopped in their chairs, their straws to their mouths, as they quietly whisper to each other between sips.
Since they’re both staring straight across the street, I look too. Something glorious must have caught their attention after all. Whatever mysterious show they were talking about.
The yard gate at the side of the house opens, and someone pushes a lawn mower through the opening.
“Here we go.” Bessie does a little shimmy with her shoulders, and they both giggle.
The man pushing the lawn mower has a cap pulled low over his face, making it impossible to get a better look.
When he rounds the corner to align the lawn mower with the edge of the sidewalk, he looks straight at us. His eyes go wide for a moment before he waves. Not sure if he’s waving at the two ladies or me.
What. The. Ever-loving. Hell?
“Is that . . . Is that Noah?” His name pops out of my mouth, and I’m too stunned to fully wrap my head around this scene in front of me.
Why is Noah mowing the lawn across the street?
"Look at those calves."
"And those biceps. They look extra muscly today."
Loud slurping noises accompany Agnes and Bessie's chatter, which I'm only listening to halfway.
My feet move on their own accord, compulsion carrying me across the street. There's no other explanation for it.
And goodness, the ladies were right. I don't know where to look first. In his sleeveless shirt and shorts combination, there's so much to explore for my eyes.
The strong muscles under the stretched skin, the veins standing out loud and proud.
I want to lick him all over. From top to bottom, and back up.
Noah clears his throat when I'm only a couple feet away and staring at him like a crazy person.
When did he turn off the lawnmower?
He turns the hat around on his head, and my knees go weak. Is he doing this on purpose? He knows I have a thing for that. I mean, wearing a baseball hat backwards raises the hotness levels by like five hundred billion points.
"Hey." He looks over my shoulder and waves. "Good morning, ladies."
A unified "Good morning, Noah," echoes across the street.
"What are you doing here?" My gaze strays to the house behind him. The same house I've seen several times before without paying too much attention to it. The same house I’ve never seen anyone going in or out of.
He rubs his jaw, and my gaze follows his hand, zeroing in on his five-o’clock shadow. Gosh, it looks so good on him. Back in high school, we didn’t have a lot of guys come to school without shaving. Swimming is another reason to shave. There's absolutely no denying that the scruff shoots him up on the sexiness scale like nothing else.
Backwards hat plus scruff. I'm ready to melt into a puddle about now.
The scruff also makes him ridiculously manly, which is something I’m still not entirely used to.
This Noah, with the facial hair, with all the new muscles that are also more substantial than before, and then those dang fine lines in his skin. Veins. The matured face. It’s hard not to stare at him, which is exactly what I’m doing right now. Again.
He bites the inside of his cheek. “Well, we’re kind of neighbors.”
“Kind of . . . neighbors?”
“No, I meant we are neighbors. Definitely are. I live here”—he points behind himself before pointing across the street at my house—“and you live there.”
“How is that possible?” I gather my ponytail from my neck and scoop it to one side to play with the ends. “I mean, of course I know how it’s possible that we live on the same street. But . . . wow. I had no idea.”
He stays quiet and looks away from me.
I narrow my eyes at him. “And you didn’t think I should know about this? Why didn’t you say anything?”
And then, I shove his shoulder.
Hard.
Well, that gets his attention.
Mine too, because why on earth did I just do that?
We’ve actually had several moments in the last few weeks where I caught myself thinking about doing it, but I never acted on it.
Before now, I guess, even though I shouldn’t be too surprised.
These weird moments keep happening where this old familiarity seeps into my pores, and I'm thrown back into us. Into the previous version of us that is slowly mixing with the here and now. It makes me not think about what I do or say and things just happen. Almost like I’m using muscle memory from past Chloe and Noah to navigate present Chloe and Noah.
The question is, is that a good or a bad thing?
Pulling my hand back, I interlace my fingers in front of my body to keep them from touching him again. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” He crosses his arms over his chest, accentuating those fine muscles, and I pinch my lips together.
Will this attraction to him be a problem? Because holy hell, he's still doing it for me.
If the sudden excited chatter behind us is anything to go by, my senior friends approve very much of Noah. Or maybe they'd like their piece. Who knows with these lad
ies?
