“Yeah?” I say, slightly bemused. I wasn't sure how much I enjoyed wearing them but the guys seemed to like them which made it worth it. Especially when it was Noah who was doing the admiring.
“Yeah,” he confirms.
We make our way out to the garage and then we climb in Noah's car. With the overhead light on, he looks at me questioningly. “Where to?”
I'd won our little bet so I get to choose what we do tonight. I'm pretty sure he let me win because he was curious to see what I'd plan. I'd thought long and hard about what to do and in the end, I decided I want to be spontaneous. “Just head downtown and park somewhere. I want to walk around for a bit,” I say.
He nods and starts the car up. Both of us are silent as we make our way downtown. Noah navigates through the traffic before parallel parking on a busy street. We both climb out and Noah smiles as he walks toward me. “I'm all yours.”
I know he means it in more ways than one and I like it.
We begin to walk down the sidewalk and since this is not a date, he doesn't put his arm around me or hold my hand. I find myself wishing it was and try to push aside those thoughts. Tonight is about having fun with a friend.
My eyes scan the shops and restaurants as we pass by. I spot a little Mexican restaurant up ahead and my eyes brighten. I reach for Noah's hand and lead him inside. The scent of jalapeños and peppers, mixed with other scents make my mouth water since we'd skipped dinner earlier, knowing we'd likely eat out tonight.
The restaurant is decorated in a Mexican theme and full of bright, lively colors. The place is kind of crowded but the hostess manages to find us a little table in the back. We sit down and order our drinks before scanning our menus.
“I suppose I should have asked if you like Mexican,” I say to Noah when he looks up from his menu.
“I do,” he assures.
I decide on quesadillas while Noah orders a platter of enchiladas. When we're alone again, I settle back in my chair, take a sip of my soda and look at Noah with great interest.
He catches the look in my eye and gives me a questioning look. “What's on your mind?”
“What kind of women do you usually go for?”
“Dark haired with green eyes.”
I roll my eyes. “I'm serious. Do you gravitate more towards blondes or brunettes? Or maybe redheads?”
Noah looks amused. “You really want to know?”
“Yep.”
“I never really had a 'type.' I just went out with someone when they caught my interest and seemed interested in return.”
Well, that doesn't tell me too much. “Do you like bold women or do you like the ones that are comfortable not being the center of attention?”
“Does it really matter?”
“I'm just curious.”
He shakes his head. “Be curious about something else. I am not talking about women with you, it's a complete mood killer.”
I'm disappointed but let him have his way. I was just trying to figure out what kind of women usually caught his attention in hopes that it would tell me a little more about why he's interested in me. “Okay, tell me what life was like before the accident,” I say lightly as I switch the topic.
Our waitress pauses at our table before he can answer and sets a bowl or tortilla chips and salsa down, before sauntering away. He reaches for one and says in reference to my question, “It was pretty average. I never knew my dad and my mom died when I was eight, so I grew up in foster homes,” he explains as he dips the chip in the sauce and pops it in his mouth.
“When you say foster homes as in plural, how many are you talking?” I ask as I reach for the chips as well.
“Several. I got bounced around a lot but eventually ended up in a stable home my junior and senior year. I had friends, played sports and did all the stuff guys tend to do.”
“I bet you were popular in high school and on the football team, am I right?”
“Guilty.”
“And you got frisky with the head cheerleader behind the bleachers.”
“Guilty.”
I grin at him. “So you were the typical, popular jock.” I could so see it. He was just so laid back and easy going. I bet the girls fought over him.
“I was, yes.”
“Do you miss those times?” I ask curiously.
Noah laughs. “No. Obviously I miss my hearing but those days are over and I'm pretty happy with where life has taken me.”
I nod. “I like that.”
“Like what?”
“That you don't really have any regrets.”
“There's no point regretting what you can't change. You just move on,” he says lightly.
When our meal arrives, we begin to eat.
“Tell me something about you that I don't know yet,” Noah says out of the clear blue.
My mouth is full of food, so I chew and think over his question before swallowing and answering. “I hate country music.”
“That's menial. Tell me something good,” he says as he pushes his plate aside and looks at me with interest.
“Um...I don't know. You know mostly everything about me,” I say with a shrug.
“How about this. If you could do anything in the world with nothing holding you back, what would you do?” he asks.
My nose wrinkles. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” he says with amusement.
I think long and hard before looking at him sheepishly. “I'd take a vacation.”
“A vacation?” he asks slowly, obviously not expecting that one.
“Yeah. Seven days of relaxation and bliss. No past, no future to worry over, just me and seven days of freedom to be who I want to be.”
“Where would you go?” he asks with interest.
“Hawaii.”
“So, you could do anything in the world, and you would choose the average vacation getaway?”
“Yep.”
He smiles. “Interesting. Ready?” he asks, referring to the fact that my plate is empty and we'd decided to forgo desert.
“I believe I am.”
