Treat You Better (The Family Stone Book 3)

by Brooke St. James

  "You okay?" Vi asked leaning over to pat my back.

  I nodded. "Yep." I said. "Fine."

  Blue stretched. "I'm tired," she said. "I was up early."

  "I'm tired too," Vi agreed. She looked at me before reaching out to touch my arm. "I'm so glad you're doing this," she said. "It's fun to go watch you sing and get to hang out with my sisters afterward. Your act is so much fun. I never dreamed my little sister would be up on stage doing something like that."

  "I did," Blue said. "She used to make me sit and watch her while she sang that song from Chicago over and over."

  That statement made me laugh as I remembered doing that. Vi shook her finger at Blue, nodding. "Oh yeah, I remember her doing that song. She used to sing Bette Davis Eyes, too, remember?"

  The three of us girls cracked up. It had been years since I had thought about singing that song, and it struck me as funny.

  "She loved that one," Blue said, laughing. "I remember watching her sing it thinking she was the coolest girl ever."

  I shook my head, still grinning at the memory of how into it I was. I recalled making Blue sit and watch me sing. "I love that you thought I was cool," I said. "I'm gonna have to start practicing that one again."

  "I really enjoyed the show," Taylor said. "Vi's right. It's really fun to go watch you. When's your next gig?"

  "In a month," I said. "Collin wanted to book one between now and then, but I think I'd prefer just doing something monthly, for now."

  We had already settled the tab, so everyone began standing and gathering their things as we talked. The restaurant was slow since it was late, and there were almost no other customers when we left. We walked out as a group, the six of us heading toward the parking lot and continuing our conversation the whole time.

  We gave each other hugs and exchanged goodbyes once we made it to our vehicles. I loved how Noah got along so well with all of them. It made it so much easier on me that they all liked him and everyone conversed so effortlessly. I watched as he hugged my sisters and shook hands with Taylor and Drake.

  We split up into pairs in the parking lot, all of us getting into respective vehicles.

  "Did you want to drive?" I asked.

  "I don't mind driving," Noah said. "Would you like me to?"

  "I mean, sure. That way you won't have to tell me how to get to your house."

  "Of course," he said. "I'll drive."

  He held out his hand for the key, but I just shook my head and gestured at the car. "It's keyless," I said.

  We were standing behind the car when we decided to switch places. I went toward the passenger's side, and I expected Noah to go the opposite way, but instead, he followed me.

  "I thought we just said you were gonna drive," I said, tilting my head at him.

  He smiled. "I am. I'm coming over here to open your door."

  The gesture was so chivalrous—so manly, that I didn't know how to react. Kai had literally never opened a car door for me. I felt stiff and a bit like I wanted to giggle, or cry, or both. I held it all in, smiling at him.

  "Thank you," I said as he let me in.

  "You're welcome," he answered, his eyes meeting mine.

  I tried to regulate my breathing as Noah walked around the car and got into the driver's side.

  "Do you mind if I adjust your seat a little?" he asked, once he sat down.

  "Not at all. Do whatever you need to do."

  He reached down, and before I knew it, the seat was sliding backwards.

  "Ready?" he asked.

  I nodded. He put his finger over the button, but he didn't start the car. "Are you sure you don't mind if I drive to my house? I can take you to your mom's and call a cab from there if you want to get back."

  "No," I said. "Not at all. I'm kind of still amped from the show. The drive will give me time to wind down."

  I asked Noah where he lived, and we figured out that his apartment was only about ten minutes from my parents' place. He explained that he had been living in the same apartment for the last five years. He had started his business there right after he moved in, but it grew quickly, so a few years ago, he began renting studio space. He said he spent almost as much time at his studio as he did in his apartment and that he had often considered moving somewhere bigger so that he had room for his studio at home.

  We talked about these sorts of things on the way to his house.

  Neither of us mentioned the blatant hand-holding that took place at the restaurant.

  Noah rested his hand on the console as he drove.

  It was ripe for the picking, just sitting there, ready for me to reach out and touch, but I didn't do it. I couldn’t make myself. I glanced at it what must have been fifty times, wishing so badly that I could work up the nerve to reach out and touch him. I was buzzing with anticipation, but it just never seemed like the right moment to do it. We talked the whole time he drove and reaching for his hand in the middle of our conversation just felt awkward.

  "I like how you think," I said after a pause in conversation.

  He glanced at me with a sideways smile. "How do you know what I'm thinking? You might not say you like it if you knew what was going on in my mind right now."

  "I didn't mean I knew what you were thinking right now. I just meant I like the way you think in general. I was thinking about that funeral home story you told me, and the one about the dogs. Then I heard you tell Blue about that trip to San Diego when you were a kid. I just like how you think. I think it's cool how your brain works."

  He grinned at me. "Thank you," he said with a humble nod. "Nobody's ever told me that before."

  "I can't believe it," I said. "It's like one of the first things I notice when I talk to you."

  "You notice the way my brain works?" he asked.

  "Yeah. The way you think."

  He smiled, glancing at me again. "I like the way you think, too, Indie."

