by A. J. Pine
Noah leans in, his hair brushing the flower clip above my ear, so only I can hear him above Elastica’s “Connection.”
“I don’t need to see you to know she’s right.” I gasp, and he must hear, but he pulls away.
“Thanks for the invite.” It’s Ethan, Noah’s brother, and I finally turn. Noah wears a fitted navy sweater, a collared shirt underneath, the bottom of the button-down hanging out over the top of his jeans. The clothes do nothing to hide the definition of the bare chest and shoulders I witnessed. I’m sure Ethan is wearing something, but whether it’s a tux or a tutu, I couldn’t say.
Though it’s after eleven o’clock, one booth remains open, and Victoria hops off her bar stool and grabs her drink.
“Come on, then. We can all fit over here.”
As always, she leads, and in a bit of a haze I follow to the spacious booth on the wall. Ethan and Noah slide in on one side, Hugh and Victoria on the other. I start to sit on the end next to Victoria, but she slides over leaving me no room.
“Sorry, love. My bag is almost as big as my bum. Sit across from me so I can see you!”
I look at her tiny clutch on the booth between her and Hugh and offer her my best “What the hell?” glare. She smiles and pats the tabletop across from her, and like an obedient cat, I slide in next to Noah, tentative and untrusting.
“You boys need a drink,” she says, waving over a server. “How ’bout a pitcher for the table? It’s getting more crowded. Service is going to get slower.”
“Sounds great.” Noah pulls two ten-pound notes from his pocket. “First one’s on us, since we crashed your party.”
Out of my peripheral vision I see him grin. A kingdom of butterflies dances in my stomach.
It’s getting louder, and Victoria focuses her conversational talents on Ethan with occasional interjections from Hugh. I face her, though she clearly ignores me.
Without turning to him, I ask, “What are you doing here, Noah?”
Above the growing din of the bar, I hear him take a deep breath before responding.
“I’m not sure yet.”
At least he’s honest.
“When I saw you yesterday…and in a tattoo shop? What the hell are the odds of that? I wanted to talk to you. But then you took off, which seems to be a pattern with us. I don’t want it to be like this anymore.”
The heat of anger rushes through me now, making it possible to look at him without losing my words.
“What do you want? Why are you hijacking my New Year’s Eve?”
Distance. I need distance.
I leave my drink and rush to the back of the bar. It’s crowded, and the music plays louder. I try to lose myself in the throng of people who convene under a neon clock. It’s two minutes to midnight.
Noah is next to me within seconds, and I’m furious.
“Jordan, please!” He yells. He has to. The noise builds to crescendo.
He grabs my wrist and pulls me past the mass of bodies and into the hallway that leads to the loos.
I gasp for breath, sure the air is getting thinner. What is he doing here? And why, after all this time, do I still react to his skin on mine. He knows how I felt about him—dammit—how I still feel despite myself. But that doesn’t mean he gets to swoop into my New Year’s Eve and call me beautiful.
“What, Noah? What?” As my voice grows louder, ache gives way to anger, and my eyes burn with tears. Because after thinking I was past all this, in what seems like minutes I’m about to come completely undone.
He runs his right hand through his hair, and I catch a glimpse of the scar on his palm. The sight of it softens my fury enough to listen, if only for a minute.
“Hailey went home to Ohio for the holidays.”
I flinch at the sound of her name. Beyond the hallway, back toward the bar, the countdown begins.
Ten! The bartenders stand on the bar and yell.
“Why are you telling me this, Noah? So I don’t forget I’m your second choice?”
Nine! The patrons join in.
“No! Shit. I told you everything comes out wrong when I’m with you. Don’t you see why? You, Jordan. I thought safe and familiar was my only choice. But you? You are unending turbulence. I do and say everything wrong when I’m around you, but isn’t that what falling is? It’s messy and difficult, and sometimes it even fucking hurts.” He heaves a few breaths. “I’m not with Hailey, Jordan.”
