The Seat Filler: A Novel

by Sariah Wilson

  “One you can taste.”

  “There’s nothing to taste,” I told him, finally able to catch my breath enough that I could talk. “Maybe my bile in a second after I puke.”

  “I’ve definitely never caused that reaction before. My reviews tend to be more on the positive side.”

  He was trying to make me laugh. I wished I had the lung capacity for it. “Are you Yelping out your kissing? Are there online reviews?”

  His smile was enormous, and I both saw and felt his relief that I was able to joke with him. Magnus seemed to sense my lingering distress, and he leaned in to lick my face. Noah got up and left the room but came back quickly to sit down next to me on the floor again.

  Noah commented, “You know, as much as that dog of mine loves his own vomit, it’s a safe bet he’d enjoy yours, too. So it would probably be better if you didn’t throw up, because neither one of us needs to see that.”

  “But if I puked on this carpet, how would you even be able to tell?”

  He laughed. “Here.”

  I heard a crinkling sound and looked up at the Snickers bar he was handing me. He said, “The next time you’re thinking of a taste, think of something you love. Like chocolate.”

  My stomach had calmed down enough that I wanted to take a bite. My fingers were shaking so badly that he had to help me open the candy bar. I took a bite, and that sugar rush actually soothed me. Why hadn’t this ever occurred to me before? “This chocolate thing works. Like in Harry Potter.”

  “I hope I kiss better than a dementor.”

  OMG. He spoke nerd. If I didn’t know what the end result would be, I might actually consider kissing him again. It took a few minutes to calm down, for my body to realize we weren’t about to die and that things were okay. That I had panicked, once again, over nothing.

  But Noah didn’t seem to view this as a failure. “You did it. It was hard and scary, but you got through it.”

  “Maybe it’ll be easier next time,” I said. He had really impressed me through this—how calm and gentle he’d been, how encouraging. The research he’d done, the way he’d memorized the steps to help keep me grounded through the attack. He was definitely the right guy to help me get past this.

  He looked surprised. “You want there to be a next time?”

  “I do. I want this to get better.” Another guy would be running for the hills, arms flailing like a maniac. But Noah sat next to me, helping me eat my chocolate.

  My heart warmed, and I didn’t recognize what I was feeling. There were too many things racing around in my body for me to figure out what it was.

  He asked, “Do you want to stay and hang out? We could watch a movie that doesn’t have me in it.”

  My anxiety attacks were exhausting on so many different levels. I was going to crash soon. “Maybe another night. These things wear me out.”

  “Understandable. How about tomorrow night?”

  “Yes. Let’s try this again tomorrow.”

  I sat on the floor and finished my candy bar, with him sitting right next to me. Supporting me, being close.

  After I was done eating, he said, “You’re really brave, do you know that?”

  “It doesn’t feel like bravery. You shot at people and got blown up.”

  “I only ever shot at targets,” he corrected me. “And I think you doing something that terrifies you is very brave.”

  “I feel more like an idiot than a hero.” I shoved the candy bar wrapper into my pocket.

  “You’re not. That was amazing.”

  “Okay. Now you’re just saying stuff to make me feel better.” I put my hand on the wall, intending to get up, and he immediately stood, offering me both of his hands.

  When I got to my feet, I swayed toward him, my head still a little woozy. We stayed there, close together, while I regained my bearings.

  “I’m okay,” I told him, letting go of his hands. I was going to take a step back but realized that I was good where I was, standing so close to him. Now that I’d done it, kissed him, and knew that I was going to do it again, some of that fear had been mitigated. Maybe some of that also had to do with his kindness and respect, but I welcomed not feeling so terrified.

  “I should get going,” I told him.

  I saw his Adam’s apple bob, and he nodded. “Yes. Do you want me to take you home?”

  “You’re not planning on calling a car, are you? I’m just over at Gladys’s house.”

  “No, I meant, do you need help? Do you want me to carry you?”

  If another man had said this to me, I probably would have laughed, because I would have imagined that particular feat to be impossible. But with Noah? I totally believed that he could pick me up like I was some dainty feather and carry me all the way back without even breaking a sweat.

  I got hit with another new feeling I didn’t quite recognize. Something that appreciated his masculinity and strength and how him having those things made me feel more feminine. Which wasn’t a feeling I had experienced before.

  I liked it.

  “I’m okay to walk. I’ve been fortified by a Snickers bar, remember?” I wanted to say something else, something to let him know what tonight had meant to me, but I couldn’t find the words. So I settled on, “I’m sorry about all that. My reaction. But I did warn you.”

  He held up both hands as if he meant to put them on my shoulders, but he let them drop back to his sides. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I feel like I’m the one who should be apologizing to you, for you having to go through that.”

  “This is so not your fault.” Well, a licensed professional might think it was a little bit his fault, since it was his face on the pillow that had started all of this. “I wanted to do this. I want to keep doing this. If you’re okay with it.”

  “I told you, I’m all in. That hasn’t changed.”

  “Not for me, either.”

  “Then it’s decided,” he said with a nod. “Let me walk you out.”