"I was going to tell you. That we’re neighbors, I mean." His gaze roams over my face, one corner of his mouth twitching. "Eventually."
"Eventually, huh?"
"When I found out, I didn't particularly like you."
Copying his stance, I also fold my arms over my chest. I can be like this too. Staring him down like it's no one's business. Well, I’m still staring up at him, but who cares about specifics?
His chin lifts in a small nod. "So, wanna carpool to your mom’s later, neighbor?"
I narrow my eyes at him. "Fine."
Then, I spin around as quickly as I can before he can see the corners of my mouth lift.
When I walk past gaping Agnes and Bessie, I wink at them. "Enjoy the show, ladies."
They mutter something I can't make out as I disappear into my house. I have to shower and a lunch carpool to get ready for.
“Thanks so much for lunch, Mom. It was delicious, as always.” I give my mom a hug before stepping back.
“Yes, Mrs. Williams. Thanks so much for the invitation. It was as good as ever.”
My mom waves both of us off as she opens the door. “Thank you, guys, for spending some time with me.”
Even though she smiles, her words still tighten my chest. I know she’s “doing okay” as she always likes to tell me, but sometimes I wonder if she lies, or rather, how much she lies.
I know from my own experience how often we tell others we’re okay even when we’re not. My mom isn’t any different.
Losing my dad was tough for both of us, even though like I told Noah at the hospital, we knew it was coming. That allowed us to prepare ourselves mentally, at least somewhat. Yet it also meant that our grieving process started a lot earlier than normal.
Grieving someone while they’re still alive is a distinct and bizarre mind process that screwed with my brain more than once.
How are you supposed to let go of someone when they’re right in front of you? When it’s impossible to erase them from your memory—or at least suppress them until you feel like you can breathe again? When your mind’s hard drive wants to pull up all of their memories, constantly, at the most inconvenient times, therefore dissolving you into a living crying machine.
I reach out and squeeze her. “Bye, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, honey. And thanks for coming today, Noah. It was wonderful to see you.”
“The pleasure was all mine.”
They share a smile, like so many times during our visit.
Lunch was good. Eerily normal.
The conversation flowed easily, mostly, while Mom was getting the CliffsNotes on Noah’s last decade. The three Olympic Games he’s attended, what medals he won, how his sister and parents are doing. All totally ordinary details, although I was sad to hear about Daisy’s divorce.
I ate up every single word. Storing it in the back of my mind like it was the most important information, and I’m not going to think about the reason behind it.
“Back home for you?” Noah’s shoulder lightly brushes mine as we walk down the narrow walkway to his car.
When we get there, I shrug. “Yeah. I don’t really have anything planned for the rest of the day.”
His hand plays with the car keys as he looks at me. His head cocked, his eyes slightly narrowed as his gaze roams over my face.
Does he like what he sees?
No, don’t think about that.
We’re barely friends.
I chuckle. “What are you thinking about so hard?”
“If I should go to the movies or not.”
“Sunday movies, huh?”
He bites his lip and nods. “Yeah. Just like we—”
Just like we . . . used to do. Crap.
And why the hell does he need to bite his lip? Screw him and being so damn attractive.
My body loves him, heating up in all the right places, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. Of course, he’s hot, but it’s the history we share that burns the brightest.
And I can’t deny that he makes me happy. Being in his presence fills me with a peace I haven’t felt in a very long time, and it’s addictive.
The more I’m around him, the more I crave his presence.
Does it make me selfish that I long for this blissful feeling? That I actively seek it out even when I know I shouldn’t?
But then, who doesn’t want to go after things that make them happy?
Is there even a right way for me in this? A smart way that will keep my heart in one piece?
Noah pushes the button on the remote before taking a step closer.
There’s only a foot separating us, and the air between us vanishes like it was sucked out by some magical force. His breath hits my face as he leans in even closer, the sweetness of the cheesecake he had for dessert making my mouth water.
The anticipation—the agony—is too much, and I close my eyes.
When the car door opens behind me with a click, and I open my eyes again, Noah stands next to the door, holding it open for me.
His gaze scans my face before settling on my eyes. “Want to come with me?”