  "You don't have to say that just because—"

  "No, no, it's true. I do. I really mean it. You're an amazing person to be around. I like how you're sarcastic enough that even your sisters don't know if you're serious sometimes."

  I laughed. "They think they always know," I said.

  My hand was resting on my leg, and Noah reached for it. I had to hold in a gasp. My hand was cold and he rested his warm hand on it, curling his fingers around the edge of my hand. My fingers twitched just a little as I turned it ever so slightly.

  I felt out-of-my-mind with nerves.

  It was like I was back at square one—like it was the first time I had ever held a man's hand in my whole life. My body felt alive with warm, tingly sensations, and I glanced down at the spot on the edge of my leg where our hands connected. It was just two hands—one over the other, but the sight of it made my heart feel full.

  "I am so glad I came out tonight," Noah said as he drove.

  "I'm so glad you came, too," I said. "Even if it took an anonymous email and a prophetic vision to get you there."

  He laughed at me for saying that, and in the process, he took a tighter hold of my hand. "You sent me that email," he said, nudging his chin at me like he had me all figured out.

  "N-no, I didn't. I promise." My words came out breathlessly. I was so shaken up about defending myself that it was on the tip of my tongue to say that I suspected it was my mother, but I kept it inside.

  Noah glanced at me, this time he was wearing an irresistible, slightly sad smirk. "I wish it was you," he said.

  Chapter 11

  How could Noah hold my hand and say things like, "I wish it was you," and expect me to carry on a conversation—or even think straight for that matter.

  "I'm just not that brave," I said, in regards to being the one who sent that email. I didn't know what else to say.

  We came to a stop in front of a nice building and I peered out of the window, looking up at it and assuming this was his apartment building.

  "What's bravery got to do with it?" he asked. He was still holding my hand but he
let go so that he could put the car in gear.

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "You said you weren't brave enough to tell me."

  "I'm not. I don't tell people about Fiona. I don't even tell people I'm not trying to impress."

  Noah made a thoughtful expression. He tilted his head as he stared at the dash, considering something as he pushed the button to turn off the ignition. "I'm not a hundred percent, but I think maybe you just said you were trying to impress me."

  He glanced at me with his hair hanging over his forehead and his honey colored eyes regarding me curiously. I had no idea how I was going to get words to come out of my mouth. The air between us was charged.

  "I did say that," I said.

  Noah slowly scanned my face, causing my gut to clinch. I tried my best to remain calm. We just sat there and looked at each other for what must have been half-a-minute. It was a fairly busy street, so there was a little noise from traffic, but he and I were quiet. My windows were darkly tented, so there wasn't much light coming into my car.

  "May I whisper something in your ear?" he asked.

  I did not anticipate that question, so my expression was somewhat confused when I said, "Sure." My answer might have come out more uncertain than I intended.

  He smiled at me. "You sure?" he asked.

  I nodded. I adjusted in my seat, and so did he before we both leaned toward the middle, slowly coming together over the console. Noah held still when his mouth came close to my ear. There was an inch or two of space between us, but I could almost feel the warmth of his breath. I expected him to say something right away, but he just stayed there, breathing silently, thinking. I could barely breathe at all.

  "I'm going to make something up right now," he said, finally.

  I turned just slightly so that I could glance at him. "Why would you do that?"

  He leaned in—a little closer this time. "I don't have anything to say," he said. "I just wanted to be right here." His mouth was close to my ear when he spoke, and the warmth of his breath combined with the thrill I felt from words sent chills through my whole body. My arms were instantly covered in goosebumps. I took an unsteady, gasping, shuddering breath.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, his mouth still tortuously close to my ear.

  "Yes," I said, turning and stretching a little so I could whisper in his ear as well. I saw is chest rise and fall from the corner of my eyes, and I smiled. "I can't believe you lied, though."

  "When?"

  "When you said you had something to tell me."

  We didn’t look at each other's faces as we spoke—we just kept our mouths near each other's ear.

  "I never said I had something to tell you. I just said I wanted to whisper something in your ear."

  "Oh, yeah, but isn't that the same thing? I mean now we're just here, whispering about whispering about nothing."

  "I'm pretty much fine with what we're doing right now," he said.

  "You mean just talking like this instead of at a normal tone?" I asked.

  "It's not the tone I'm enjoying. It's the proximity. I really like the atmosphere over here."

  I smiled. It caused my face to flex, making my cheek just barely graze his.

  Noah leaned a little closer to me, causing our cheeks to touch with more intention. I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff. I wasn't sure if I wanted to jump, but I was about to be pushed off anyway. There was nothing I could do to stop myself from touching him. I carefully reached up and placed my hand on the other side of his face, letting my fingertips gently lace through his hair. I couldn't see his reaction, but I felt his chest move as he took a deep breath. I leaned in even closer to whisper in his ear again.

  "I kind of like my geographic location at the moment, too."

  "I really can't believe I almost didn't go to that show tonight."

  "That would have been the worst thing ever," I said.

  "You're right, it would have been. So, you're going to have to tell me next time."

  "Next time will be a month from now," I said. "I won't be at school—and neither will you."

  "Oh, well, I guess we'll just never, ever see each other again after next week. That's too bad."