We pay our bill and exit the restaurant. My mood is relaxed and light hearted as we walk down the busy sidewalk. It's a Friday evening and everyone seems to be out and about. Noah is patient as we walk and not a single suggestion leaves his mouth. He's clearly willing to walk around all night if that is what I want to do. I spot the tattoo shop up ahead and excitement bolts through me.
That's it. That's what I want to do.
I grab Noah's hand and lead him towards the tattoo shop. I catch sight of the wary look crossing his features as we head inside. Loud music greets us and I see the shop is pretty busy. People are standing at the counter up front while others move around the room, looking at all the tattoo designs on the walls.
Noah's hand touches my hip as he leans in and says, “Please tell me we aren't here for a tattoo.”
I grin up at him. “You are. I'm here for a piercing.”
“You want me to get a tattoo?”
“Yeah.” Actually, I don't expect him to but I'm curious to see how far he'll go to do what I want tonight.
Doubt flickers across his face before his expression shifts into a slight smile. “Does that mean you're picking the design?”
He's clearly yanking my chain and has decided to play the game with me. “You want me to?”
“Why not,” he says with a shrug. “But I get to choose the piercing, right? Where are you getting pierced?”
“Belly button.” He looks relieved and I'm curious as to where he thought I'd pierce myself besides my belly button but I decide to leave that inquiry for later. “Alright, go find me a piercing. Something cute,” I order before I saunter off to go look at the tattoos on the walls.
Once I make my way across the room, I glance back to see if Noah's going to do as I ask and I see he's up front, scanning the glass encased counter that has piercings on display. I've already decided to buy whatever he picks for me whether I like it or not.
I turn my attention back to the tattoos and I slowly walk around. There's plenty to choose from and I am fully aware that Noah won't really be getting a tattoo, but it's fun to look at them and choose one that I would think he'd like. I pass by insects and devils and all that stuff you usually see on guys. There's a huge selection of tribal designs and I pause briefly before continuing on for my search of the perfect tattoo. Noah already had a tribal design around his bicep. I personally wouldn't want to see another one on him.
As soon as I see all the crosses, I slow down and hesitate. I hate anything religious. I hate going to church and I can't stand seeing religious decorations. It's not because I don't believe in God, because I do. My aunt and uncle didn't destroy my faith in Him. I just...didn't like it in my face on a daily basis. However, Noah's cross on his necklace flashes in my mind. His cross meant something to him and I thought it was beautiful that he wore it in honor of his mother. I would never get a cross tattoo on my body, but I could definitely see Noah getting one in remembrance of his mother.
I step closer and begin to scan them. If I were to pick one out for him, it would be...that one. I lean forward and study it intently. It's about two inches long and it's not frilly but it's not simple either. It has a simple, very detailed cross in the middle with a design that interweaves around it. It's beautiful. I reach out and trail my nail over the laminated surface, tracing the cross.
“That for me?” Noah asks from directly behind me.
I start slightly and then turn and smile up at him. “If you were getting a tattoo and allowing me to choose, it would be that one,” I say as I point to the cross.
His eyes follow the direction of my finger and he steps closer, scanning the cross intently. “You have good taste.”
This has me grinning because I'd gotten something right for once. “So, what do you have for me?” I ask as I spot the little plastic slip in his hand.
He turns his attention to the piercing he picked out and carefully lets it slide out of the package and onto his palm. “I like it, but if you don't, I'd prefer you to pick something that's more to your taste.”
I smile when I see the piercing. It's not a ring, it's one of those double piercings and there's a tiny sparkly jewel in the top and a dangling silver flower that looks like a lily for the bottom. I love it.
“Perfect,” I say firmly.
He slips the little jewel back in its packaging and turns serious. “You know, if you've changed your mind, it's okay. You don't have to get a piercing.”
“I've wanted a piercing forever and now that I'm eighteen, it's on my list of things to do,” I assure before I head for the front. When it's my turn to sign up for an appointment, I sign my name and hand the sheet back.
“I'll be adding my name to it as well,” Noah says from behind me.
“What?” I spin around and stare at him.
He smiles slightly at the expression on my face. “I've been thinking about getting another tattoo for a while now, but nothing really caught my eye until tonight.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he muses as he accepts the clip board the tattooed girl behind the counter holds out to him.
We sign papers and show our ID’s. Then Noah pays for both his tattoo and my piercing before I can protest. I'd brought some cash with just in case I saw something I liked if we went shopping and I feel bad he's paying for the entire night so far.
Once everything is in order, we have to wait our turn so we go sit on a couch in the waiting area.
“Where are you having it done?” I ask Noah curiously when his eyes meet mine.
“I haven't figured that out yet. Where would you put it?”
In my mind I envision his naked chest and I can totally see it on a pectoral muscle. Or even on his back shoulder blade. Or even down by his ribs. I could see it anywhere. I glance at Noah and shrug. “It's entirely up to you.”
“You were thinking pretty hard there.”
“I was,” I drawl.
“Imagining my body.”
“Mmhmm.”
Noah chokes back a laugh and I follow the direction of his gaze and see that there's a skinny guy around my age sitting across from us on another couch. He is obviously listening to our conversation with great interest.
I bite back a laugh and turn to face Noah. “You put it where you want,” I say seriously.