  “No, I know the way. You stay here.” I told Magnus good night and gave Noah a dumb little wave and left. When I got outside, I thought about the enormity of what I’d done. I’d intentionally kissed someone. I’d intentionally kissed Noah Douglas. And that anxiety attack, where I’d really kissed someone and hadn’t just come close to doing it, had felt less intense than the others. Whether that was because of the method Noah had me use or just how he’d supported me through it, I didn’t know. All I did know was that it had been better.

  He’d been right—I had accomplished something important, and I deserved a little celebration. So I jumped up and threw my fists in the air, feeling like I’d just won a battle. Well, maybe I hadn’t won it, but I hadn’t died in the end, so that was good, too.

  Twirling around, it was then that I noticed Noah standing at the front window, apparently keeping an eye on me as I walked back to Gladys’s. I stopped my spinning, dropping my arms. His grin let me know he’d seen all of it.

  Thankful he couldn’t see me blushing because it was dark, I bowed to him instead and laughed out loud when he bowed to me in return with a big, courtly hand flourish.

  I nearly skipped the whole way back.

  I’d forgotten what hope felt like.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The next night Noah texted me to come by at nine. This time I decided to make a little effort. My clothes were pretty much the same, but I showered and actually blow-dried my hair so that it was soft and shiny. I left it down. I put on some eye makeup. Not a ton, but enough to give me a mental boost. I scrubbed my teeth again within an inch of their tiny white lives and left off the lip gloss, because I didn’t need to make an already difficult situation worse by adding pink stickiness on top of it.

  When I got to his house, it was the same routine as the night before. I knocked, he yelled at me to come in, Magnus ran over to check things out. And Noah was in the same spot in the kitchen where he’d been before, again, eating a bowl of cereal.

  “Your hair,” he s
aid, with a mouthful of milk. He swallowed and then said, “I’ve never seen it down before. I like it.”

  The look in his eyes was soft and appreciative, and it made my stomach do somersaults. I found my brain wanting to head into a sarcastic place where, to protect myself and my feelings, I’d say, “I didn’t do it for you,” but that was untrue. I’d totally done it for him and I’d wanted him to notice and I was glad that he did.

  So I just said, “Thanks.” Then I cleared my throat and told him, “There are things you could eat besides cereal, you know.”

  He shook his head. “It’s my favorite food.”

  “Cereal is not anybody’s favorite food.”

  “I know I should probably say it’s something sophisticated like sushi, but it is definitely cereal.” He drank the rest of the milk in his bowl before placing it in the sink. Then he started opening upper cabinets. And every single one of them was filled, top to bottom, side to side, with boxes of different brands of cereals.

  “You’re some kind of weird cereal hoarder,” I said in awe. I liked that he wasn’t this stereotypical macho movie star but had these quirky and nerdy sides that he let me see. Because those were the parts of him I related to.

  And liked.

  “It’s not hoarding if I eat it all. Which I will.” He closed the cabinet doors and said, “I thought we should watch a movie tonight.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Come with me.” He stopped in front of me, offering his hand. My heart jumped up into my throat in both surprise and anticipation. He’d never done that before. But to be fair, our entire situation consisted of things happening between us that had never happened to me before. I slid my hand into his and loved the way his closed around mine, how strong and warm he felt.

  I was holding hands with Noah Douglas. It was like my brain couldn’t process that this was actually happening. I wouldn’t want to be overly dramatic or anything, but my teenage self literally would have died if she could have seen what I was doing right now.

  Tingling shivers were running up and down my arm as he led me into a room I hadn’t gone in before. There was a couch and a TV mounted to the wall, and other than yet another dog bed that Magnus was currently occupying, that was it.

  He sat and pulled me down next to him. Really close next to him.

  “I’ve been trying to think of ways to make this easier. Which made me think of when people typically get their first kisses. When they’re teenagers. So maybe part of the problem is that we’re not doing any teenage courtship rituals. There’s been no physical buildup to our kiss.”

  I held up our still-connected hands. “Like holding hands?”

  “Yes. I’ve held back from touching you before because you seemed so skittish. Which I understand now, but if you’re okay with it, I think we should try to do those physical things, like cuddling and holding hands, and I don’t really know what else we should be doing because all of my knowledge about what normal teens do is based on a TV show, so I’m guessing they’re not entirely accurate.”

  My heart again had that glowy, fluttery feeling. “You are giving this an extraordinary amount of thought.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Honestly, I’m worried if I think about it too much, I’ll go running into the hills and never return. In case you didn’t notice, I’m all about avoidance as a coping mechanism.”

  He nodded, serious. “I noticed. I told you, I tend to overanalyze things when left to my own devices, like our current circumstances.”

  “I’m trying to be in the present with you. Not thinking about it but just doing it.”

  “Would you be okay, then, with us touching each other?”

  This was something I could definitely get on board with. I had been, like he said, skittish when it came to men touching me, because touching had always led us down a road that ended in kissing. So I stayed away from it to avoid the end result.

  But this time I was trying to get to that place.

  “I would be okay with it. And you don’t have to ask me every time. This is my blanket permission.”