  I could easily tell he was being sarcastic, and it made me grin. My hand involuntarily flexed, and I gently scratched the hair above his ear.

  "I was messing around with you," he said, when I didn't say anything right away.

  "I know," I said.

  "So, can I have your phone number?" he asked.

  "Yes. But should we act like this never happened when we go back to school? I mean, it's just a week. We could probably just pretend, you know, no numbers or whispers were exchanged."

  "You wanna just act like we never kissed?"

  I felt a gut-wrenching wave of desire and anticipation when he said that. My chest felt like it was going to collapse. I took a deep breath.

  "We didn't kiss," I said.

  "Yeah, we did."

  "Uh, no we really didn't. I think I would remember."

  "Oh, we definitely did," he said. "It was in your car. You know, when you dropped me off after we ate dinner?"

  "Was it when you tricked me by saying you needed to tell me something and then didn’t have anything to say?"

  "Yes, it was. I'm glad you finally remember. But, for the record, I just said I wanted to whisper in your ear. I never said I had something to say."

  "We did that for like five minutes," I said, still speaking like this whole incident was in the past. "We just sat there and whispered to each other."

  "I know," he said. "And then you kissed me."

  "I kissed you?" I asked, laughing and pulling back just a little in surprise.

  "Yep," he said. "We were just sitting there, talking about you kissing me, and all of a sudden, you did it."

  I shook my head. "I'm getting déjà vu."

  "Just kiss me, and we'll go back to reality again."

  His suggestion was so matter-of-fact that I smiled.

  "Oh, so that will solve everything?"

  "Yes, it will. And, no, I won't tell your friends at school that you sang soul music to me, then took me to dinner, then whispered in my ear a bunch, and then kissed me unprovoked."

  "Don't you dare say this was unprovoked. This was so provoked."

  "I'm unashamedly provoking you right now."

  He pulled back just far enough to bring his lips halfway to mine. I pulled back even further. It was dark in my car, but my eyes had adjusted. I could clearly see gorgeous shape of his face. I took in every curve of his mouth.

  "What did you say?" I asked.

  He gave me a barely-there grin. "I said for you to kiss me."

  My hand was still lightly resting on the side of his face, and I moved it downward, letting my palm cup his jaw. My fingertips felt alive—my whole body did. I had no idea what we had been talking about. All I could see was his perfect, handsome face. It was as if there were magnets pulling my mouth to his. I just uncontrollably drifted toward him. Maybe he came toward me at the same time. All I knew was that one minute we weren't kissing, and the next, we were.

  We touched gently at first, and then we pulled back just a little, smiling at the newness of it all. We were already adjusted in our seats so that we comfortably and easily converged over the console.

  He kissed me again and then did it a second, third, and fourth time. Each kiss got a little longer and more tender. Noah's kiss stirred feelings and emotions I hadn't experienced in a long time—it also stirred overwhelming physical sensations. I had the distinct feeling that I was freefalling. My body was alive with excitement.

  Noah pulled back to look at me. He didn't have much facial hair, and what he did have was trimmed short, but I could see, even in the dark, the way it grew along his upper lip. I was whole-heartedly smitten with how he looked. I loved the shapes of his face and the way it moved when he talked and smiled. There was a sweet boyishness to his face, but he was all man.

  "You are ab
solutely beautiful, Indie Stone. Your face is a work of art."

  "Stop," I said, glancing downward and feeling truly shy.

  He used his finger to tilt my chin upward. He was wearing an easy grin. "Don't worry," he said. "I won't tell your friends at school."

  "Tell them what?"

  "That I think you're the most beautiful girl there, or that you kissed me a bunch of times when you brought me home that night?"

  I smiled. "This night," I said.

  I leaned toward him and placed a kiss next to his mouth.

  That made him pull back and stare at me from the corners of his eyes with a half-smile.

  "What? You said I did it a bunch of times. I thought that was basically an invitation to do it again."

  "It was," he said. "Now you should invite me."

  "I don't know if I can be as slick as you with it," I said.

  "You don't have to be slick. All you have to do is say you would like for me to—"

  "Please kiss me, Noah."

  He leaned in, letting his lips touch mine ever so softly before pulling away.

  "Again," I said, breathlessly.

  He obliged, letting his lips rest on mine a little longer the second time. My hand had been resting on his face for the longest time, but I let it fall onto his shoulder. There was something different about holding onto a cheek rather than a shoulder. Noah was a trim but muscular guy, and I could feel the ridges of his shoulder muscles through his shirt. I was out-of-my-mind with desire.

  "Again, please," I said. But this time, I had my fingers wrapped around his upper-arm, and I shamelessly pulled him to me when his lips fell onto mine. I wanted him to kiss me deeper. I hoped, this time, he would not pull away so quickly.

  Noah was a perfect gentleman. He responded to me readily, but he still used caution and discipline. He parted his lips, taking my upper lip into his mouth just barely, as if tasting it before letting it go. He did it to me again, and this time, I responded by doing the same thing to him.

  He leaned back and stared at me after that. "You better watch yourself, or you're gonna make me slip in front of your friends next week."

  "What does one have to do with the other?" I asked.