Noah (More Than Friends Book 2)

by Fiona Keane

  I leaned against the brick wall of Retrovaille, thankful Sean and Jesse were also late, as I chewed my bottom lip while waiting for my brunch companions. Autumn was near; I could feel it in the oppressive humidity that lingered like a fever about to break each August.

  “Noah!” I looked up from the wrestling squirrels that distracted me, catching Sean and Jesse bounding toward me from across the street. I didn’t know if it was them being an extension of my girlfriend or that I truly did like them, but I was smiling like a kid whose best friends just got dropped off at my house for the week. Nothing but videogames, forts, food fights, and fun. Sean reached me first, wasting no time in hugging me.

  “Ave talked to Lizzie,” Sean probed, patting my bicep before stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Is there anything we can do?” We shuffled into the restaurant, and I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Dammit,” Jesse groaned behind us. “Ella has my credit card.”

  “Just,” I clenched my jaw, “take care of Lizzie for me.”

  Sean nodded, his lips folded inward and eyebrows furrowed. “Are we talking about the same girl here?” The hostess guided us up the metal stairs to the rooftop; all the while, Sean chuckled softly. It was perfect weather outside, and I really did look forward to the brunch Sean planned for us. I wanted to know them. I wanted to be part of it all.

  Jesse ordered coffees for the three of us before returning to our conversation. “Lizzie doesn’t need much taking care of. She’s sort of the mother hen of those girls.”

  “That’s Ella,” Sean objected. They exchanged a glance before Sean continued, “Lizzie’s probably the strongest on the outside. She’s like one of those fancy chocolate eggs. Tough and dark on the outside but gooey in the center.”

  Jesse covered his mouth as coffee dribbled from his lips while resisting a laugh. “Gooey?”

  “No shit.” I laughed, nodding when I considered how long they’d all known one another. “How well do you actually know Lizzie, Sean?”

  “Um…” He rubbed his neck while leaning back in his chair, a nervous laugh filling the air. “There was one time in undergrad when I might have mistaken her for Avery.”

  “Two times,” I corrected, remembering Lizzie’s story. “How’d that go?”

  “She kicked his ass,” Jesse blurted. “He had a black eye that lasted two weeks.”

  I watched Sean shrug and nod as though that was an expected reaction from Lizzie. I could totally see it happening, and I loved her even more for it. “Sounds right.”

  “She bought me some beer and an ice pack, though,” Sean recalled. “See? Hard and gooey.” He snickered, reaching for his refilled coffee mug. “Their tripod is indestructible. If Avery wasn’t pregnant, I’m sure she’d be spending the night with you two at least three times a week.”

  “How is she feeling?” Jesse inquired. “She canceled our date the other night. Can’t say I see why. I mean, I am her best friend.” I listened to their banter, the discussion of Avery’s peculiar cravings and pains, talk of Jesse’s job, and then my favorite topic: Elizabeth Jacqueline Lewis.

  “Tell us what’s going on with you two,” Sean pressed. He leaned back in his seat, totally relaxed and eager. His sunglasses clung to the V of his shirt, teeth bright beneath his wide grin, and even with wild hair, the bastard belonged on a billboard. Lizzie wasn’t kidding. Jesse scratched his beard and leaned over the edge of the table, staring at me expectantly.

  “You’re funny,” I playfully mocked Sean, rewarded with his laughter. “I’m not telling.”

  “Shit.” Sean covered his mouth. “Jesse, get a lottery ticket.”

  I glanced at Jesse, his smile wide as Sean’s. “Wow. I mean…I knew you two were serious…but honestly, I didn’t think anyone could tie down Lizzie.”

  “Some friends you are, talking about Lizzie like this,” I taunted, shaking my head while I reached for my coffee cup. “I think she’d prefer if I kept our life private.”

  “You have a life.” Sean held his chest. “You are in love.” It took five more minutes of those two giving me shit before they calmed down and we could talk about something else. Sean told us about the foundation his dad started, letting Sean participate with developing a program for cancer survivors. It kicked me right in the chest, and I ate it up like a hopeless romantic. He was sponsoring housing for families in treatment. This guy was a saint, and I didn’t know how to keep up.

