“Speaking of Noah, let’s talk about the fact that you didn’t keep your mouth shut like I asked you to.”
“Oh,” she sighs, “that.”
“Yes. That.”
“I was drunk,” she says, holding one hand up, knowing that I’m not going to accept that as an excuse. “Ben and Noah were asking me loads of questions about you, and Owen was being all cute and I just blurted it all out. I’m so used to being able to do it, that I didn’t realise I’d done it until I saw all of their shocked faces.”
Why was Noah asking questions?
“I’m sorry,” she continues, “I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t know that Noah was a freak at that point.”
“He’s not a freak,” I say quickly. “He’s just a little shocked, I guess.”
She raises an eyebrow at me. “About what?”
“About seeing me again.”
“Why would he be shocked?” she asks, frowning at me.
I shove the banana into my mouth and take a huge bite, chewing as Ruby watches me. When I’m done, I swallow it and then drink some more water. “We both promised each other we’d never come back here,” I finally tell her.
“To York?”
I nod.
“But why?”
I huff and start to do my stretches. “To make sure we’d never see each other again.”
She shakes her head and glances at the clock that’s hanging on the wall behind my head. “I would love to carry on and chat, but I have to get ready for work. I didn’t get much sleep last night so I need at least two coffees and a very cold shower.”
I move out of the way so she can go get ready. “Catch you later.”
“Yeah,” she calls.
“Oh!” I shout through the apartment. “What’s happening with you and Owen now?”
She spins back around and grins at me. Uh-oh. Ruby is grinning. This can’t be good.
“We’re going on a first date tonight.” She flicks her hair and blows me a kiss through the air.
“Aren’t you supposed to do that first?” I call back.
“Says you?”
She has a point—again.
Just as I push open the door to exit our building, I hear my name being called. Oh, no, I think. I’m not doing this again. I’m running and I’m doing it to clear my mind, which means he’s not going to stop me. I step out into the freezing cold air, turn on my flashing armband so the cars can see me in the dark and push my earphones into my ears. I take a deep breath, switch my audio app on and start to run.
After only a couple of miles, my lungs are burning. My legs feel like jelly and I’m sweating so much that it’s pouring down my face and into my eyes. I’m blind, wobbly, wheezing and huffing like a large hippopotamus. I thought I’d just be able to run again and that all those years of training would stick with me. I just assumed my muscles would remember how to work and that my lungs and heart would follow suit.
I was wrong.
I stop running and double over, resting my hands on my knees and hanging my head down low. Shit the bed, this hurts. I now have sympathy for all those people that came to try-outs and collapsed at the finish line. After a few minutes, I feel like I can breathe well enough to stand up straight. The stitch in my side is still stinging, but I can take deep breaths now without my diaphragm feeling like it’s pushing out of my skin. I start to pace up and down on the pavement, my hot breath misting out right in front of me, and start to wonder how I’m going to get all the way back home because I certainly can’t run.
“Ariel,” a voice snaps right next to me.
I jump and pull my earphones out of my ears. “Don’t creep up on women in the dark,” I scold in between my pants.
“Are you struggling there?” Noah asks, and I swear it sounds like he’s laughing.
“You’re supposed to be practising what you preach,” I remind him, wishing he’d just bugger off and leave me to my dying swan act.
“You look like you’re going to puke,” he says. “Are you going to puke?”
I lean over and rest against the wall of the nearest building. “Go away.”
“Why are you acting like a whore?”
Where did that come from? I stop panting as his words filter into my head. “I’ve just been for a run. How is that acting like a whore?”
“Don’t be coy, Ariel,” he snaps. “You know what I mean.”
I huff out a big breath and stand up to my full height, turning to face him. “My sex life stopped being your concern nearly seven years ago, Noah. I don’t have to tell you anything about what I do or why I do it.”
Noah folds his arms across his chest and I notice the muscles in his arms that are even bigger than they were before. Someone’s been working out. He leans against the wall I was just leaning on and sighs. “Ruby told me what you do,” he says slowly.
I look at him out of the corner of my eye, all thoughts of carrying on with my run disappearing as I see the hurt on his face. “She shouldn’t have,” I whisper. “It’s none of her business.”
“She’s worried about you.”
“She doesn’t need to be.”
“Ariel,” he says softly, “she told me that you only fuck them once, is this true?”
I laugh uncomfortably and shake my head. “I really don’t see what any of this has got to do with you.”
“I’ve been harsh on you,” he says. “I’m sorry for that, but I think you need help. Did you ever get it?”
I stare up at him and his lovely face that’s illuminated in the light from the streetlamp. He’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my whole life, and though I don’t want to admit it, he still takes my breath away. “I got some,” I tell him.
He coughs, but I think he’s covering up a laugh. “How many men have you slept with, Ariel?” he asks, shuffling on his feet. I can tell by that unconscious movement that he doesn’t really want to hear the answer.
I sigh and finally admit to myself that I’m going to have to have an open conversation with him at some point, so I may as well start now. “I haven’t slept with anyone since you.”