  His wolfish grin momentarily made me think maybe that had been the wrong decision. Then he reached up with his free hand and ran his fingertips along the edge of the sapphire pendant necklace I was wearing. I felt little tendrils of fire every place that he touched me. My skin was flushing from the sensation. “So you’d be okay if I told you this was pretty. That you look pretty wearing it.”

  It was like somebody had slammed into me, leaving me momentarily breathless. “What?”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “It was a college graduation present. Sapphires are my birthstone. My mom worked extra hours to get it for me.”

  The next thing that occurred to me was that this was just like the scene in the second Duel of the Fae movie where Malec ripped the truth-telling locket from Aliana’s neck, and instead of being upset with him for destroying a piece of her magic, she kissed him.

  I was understanding her reasoning.

  “Or you’re fine if I do this,” he said.

  Now he moved his hand from my collarbone to my hair, running his fingers through the ends, watching the way the strands twined around his fingers. “So soft,” he murmured, saying it in a way that made me think he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  “That happens when you have nice conditioner.” I was trying to joke, but it was like I could barely get the words out. I wondered if it was okay for me to touch him, too. Would his hair be soft? Would he let me twist and turn it with my fingers? Maybe make little braids in it?

  “That kind of reminds me of the other thing I think we should be doing.” How could he speak so calmly when my insides were being jumbled like crazy? “We should get to know each other better. Like, I don’t even know if you’re from California.”

  “I am. Born and raised.”

  “Okay . . .” He was still playing with my hair, and I was still loving it and wanted to lean into him and purr like a cat. “What about your favorite color?”

  “Teal, like my work polo shirts. What about you?”

  “Black, like my soul.”

  I laughed at that and then said, “My turn. What’s your favorite movie?”

  “Pass.” He shook his head. “Too many for too many different reasons. Same with books. I do have a soft spot for Fight Club, though. Favorite vacation? You already know mine. It was the only one I’ve ever taken.”

  “My mom used to take me up to Big Bear and we’d spend a couple of nights there. We couldn’t really afford to go anywhere else.” I was suddenly realizing the gift I’d been given. I could ask Noah Douglas anything I wanted and I knew he’d answer. He was notoriously tight lipped in his interviews and would often just refuse to answer certain questions that he deemed too personal. And I could find out all of his favorite things while he was playing with my hair.

  Talk about a win-win.

  “Favorite sport?” I asked.

  “Football.”

  “Favorite team?”

  “The Portland Jacks.”

  I didn’t care all that much about sports. I’d only asked because for some guys this was the most important question ever, but since Noah wasn’t waxing on about his eternal love for his team, I figured I was okay to shift questions. “Favorite ice cream?”

  “Vanilla, I guess. I don’t really eat a lot of ice cream.”

  “Don’t . . . eat . . . ,” I sputtered. “I don’t even know what to say to that. I feel like my people have been dishonored or something.”

  He laughed at that and it looked like he was going to ask me a question, so I rushed in first. “Favorite candy bar?”

  “Snickers.”

  I smacked him on the leg. “You can’t choose that. It’s my favorite.”

  “Just one more thing we have in common.” His words had a weight to them that I didn’t want to examine. Just friends. That was it. We didn’t need to overcomplicate things.

  To stop where he was headed,
I asked, “So who is your favorite director?”

  “There’s too many with different forms of artistic expression that it would be impossible for me to pick. Do you have a favorite director?”

  I nodded. “I never used to before, but I do now, since I binged that trilogy of yours. Rian Johnson. That dude’s amazing. So talented.” That he’d directed the second and vastly superior movie in the trilogy was the main reason I’d chosen him. I had really liked Knives Out, too. “So if you won’t pick a favorite director, what about a favorite costar?”

  “Easy. Lily Ramsey.”

  “Good choice,” I told him. She’d seemed so nice. “What do you think is the best feeling in the world?”

  He looked at his fingers, still running through my hair, and hesitated. His eyes met mine, and then he was the one to quickly look away. “I feel like I should say something trite, like climbing into a newly made bed. But I don’t make my bed.”

  “Me neither,” I confessed. It drove Shelby crazy. Which was why I kept my bedroom door shut.

  “So I’d say it’s probably sitting with Magnus while reading a book.”

  Aw. “That’s nice.”

  “But I imagine that the best feeling in the world would be getting to be with the person you love most.”

  “That’s mine, too.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Mostly because I’d never let myself dare to dream that it was possible that I could ever be in a relationship. But I wanted to be. That was why I was doing all this. So that I could get to that point. But it embarrassed me to admit it.

  “You like snuggling with Magnus, too?” he teased, letting me off the hook.

  “I do. He’s such a good boy.”

  Magnus thumped his tail against the floor, pleased at being included.

  Before Noah could maneuver the conversation back to something I wasn’t ready to talk about, I asked, “What’s up with the socks?” Tonight he was sporting penguins on his feet.

  “Too many people in this industry get caught up in their own self-importance and believe their own hype. They’re a reminder to not take myself too seriously. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’re hogging this conversation. I want to know about you, too.”