  “Sean,” I interrupted their exchange about the foundation, considering his generosity, “I meant to thank you for the plaque you and Avery gave me at Lizzie’s. It’s beautiful, and—”

  “Don’t mention it.” He smiled. “It was just something small to remind you how important you are and how important what you do is.”

  We were getting ready for the bill when my phone rang, the fire station number flashing across my screen. It was one of those perfect summer mornings, warm and stagnant, and I was uneasy looking at my phone. Well, the missed texts from Lizzie were something else, but the fire station sent my stomach into a knot.

  “Hello?” I hesitantly answered, a final swig of coffee floating between my cheeks, unsure of what demands awaited me. I was pleased when the Chief answered, his voice calm.

  “Rossi,” he began, “Nina called in, two recruits have the flu, and we need you to cover third shift starting at one.”

  “That’s more than third shift, Chief,” I rebuked. “I’m not even on call today…” And I really want to have one of those perfect do-nothing days with Lizzie after brunch. And pack up my house, because the most beautiful woman in the damn world told me to move in with her.

  “Come in.” Click.

  “Everything okay?” Sean inquired when I aggressively shoved my phone back into my pocket, cursing under my breath.

  “No,” I answered. “I have to cover a shift in,” I looked at my watch, “two hours.”

  ***

  Bonding with Sean and Jesse over brunch was food for the soul, and Lizzie understood I needed to work. She’d sent me three selfies that promised an antidote to getting called in, which absolutely made adjusting into my shift difficult…to say the least.

  Medical bags were reorganized, twice, and I’d cleaned the bunks. The fridge was stocked, and a rookie was prepping dinner while most everyone lounged around, watching the news or football highlights.

  I lifted weights for an hour, killing time, and was headed into the shower when the Chief stepped in my path.

  “You feeling a little naked without my dog in your arms, Chief?” I teased, trying to squeeze by him.

  “I’m excited to meet who’s taken my place.” He stuck his nose up, feigning hurt. “But I just got a call from one of the Reserve’s officers. There’s been a mistake in their timeline.”

  My heart sank. “What?” I felt my eyes begin to throb, bouncing back and forth while trying to read the Chief’s mind.

  “You’re not called, Rossi. Not yet, at least. They rescinded their schedule.” I gasped for air, inhaling what I could before balancing my left palm against the wall. “You okay, kid?”

  No. Yes. No. Would Lizzie still want to move in together? Lizzie. “Yes.”

  He patted my back, grumbling something about dinner on his way past me, but I stood like a fool in the hallway. I was dripping with sweat from working out, my shirt dangling from the waistband of my pants. I rolled my gaze downward, my eyes tracing the lines of the calla lily that drove Lizzie nuts. I couldn’t wait to tell her. I just needed to breathe first. It was like life slugged me right in the stomach, taking air from my lungs and leaving my gasping for something, and now the world was handing me a chance to exhale.

  I ran to my locker, excited as hell to text Lizzie and tell her the news. I snapped a photo of myself, a mess and shirtless, knowing she’d appreciate it, and began typing a message to go along with it.

  Me: I need a shower. When I get home—

  “Noah?”

  My thumbs froze. I waited, my back to the woman repeating my
name, making sure I wasn’t delusional from working out on a belly full of caffeine and the euphoric high of what the Chief just told me.

  “Turn around,” she demanded. Her voice alone was enough to piss me off. My muscles stiffened, still feeling like the wind was knocked out of me, and I was hot, burning up with the hate and disgust I’d buried and burned after Muffin and I lit my sheets ablaze months ago.

  “You shouldn’t be back here, Callie,” I muttered, shoving my phone into my locker and pulling a white t-shirt over my head.

  “We need to talk.”

  “No.” I turned to her, callous and disgusted. “We don’t.” I walked away from her, wondering who I had to kill first for letting my cheating ex-girlfriend into the damn locker room. My fingers wrapped around the doorframe, balancing my weight as I spun out of the doorway.