He turns to fully face me. “What? But Ruby says—”
I hold my hand up to stop him. “I’ve only ever slept in the same bed as you. I’ve never fallen asleep next to anyone else and I’ve never woken up next to anyone except you.”
“O-kay,” he says slowly. “So you have sex with them, but that’s it? You won’t do it for a second time and you don’t have relationships with them?”
I nod. “Correct.”
He scoffs. “A psychiatrist would have a field day with this.”
“It’s really none of your business.” I realise, after hearing it said like that to me, that it sounds ridiculous. My life is ridiculous.
“But you had sex with me,” he says. “And you fucked me and you let me do all those things back to you too…more than once.”
I don’t want to be having this conversation with him. Not here. Not now. “Are you done with the questions now?” I ask, crossing my arms that are slowly going numb.
“Why do you fuck them?”
I huff. “I enjoy it. I just don’t want the complications that come after it.”
“And you think if you sleep with them more than once, that you’ll what? That you’ll develop feelings? Is that what you’re really afraid of?”
Trust Noah to get to the point so quickly. It was always like he could see into my soul and he knew exactly what to say to it. “I’m not talking to you about this.”
“Yes. You. Are.”
“No, I’m not,” I hiss. “I’m going to be late for work.”
“You owe me,” he says, grabbing my arm.
I owe him lots of things, especially the truth. But now isn’t the time or the place.
“I don’t understand why you’re like this,” he sighs. “I need to know, Ariel. You’ve let me torture myself for all these years.”
I hate that he’s felt like that all this time. I h
ate that I couldn’t tell him. Does he think I haven’t lost hours and hours of sleep worrying about him and wondering what he was doing? Does he think I’ve done it all on purpose? Does he think I never cared?
I know that what I’m about to say will hurt him, but he’s asked for the truth. He’s getting a portion of it, which is more than anyone else has gotten. “It’s the only way I’ve ever known, Noah. I think you knew that.”
He shuts his eyes and screws them up tight.
Chapter 17
THEN
The Ghost Of Christmas Future
It’s been two hours since I watched Noah walk away from my house. I’m still lying on the rug, completely naked, with the reminder of our encounter streaked all over me. The only difference is that it’s now pitch black outside. I haven’t been up to turn on any lights in the house and I haven’t made a fire, so it’s about as cold and dark as it is outside.
I groan, my muscles screaming in protest as I push myself to standing. I hit the button on my phone, squinting against the bright light it produces, and notice that it’s nearly six. I should probably eat. I can’t actually remember the last time I ate a proper meal or food that could be considered anything more than a snack. I pull my clothes back on and head into the kitchen. I warm up some tinned vegetable soup that I found in the cupboard, but it tastes nowhere near as nice as my Mum’s homemade stuff.
After I’ve showered and washed my hair, I rub my head with a rough towel and run my wide-toothed comb through it. Leaving my hair damp, I pull on a pair of black knickers and a black, tight-fitting t-shirt. I climb into my freezing cold bed and start to shiver. Then I pull the covers over my head and close my eyes.
I’m dreaming. I know I’m dreaming because I’m in New York City and I’ve never been out of Europe before in my life. I’m running on the paths, trying to get away from something. I don’t know what it is, but it’s gaining on me. There are other people running on the paths too, although they’re all running in the opposite direction and they keep bumping into me, slowing me down. I’ll get caught.
“Ariel,” someone says in the distance.
I turn around in the middle of Central Park, looking for the voice.
“Ariel,” I hear, “wake up.”
My eyes flicker open, but it’s complete darkness.
“Ariel,” Noah says, putting his face right next to mine, “you need to get up and get dressed.”
I rub the sleep away from my eyes and sit up, causing the covers to slide right off me. I start to shiver and wrap my arms around myself. “What time is it?”
“Half eleven,” he snaps. “Now get up.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, feeling irritated. “Why have you come back in the middle of the night? Why have I got to get dressed?”
“You’ll see,” he says, switching my lamp on. The sudden light makes my eyes go crazy, so I shut them and cover them with my arms.
“I was sleeping,” I yawn.
“I’m sorry,” he says, opening my wardrobe door. “It’ll be worth it, and then you can sleep all you want.”
“It’s Christmas Eve night, Noah. What the hell is going on?”
He throws some red, shiny tights and a black, belted dress onto the bed. He digs round at the bottom and then throws my knee-high black leather boots across the floor. Without asking me where I keep my underwear, he starts rifling through my second drawer. He throws a black bra and knickers on top of the clothes. “Get dressed,” he orders.
“Are you Santa Claus?” I ask. “Is there a sleigh on my roof with jingle bells and reindeer?”
Noah turns and rolls his eyes at me. “Get up.”
I climb out of bed and notice a fresh cup of tea on my desk. I rush over to it and start gulping it down, relishing the warmth that courses deliciously through me. “Thanks,” I say, wiping my mouth with my hand before walking over to the bed.
“Please get dressed, Ariel.”
“Okay, okay,” I say, holding my hands up. “Are you going to stand there and watch?” I ask.