Eight! Space. I need space.
“What?”
Seven! Distance works for us.
His words rush out of him now. “I don’t think I ever really was. She pushed for it to work, and I tried because I thought I owed it to whatever we were before we got here. I’m not gonna lie. I loved her once, and the breakup was rough. So when we had a chance to make it right, I had to honor that. But there was always something in the way. You were in the way. I’ve tried to tell you so many times. But you kept up with this idea of expiration dates and this year not being real. You almost made me believe it…until that morning on the way to class.”
Six!
Five!
Everything is real. I said it to him, thinking it didn’t matter, but had it?
“But this…” He motions between us. “This is fucking real. It’s always been real. And I know I may have missed my chance, but if I say nothing, I lose either way.”
Four!
He says all the right things, everything I’ve wanted to hear for months, everything I thought I didn’t need anymore. And it’s too much. I never let myself hope, but he throws reasons at me from every direction. How can I trust this is any more real than a kiss outside the loo on a train?
Three!
My defenses take over, letting the anger rise again.
“So you randomly bump into me and decide you want me to be the rebound? I’m flattered.”
Two!
His eyes darken, boring into me, and they are blue, so blue in the dim glow of the hallway light.
“It wasn’t random. I’ve been looking for you for a week!”
One!
I have no words.
Happy New Year!
The distance between us vanishes, my back against the wall and his face only centimeters from mine.
“It’s you, Brooks.” His fingers brush lightly across my cheek, tracing the line of my hair as it disappears behind my ear.
Brooks. At the sound of my own name, I melt.
“Ever since the train it’s been you,” he says. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. Just tell me I’m not too late. Tell me I didn’t blow it.”
I’m too stunned to say what’s true, that since the train it has always been him. It’s not that I didn’t care about Griffin because I did. I still do. But as much as I tried to turn off whatever it was Noah awakened in me, I couldn’t. It was there, lying dormant until our hands touched under an ice cold tap, until my last name tumbled from his lips. So I reach my palm to his cheek, knowing that however much I buried the feeling, I’ve never stopped wanting to touch him like this. Gone is the desperation in his expression, replaced now by an easy smile. He turns his face so his lips meet the heel of my hand. The kiss is delicate, but everything inside me ignites.
“What does it say?” His breath puffs against my hand.
The word on my wrist almost touches his face. Smiling, I bite my bottom lip.
“I’ll tell you about it later.” My breathing grows shallower each second his lips torment me with their proximity.
“Later it is, then.”
He takes my hand from his mouth, wrapping it around his neck. My other reaches to meet it, pulling him down to me. His lips find the line of my jaw first, teasing and tickling their way to my chin. Tiny gasps escape my lips, punctuating the rhythm of his mouth against my skin. Instead of moving his lips to mine, he trails down my neck to my shoulder, bare except for the thin strap of my tank. I tilt my head toward the opposite shoulder, leaving him room to explore. But he pauses, his face resting at the bottom of
my neck, his ragged breath heating my skin.
I move my hands to his face and pull him back up.
“What is it?” Worry creeps into my words. What if he’s having second thoughts? I drop my hands, but before they reach my sides he grasps both of my wrists.
“Don’t let go, Brooks. I don’t want another minute to go by without touching you.”
This is a Noah I didn’t know existed, one I couldn’t have imagined would exist for me. I move into him again. He lets my hands go, and I rest them on his chest.
“Then kiss me, already.”
He does. Our mouths move slowly, gently, discovering. His tongue traces the path of my mouth before breaking through my parted lips. Tiny explosions demolish the last barriers between us, and finally, finally the wait is over.
An unexpected giggle escapes me.
“What?” he asks, pulling back only enough to articulate the word.
“What is it with us and loos?”
His eyes dart up and down the small corridor, the one that holds the restrooms, and his chest heaves with a small laugh.
“I guess I can’t resist a bloke who knows how important a nearby loo is to me.”