  “I’m pregnant,” she called after me. Her voice was an acid curdled in my throat, something I couldn’t cough to clear.

  The last five minutes included my boss telling me there’d been a mistake with the Reserves schedule, me getting ready to tell Lizzie we weren’t getting out of bed for a week the moment I got home, and now this. I had to be hallucinating.

  “It’s yours, Noah,” she announced, as though it was something to celebrate. I turned from the doorway, finding it difficult to take my hand off the doorframe, as if the future was telling me to step the hell away from Callie.

  “Callie,” I clenched my jaw, her name sickening me, “I haven’t seen you in months. The last time we slept together, we used protection because you switched pills. I’m not a fucking idiot. Get the hell out of here.” I started to sweat beyond the response to my workout, while she stared at me. Her eyes widened, examining my body before narrowing onto the calla lily and roses on my stomach.

  “Go back to your boyfriend, Callie,” I admonished, turning once more. Her cold fingers wrapped around my forearm, burning the mermaid Lizzie loved.

  “Please, Noah. Can we talk about this? I’m terrified.” I peeled her fingers from my arm, stepping within an inch of her. She smelled the same, like the alcohol of perfume and no fragrance. I didn’t know what I even saw in her or what I hoped to have found in her.

  “There’s no way your baby is mine, Callie. You sleep with anyone under the sun,” I reminded her, winking like an asshole. She took my hand from my side and held it to her stomach, fanning my fingers along the small bump. I studied my hand against her, its tattooed enormity entirely out of place against the body of another woman.

  “It’s yours,” she repeated, unfolding her cold hand over mine. “It’s almost five months along.”

  My hand to her stomach, I rolled my eyes up to hers. “Five months? What the hell, Callie? How could you not have known?”

  “I’ve never been regular.” She shrugged. “I didn’t think anything of it until two months ago.”

  “Have you been to a doctor?” She shook her head in response, and I pulled my hand away, almost flinching at the idea she could be carrying my child. There’s no way. What the hell do I tell Lizzie? How do I explain this? What do I even say? What do I do?

  “Come on.” I nodded my head to the doorway, leading Callie down the hallway and into an exam room. I wasn’t a tech, but I could read an ultrasound, and I needed proof. She stood next to the bed, her fingers twisting at her waist.

  “Now you’re being shy?” I mocked, hating her even more for ruining my life. “Lay down. Lift your shirt. I’m sure you’ve done that plenty in the last year.”

  “Please,” she whimpered while climbing onto the bed, “do you have any idea how horrible I feel? I’m bringing a child into the world with a man who hates me, a man I hurt.”

  “Just lay down, Callie,” I groaned, trying to treat her more like a patient than my nemesis. The baby was a baby, a harmless thing brought into this world through biology. It wasn’t the baby’s fault. The baby was innocent. I needed a mantra to keep my cool while rolling the wand over the small bump below her belly button. She muttered something about her apologies, playing the victim in all of it, and I ignored her, focused only on the small flutter of a fetus in my ex-girlfriend’s belly.

  “You’re pregnant.” I gaped, overwhelmed with nausea.

  “I told you,” she groaned. “Can we talk about this now?” I couldn’t focus my stare on anything, as my eyes were blurry and crossing, but I managed to hand Callie a tissue so she could wipe the jelly from her stomach before she pulled her shirt over the bump.

  “Callie, I’m in love with someone,” I declared, backing away from her. I didn’t stop moving until my ass slammed into the cabinets against a wall behind me. “This is not happening.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I called the Reserves office to confirm their message from the Chief, and then I drank just enough to not feel my toes and still feel in control of my surroundings. The walk home in the middle of the night was difficult but nothing compared to what I needed to tell Lizzie. I didn’t know how I could face her after Callie’s news. I felt disgusting, like I’d known all along and was only now able to tell her. But the thing was, I didn’t know. I didn’t have a damn clue. I sealed the book of girlfriends-past the moment Lizzie touched me, and I’d signed off on knowing Callie the second Muffin and I caught her in bed with another dude. Except now, she’s pregnant.