“I would anyway, but I was curious where you'd put it if you were me.”
“Nah, you just wanted me to think about your body.”
“That too.”
With a shake of my head, I pick up the little plastic packet that has my jeweled piercing in it and study it until a muscular tattooed guy with a mohawk calls my name. I rise to my feet and glance at Noah. “You want to come with?”
He nods and rises to his feet as well.
We follow the tattooist through a private door and down a hall to a small room. Then he holds out a hand to me. “I'm Moe.”
“Blayre,” I say as we shake hands.
He introduces himself to Noah as well before he motions for me to sit in the chair in the middle of the room. It reclines back and reminds me of a dentist's chair. “So, you want your belly button pierced today,” he says as he holds his hand out for the piercing I'm holding.
I set it in his palm and nod.
“This your first piercing?”
“Yes.”
“I'll explain everything I'll be doing first and if you're still for it, we'll give it a go,” he says.
“Okay.”
I'm not backing out so once he's done explaining the procedure, I give him the go ahead. Noah stands to the side and we watch as Moe sterilizes his equipment and the jewelry. Then he slips on some gloves after reclining my chair so that I am laying on my back. I peer up to Noah and I see he's watching Moe's every move intently. He sees me looking at him and he flashes me a smile that I quickly return. When I pull up my shirt, Moe hesitates when he sees all the bruising on my ribs. His hazel eyes actually narrow and shift to Noah suspiciously.
“It wasn't him and it's been taken care of,” I say simply.
Moe studies me a moment before nodding and returning back to his job. When he cleans my bellybutton with a cold alcohol swab, I squirm a little but then I lay still as he applies some local anesthetic.
My eyes close and I feel Moe use a felt tip marker to mark the in and out spot of the piercing before he gets to work. I feel cool metal—probably the small metal forceps I saw earlier—pinch my skin briefly before there's a slight push and another pinch.
A few minutes later Moe announces I am done and I find the seat reclining back up again. I peer down at my bellybutton and grin widely when I see the little dangling piercing. I love it. After Moe hands me a sheet with the aftercare instructions, he asks if I have further questions.
Next, it is Noah's turn. Moe disappears to make a copy of the tattoo and to take it down by a half inch as Noah requested.
“Where's it going?” I ask with interest.
He sits down in the chair and pulls off his shirt. “Here,” he says, pointing right over his heart.
I try not to ogle his tanned skin and toned abs as I nod in agreement.
Noah's tattoo takes about a half hour and then we are back on the sidewalk, continuing on with our evening. It's still early but I'm not quite sure what I'm in the mood for. Bowling would be okay but it wasn't exactly something I was up for and a movie was out because Noah needed captions or would have to read lips. He wouldn't be able to just kick back and relax because he'd be concentrating too hard on the movie.
As we walk beneath a streetlight, Noah pauses and turns to me. “You want to hit a club?”
My surprise is clearly written all over my face.
“I don't like clubs but I like them when I'm with you.” His eyes roam my face as he watches my reaction.
“Bull. You just want to grind with me,” I can't help but tease.
“Absolutely. If that's the only way I can get close to you
, I'll gladly go back to the club again. Not to mention I noticed how your eyes lit up the last time we went. You thrive on that kind of atmosphere.”
“Aren't you worried Tate will find out?”
“Truthfully, yes. You need to live a little tonight though, so it'll be worth taking the chance. No alcohol,” he warns.
“Yes, Dad.”
He grimaces over my usual teasing over our age difference. “Not funny, Blayre.”
“Sure, it was. C'mon old man,” I say as I lead him in the direction where we'd left the car.
This time around, Noah is more willing when we walk into the club and he even turns down my offer of some 'liquid courage' as I call it. We make our way to the dance floor and we immediately move into each other's arms and dance. I find that it doesn't take as long for Noah to warm up tonight and it feels good to be in his arms. I'd learned that when I'm not near him...I miss him.
I'm falling too hard for him and I'm going to get my heart broken. He'd never intentionally hurt me but there will eventually be something that he won't like and he'll walk away. And when that happens, I won't blame him.
A while later a slow song is playing and I'm pressed against Noah as close as I can get while we dance. For me, it's not nearly close enough but I am not about to step across the boundary I set. He's addicting as it is and to take things that far again would make it all that much harder for me when it ends.
Noah can't hear the music but he sways to the music easily as he pays attention to my every move. I'm feeling content as I rest my head on his shoulder when I spot a familiar face in the crowd.
Cole is on the dance floor as well, about fifteen feet away. He has a pretty blonde in his arms and her tongue is currently down his throat, his hands resting possessively on her ass. Jealousy streaks through my veins and I tense up.
Noah, sensing the change in my body pulls away slightly, probably to peer down at me, but my eyes are focused on the couple making out. Confusion and disgust sweeps through me as I try to untangle the turmoil going on in my head. How can I be jealous? He beat me just a week ago. I should hate him and I swear I do but yet my chest aches at the sight of him in another girl's arms.
Unraveled (Twisted Series) Page 12