He kisses me again. Each time our lips part, if only for a second, I think there’s no way I’d survive three months between kisses this time. I can barely let him go for a few seconds.
In the space of a breath I tell him. “It’s Hebrew, the word on my wrist. It’s the Hebrew word for love.”
Though I’m sure we are no longer alone in this hallway, neither of us notices. And for a stretch of time, maybe seconds, maybe minutes, we don’t surrender enough breathing room for either of us to speak again.
Arrival
(Still Early January)
“You are inclined to get muddled… Let yourself go. Pull out from the depths those thoughts that you do not understand, and spread them out in the sunlight and know the meaning of them.”
E. M. Forster
A Room with a View
Chapter Sixteen
On the train. In the taxi from the train station to campus. In the stairwell of my building. And right now, up against the main door to my flat. These are all the places Noah and I have not been able to keep our hands off each other today. We weren’t that couple, the one sitting in plain sight partaking in ridiculous displays of PDA. We were, however, thinking about it. At least I was.
When we ate salt-and-vinegar crisps on the train for breakfast, I thought about kissing him. When he confessed to actually enjoying Pride and Prejudice, I wanted to kiss him. When he pulled out his tattered copy of The Great Gatsby, the book he couldn’t wait to teach someday, and read me the shirt scene, I wanted to kiss him. And when he spoke of the devastation he felt for Gatsby at Daisy’s realization in that scene of all he’d done because of her, I did kiss him and didn’t care who saw.
And now he steals one more kiss, the last one before we walk over the threshold of reality into my flat.
“You know we’re not going to make it past the door if Elaina is home, right? And if Duncan’s with her, then that’s it. This?” I motion back and forth between us with my index finger. “Us? An audience of Duncan may as well be the entire Aberdeen public. Are you okay with that?”
He answers me with his mouth on mine, and for several seconds I let him keep answering me before pulling away.
“Noah! I’m serious. What about Hailey?”
This question is as much for my sake as hers. It’s amazing how on a nine-hour train ride two people can successfully avoid the same topic.
He’s quiet for a moment, and it’s hard to read his eyes in the dimness of the stairwell.
“She knows.” He says it like an admission.
I’m not sure if I’m angry or terrified. “What do you mean she knows? This all happened last night. Have you spoken to her?” I am not a jealous girlfriend. I don’t know if I’m a girlfriend at all, but the thought him connecting with her after last night turns my stomach whether I want it to or not.
When I escape the vortex of my head, I see him smiling, and I don’t like it. I love his smile, but I’m powerless against it.
“Brooks.” He bends to kiss my nose. He’s teasing me, and I pout. “When we ended things, it was mutual, but I was completely honest with her.”
His smile fades slightly, and I can tell he’s not sure if he should say what’s coming next.
“What?” I ask. “Whatever it is, say it.”
“I told her how I felt about you, never once thinking two weeks later I’d be standing here, with you. And you’re worried about people finding out?” He bypasses my nose and goes right for my lips this time. “Tell the whole damn school,” he says, his mouth still resting on mine.
The door opens, and we tumble inside over our bags.
“Tell the school what?” Elaina stands, arms crossed and brow raised. She’s even tapping her foot. She holds back a smile, though, and when I burst out laughing, she does the same.
“I missed you!” I say, throwing my arms around her, and I missed you!” I say, throwing my arms around her..
“I missed you, too, pussy lightweight.” She pushes me gently back toward Noah. “And I see you brought home a souvenir from your trip, no?”
Duncan pops his head around Elaina’s open bedroom door.
“Allo, Jordan. Have a nice holiday, did ya? Oy! Is that Noah there with you?”
“Yes, Duncan. It’s Noah.” Noah waves, and I look back at Elaina. “You remember Noah, from the pub?” Of course she remembers him. “Fyfe doesn’t open back up until tomorrow, so Noah’s going to crash here tonight. I assume Duncan is doing the same?”