He smiles at me, making my insides melt. “Yes.”
I want to undress slowly to tease him, but I can sense he’s in a rush. I dress quickly and brush my hair. I take another big sip of tea and head across the hallway to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
“Leave your hair down,” Noah says from the doorway.
I can’t say anything because of the toothpaste foam that’s spouting from my mouth, so I narrow my eyes at him.
“You look pretty with your hair down like that,” he says, smiling at me.
I turn around, hooking my hair out of my face, and spit into the bowl. “Erm, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he sighs. “Now go and get your thick coat on and a hat, scarf and some gloves. It’s starting to snow.”
I love the snow. I used to race outside with the boys when we were younger and build snowmen and snow angels. Caleb and Daniel would spend hours playing in the snow. My mum would literally be standing by the back door, shouting all the symptoms of hypothermia at them until they decided to come in. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
He shakes his head and pulls me back across the landing and down the stairs to the cupboard by the front door. I sit on the bottom step and wait until he finds my stuff. A pair of gloves hit me in my face first and then a scarf, followed by a red bobble hat. I huff but put them on anyway.
He pulls me out of the house and into the freshly fallen snow. It’s only a few centimetres deep, but I can tell from the size of the flakes that it’s not going to stop for a while.
“We need to hurry,” he says, pulling me down the path and onto the lane.
“Why?” I ask, letting him pull me all the way down the street that’s littered with gold, twinkling Christmas lights. “Is it much further?”
“No,” he says, breaking into a run.
I have to speed up to keep up with him, but the faster I go, the more the snow blinds me as it lands on my face. I can feel my hair trailing out behind me like a cape. He starts to slow down as we head up the small hill towards the church that’s glowing like an orange beacon.
“We’re going to church?” I ask, not quite understanding.
“We’re going to midnight mass,” he whispers. “I thought it might be nice.”
I don’t have time to answer as he pulls us inside. The memories of my last time in here come flooding back, and it’s like a kick to the stomach that renders me speechless. The same old woman who’d opened the doors for me at the funeral smiles and offers me a plain, un-lit white candle. I wordlessly take it from her, holding it tightly in my left hand, and pull my hat off.
Noah strides up the aisle, his hand tight in mine, as thousands of candles flicker against the pillars and walls, casting strange, dancing shadow people that follow us to our pew. We slide in just as everyone starts to softly sing “Away In A Manger.” Noah slides his fingers through mine and then pulls my hand up to his mouth, kissing it before putting it back onto my knee. He starts to sing and I can’t help but turn my face away from the Christ Candle that’s sitting in the centre of the Advent wreath to stare at him, listening to the way the deep, husky words float out of his mouth. After a verse, he turns to me and kisses my cheek.
“Merry Christmas, Ariel,” he whispers.
I look up at him and find myself smiling for no other reason than because that’s what I feel like doing. He turns back towards the front and picks up in the middle of the song. I open my mouth and start to sing with him.
After the song, the vicar starts talking. I glance down at our entwined hands and squeeze his harder. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and smiles. I don’t hear what else the vicar says. I’m too busy wondering where he went earlier and why he came back.
The whole congregation stands up and we follow suit. “Silent Night” starts to fill the air around me, causing tiny goose bumps to explode on my skin as the choir belts the song out with all of their might. Of all the Christmas ca
rols, this one is my favourite.
Noah pulls his hand out of mine and turns to his neighbour. He touches his wick against the young woman’s candle and the flame dances to life in front of his face, basking him in a deep orange glow. Noah then turns to me and offers me his candle. I hold it up to his until the wicks merge and watch the tiny flame flicker to life. I have no neighbour, which means I am the last in the church to receive the light of Christ. I take a deep breath, look up at the ceiling and imagine mum, dad, Daniel, Caleb and Lily all sitting up there and staring down at me. I know they’d be here if they could. I know Mum is up there smiling at me for being here and I know that my dad is probably staring at me, wide-eyed with surprise. He only really came because mum thought it was important. I think he thought the rest of us were doing just as he was too. “Merry Christmas,” I whisper, raising my candle up to them. I glance quickly at Noah, but either he didn’t hear me or he’s pretending he didn’t.
When mass has finished, Noah leads me out of the church and through the graveyard. I start to pull away from him as we near the snow-covered grass where my family are buried.
“Noah,” I say, trying to wriggle my hand free. The lights from the church don’t quite stretch out this far and I stumble over a kerb. “I don’t think I can do this,” I tell him.
“You can do anything, Ariel.” He stops and pushes some of my hair behind my ear. “I think you should do this. If you don’t, you might wake up at some point on Boxing Day, full of regret.”
A snowflake lands on my lips. I stick my tongue out and drag it into my mouth. Noah stares at me. I can’t exactly see where his eyes are looking because of the poor light, but I can sense his stare as it moves all over me. “Okay,” I finally say, swallowing the lump that’s formed in my throat.
“Trust me,” he whispers.
I nod because I do. I trust him.
Noah and Me Page 11