I swallow the disappointment of staying un-kissed and force an enthusiastic smile instead. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He smiles . . . slowly . . . and good God. Be still, my heart.
“Uh, what are we watching?”
“Does it matter?” he whispers.
Not in any way. Noah Winters asked me to go to the movies with him, and that’s the only thing that matters.
“No,” I whisper back. I slip, albeit dreamily, into the passenger seat and watch Noah as he closes my door and walks around the hood to the driver’s door.
Is this a smart idea? To spend more time with him?
Especially when I’m starving for more?
The thumping heart in my chest seems to think so.
Sixteen
Noah
The parking lot of the movie theater is almost deserted, as usual.
It’s nothing fancy. Just one of those small ones that plays old movies.
I put the car in park and kill the ignition.
Chloe gasps next to me. “I can’t believe this place is still standing.”
“Yeah. It’s definitely seen better days, but they’ve been doing a good job keeping up with it on the inside.”
“Wow.”
I get out and Chloe joins me at the front of the car. “Ready?”
She nods, an eager expression on her face. “Yes, I’m excited. It’s been so long since we’ve been here.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. It’s not like I forgot. I couldn’t come here for a while after she left because I couldn’t stomach the memories of this place. I was such a fool. And so fucking in love.
And look where that got me.
We walk inside, and I raise my hand at one of the employees. He’s tall and skinny, wearing a burgundy suit.
“No way.” Chloe grasps my arm as we get closer, although I’m sure she’s unaware of her grip on me. “Is that—”
The man comes out from behind his ticket counter, quietly whistling under his breath as he takes us in. Together. “Miss . . . Chloe? Is that you? What a sight for my old eyes.”
That man has a memory like I’ve never known before. I might have also told him that she’s back when I came here a few weeks ago.
“Ernie.” Chloe blushes. “Still as charming as ever, I see. Thank you. How are you?”
He shrugs and shoots me a look. “Same old here.”
Chloe clasps her hands together and leans a little closer to him. “Well, you look great.”
Ernie smiles, the dark skin around his eyes breaking into lines. “That’s what I always tell Mr. Noah. I’m so much better looking than his lonely self.”
Chloe laughs, and I shake my head. That man is as unique as this theater, and he’s been a constant in my life once I started coming back here. I always stop to chat with him for a while before and after a show.
/> And now, he’s telling Chloe I’m lonely? Good to know where his loyalty lies.
Even though he’s not wrong. Lately, I’ve been here more than usual. Wanting to get out of the quiet house.
Sundays used to be our guy day where we often hung out, played poker, or watched a movie. A relaxed day after a gruesome week at the pool and the gym.
Then Jace and Ryan found their other halves and welcomed kids into the world, and Hunter’s been busy with new endorsement deals. As a result, I haven’t seen as much of them as I used to.
And my sister and my nephews don’t always have time to hang out with me either. Since Daisy told me she wants me to find someone, I sometimes wonder if she pushes me away on purpose, thinking that would get me “out there” as she likes to call it.
As if that someone would just be waiting around the corner for me.
I don’t think going to the movie theater by myself is what she had in mind though.
“What are you kids watching today? We got Transformers and Across The Universe.” Ernie walks back behind his desk to click on the outdated computer.
Chloe and I lock gazes. What are the chances they play two movies today that we binge-watched when we were younger? Maybe Transformers a bit more than Across The Universe, but they were both great movies.
“Ladies choice.” I tilt my chin at Chloe, waiting.
“Transformers? I haven’t seen that one in forever,” she blurts out, not wasting a moment to think about it while grinning at me. “Is that okay?”
I can’t help but smile back at her infectious enthusiasm. “Sure.”
Grabbing my wallet from my pocket, I turn to Ernie. “You heard the lady. Two tickets for Transformers, please.”
“Already done.”
“Thank you.”
I pay and we catch up with Ernie for a moment on how his wife is doing since she broke her hip. When we head to the concession stand, I look back at him, and he gives me an encouraging smile along with a thumbs-up. I shake my head at him and fall back in step with Chloe.
She looks at the board and puts her hand on her stomach. “I’m still pretty full from lunch.”
Second Dive: A Second Chance Sports Romance (Kings Of The Water Book 3) Page 10