  I took my sweet-ass time toward the next step in my day, an emotional wreck as it was. My day started with Lizzie, brunch with her friends, and thinking of that made me feel…dirty. They were genuine people with no idea of the bombshell I was about to drop on Lizzie. It started to thunder, and I couldn’t pick up my pace. Why destroy my relationship any faster than necessary?

  I unlocked the front door and stepped out of the rain, Muffin waiting for me near the foyer. His claws clicked as he waddled in my shadow, so I picked him up, not wanting to wake Lizzie or her cats. The condo was dark, quiet save for the hum of the oil diffuser in the living room. I stepped into the room, clicking off the machine, and shook my hands as though that would rid my anxiety. The same hands that just held Callie’s stomach. What the hell? Muffin snorted and burrowed into my chest while I fumbled in the hallway on my way to Lizzie’s room. I didn’t want to wake her, and I wasn’t a coward who would leave a letter for her to wake up to, but I knew I couldn’t crawl into bed with her…even though my body and mind craved it more than ever.

  The light filtered in through the open window, just enough of the streetlight and moon to highlight every curve of her exposed skin. She slept in a shirt of mine, the loose sleeve pulled over her bare shoulder in sleep, folding over the curve of her hip and exposing the soft skin of her stomach and driving me crazy. I watched her for a moment, trying to blink myself to sobriety and erase Callie’s visit, but both were fact, and I needed to do something about it. Lizzie’s bedroom was too small for a crib, and now I felt too big for her world, too messy…too destructive.

  I knelt at Lizzie’s bedside, inches from her face while Muffin huffed between us. I couldn’t believe how peaceful she looked, her curls wildly framing her perfect face like a halo and her eyelashes fluttering in sleep.

  “I love you,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead while she slept. “I always will.”

  “Love you,” she hummed in her sleep before adjusting her pillow and slipping further away into her dream.

  I might be a dad. Lizzie wasn’t ready to be a step-mother; she only told me to move in because we thought I was leaving for a few weeks. Dammit, I have too much to tell her. And here we were…

  I wandered through her condo, Muffin in tow, trying to be as quiet as I could while collecting his bag of food, tempted to sleep on the couch and wake up to Lizzie making coffee. I didn’t even remember what day it was; what good was I at telling Lizzie what happened?

  I sat on her couch, staring at Muffin, who scrutinized me with his smooshed face. I could read those big brown eyes, and they were scolding me. And I needed to stop drinking, stop dating, and rewind in time to before I kne
w I was about to hurt Lizzie.

  I needed to tell her. I told myself I would in the morning, after I’d slept off this stupor and grounded myself. I carried Muffin with me to the apartment we called home so seldomly since falling for Lizzie and passed out on the couch.

  I don’t remember dreaming, but I do remember waking to the sun blinding me as it poured in through the window…and Lizzie calling my phone.

  “You’re alive,” she scoffed when I answered the call, not even uttering a word.

  “Liz—”

  “I’m almost to your place. That’s where you are, right? Or are you still at work? You didn’t come home last night, and I was worried. Sorry. Is this too much?”

  I sat up, pinching my forehead and regretting the beers. “It’s perfect, but Lizzie, I need to talk to you.”

  “Great,” she giggled, “because I’m walking up your steps right now, mermaid.” I heard her footsteps on the creaking porch and front steps before the doorknob wiggled. In the five seconds it took to register Lizzie standing in my living room, I saw it all flash before my eyes. I was about to lose her, to lose the greatest person I’d ever loved, to lose it all.

  She wore a long, sleeveless, black dress with the sort of light fabric that loosely cascaded around her, longingly clinging to the curves of her figure before stopping above her sandaled feet. I couldn’t take my eyes from her sparkling toenails, thinking about how they looked peeping out of bubbles in her tub or resting on my bare shoulders when we’d make love.

  “What’s going on?” I watched her toes creep closer before Muffin waddled between us. “Aww, there’s our baby.” Lizzie knelt down, scooping up Muffin and scratching his ears. He grunted with pleasure and nestled into the crook of her arm. Our baby. Baby. “Don’t I get a kiss hello from my other guy?”