Not all residence halls stay open during the holiday break. I lucked out. Noah didn’t. He was planning on staying in London for one more night, though his brother was flying back to the states today, so I convinced him to come back with me instead. The convincing part wasn’t hard. The talk on the train about sleeping in the same bed together was. For as much as I’ve talked to Sam and Elaina about the whole two-year dry spell thing, that’s not the kind of thing you bring up to a guy after the first—or second—kiss. We agreed that since we are kind of doing this whole dating thing ass-backward, for our first night together we will keep it PG. Kissing only. But lots of it.
“Yes.” The word is short, even for one syllable. “Duncan is staying here tonight. He is my boyfriend. He stays here most nights because I do not sleep in the house of boys.”
“Elaina. Am I in trouble?”
Noah clasps my hand, and an involuntary shiver accompanies it. This is new. Everything is new. “No. You’re not in trouble,” he says, explaining to me but never taking his eyes off Elaina. “She’s your friend, and she’s protecting you. I’m pretty sure I’m the one in trouble, or at least I get the sense that I will be if I mess this up.”
She looks him up and down. “He is smart. I like that. But I will kill him while he’s sleeping if he hurts you. That may sound brutal, but he is bigger than me and would probably fight back if he was awake. So, I do it in the sleep.”
“Elaina!” I yell.
“Don’t worry.” Noah squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you have someone looking out for you. Aside from the death threat, it’s nice.”
Without letting go of Noah, I lean forward and wrap my free arm around Elaina.
“I love you, too,” I whisper and kiss her on the cheek. “Happy New Year, Duncan,” I say as we head into my room.
“Cheers!” he yells as Elaina backs in through her doorway. Both our doors close in unison.
Only giving myself time to take off my jacket, I flop down onto my bed, the exhaustion of the past two weeks, of the past night, setting in. Noah still stands.
“Come here,” I say, pulling at the bottom of his fleece.
“Are you sure? It’s not too late for me to go find an inn or a hotel in town.”
I tug his jacket again, and this time he follows my hand back to the bed, sitting down next to me.
“Don’t think for a second you can tease me about sleeping together and then have second thoughts. And by sleep I mean sleep, but it will involve some kissing and spooning, and maybe a little heavy petting.” I try to lighten the mood, to eliminate both our nerves. “I promise Elaina won’t kill you tonight.”
He smiles, finally, but I still hear trepidation in his voice. “I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to do. Spooning notwithstanding.”
I swing my leg over his so I’m now on his lap, straddling him, forward even for me, but I can’t resist. “Do not,” I start, pausing to kiss him, “think of withholding the spoon, or you will have scarier things to deal with than Elaina.”
He collapses onto his back, pulling me on top of him. I yelp with laughter, and through the wall, I sense Elaina rolling her eyes.
“Then I guess I’d better stay.” His lips crush into mine, and my hands get lost in his hair. It’s not just spring I smell, but winter, summer, fall. He’s everything, and it both terrifies and delights me.
My bed is so tiny I have nightly fears of rolling to the floor. But lying here with Noah, touching him—tasting him—every inch of my body in contact with his, nothing could fit better.
I prop myself up to speak, not wanting to leave the space where I belong. “I need to hit pause here for a few minutes. Please remember where we were when I get back.”
“Where’re you going?”
I kiss his forehead, a little more than pleased at the letdown in his voice.
“I am gross with travel. I want to wash up, brush my teeth, put on some sleep clothes. Don’t you want to do the same?” It’s still not quite hitting me that this is happening, this beautiful blue-eyed guy who calls me Brooks is here, with me.
“If I can brush my teeth in the kitchen while you’re in the loo, I’m all good.”
I grab the pillow out from under him and whack him on the head. “Why is it that girls have the whole bedtime routine, and you need to brush your teeth and you’re all good? I mean, I don’t consider myself high maintenance, but you are no maintenance at all!”
