Rash Decisions

by Alex Rosa

  Noah’s confidence comes easy, and I wonder how someone is able to get like that. Is it hereditary? Did he have to work at it, or is it this city that did it to him? Lucky for me, his confidence is easy to feed off.

  I squeeze his fingers gently as I gift him a smile. “I’ll go grab my purse.” Letting go, I quickly bound back into my small apartment. I grab for my heather grey scarf, and pull my jacket on before grabbing my purse waiting for me on the kitchen counter.

  When I return, Noah is turned away from the door giving my eyes the opportunity to examine his wide back as I approach.

  Relieved I don’t have to work hard at having grace, I run up to him in my comfy boots, snatching his hand, tugging him toward the stairs as I swing my purse over my shoulder. The sound of my front door shutting echoes in the hallway. It causes a small breeze to waft Noah’s musky cologne into my bubble, and even that turns my center into goo. I try not to falter.

  Speak. Words. I must speak to get my mind back on track.

  “Thanks for taking me out tonight. I’ve been looking forward to it.”

  We take the last flight of stairs quickly and in unison. I turn to get a look at his face and I almost want to tell him to stop smiling so I can stop smiling.

  Apparently too focused on Noah and not paying attention to my surroundings I bump into something. An embarrassing squeak escapes me as realize I’ve run into the pixie-cut blonde from my building. The blonde has just come in from in the cold and the icy gust from outside throws me further off balance, causing my feet to slip from underneath me. Noah catches me from behind, as if he expected it, and who could blame the guy?

  “Déjà vu?” he chuckles as he places me back on my feet, our faces too close for it to be an accident. As much as I like the curve to his lips, I take a step back.

  I’m so distracted with Noah that I forgot about the blonde. This is not how I want out interactions to go. I turn to my left to see that she’s actually staring at me, almost gawking. I have yet to master a NYC glare, but my brows pull together.

  She shakes herself of embarrassment as she darts her eyes between Noah and me, and something flits over her face that I don’t quite understand.

  Noah seems entirely unaffected by it. He’s too busy still staring at me. He does however take notice once she shoves by him to get up the stairs. I almost thought she said excuse me or I’m sorry, but I know with our neighborly track record that it’s doubtful.

  “Yikes,” Noah blurts out. “Who’s she?”

  Did her porcelain skin or glimmering gold gaze go unnoticed? I’m practically living next to a super model. Regardless, I adore his cluelessness. In Southern California I was never this lucky. The beach babes always won by a landslide. This is why I’ve always blossomed in the work place and wilted in my personal life. Not anymore, though. I’m changing that.

  “I have no idea. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to say hello, but as you can see, she isn’t that approachable.”

  He laughs as he grabs for my hand again, pulling me out into the night. “Bake her a cake and knock on her door,” he says, lifting a careless shoulder.

  With him leading the way I can’t see his face, but that tone is unmistakable. “Noah Weston, are you teasing me already? We’re only fifteen minutes into our first date.”

  Rubbing at his thick scruff, he chuckles, “What if I am?”

  I don’t bother answering. It’s obviously a rhetorical question, and I will not openly swoon in front of him via my own admission of, you can tease me anytime.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  Noah doesn’t miss a beat. “It doesn’t matter, does it? This date is just an excuse for me to hang out with you and get to know you.”

  “I guess I can’t argue that.”

  He pauses, waiting for me to step up to his side. He turns to face me, letting go of my hand, and instead snatches my scarf held in my other hand.

  I adjust my jacket, having to look up to get a good look at his face. “Yes?” I hum, feeling oddly comfortable already, trying to hide my giddy snark.

  He tries to hide his smile too, but his stubbly, high cheeks-bones protrude as he wraps my scarf around my neck, looping it into a lazy knot in front, as if taking delicate care with a child. It takes everything in me to keep my hands at my sides.

  “Since you love ruining surprises,” he says. I open my mouth to argue that it wasn’t my intention, but he’s too quick as he raises a goading brow, “I need you bundled from the cold so we can walk Central Park.”

  My eyes widen as I bite down on my bottom lip.

  He grabs for my hand again, leading me down the road. “Have you been to Central Park yet?”

  “No. I’ve only been in town for a few weeks or so. When I got here I just focused on moving myself into an apartment and throwing myself into work.”

  We descend into the subway system, and I concentrate hard on not slipping on the icy, slosh filled steps. “Noah, tell me something about yourself.”

  He hums. I see his eyes glancing up at the signage above our head. He darts to the left, never letting me go, and I wish I could hide my idiotic smile.

  “Other than the fact that I got extremely lucky that I get to date the new girl in town? I hope dates in Central Park are always something you look forward to.”

  My gut flutters. Is he implying we’ll go out again? Get a grip.

  “First of all, I’d always enjoy Central Park because that’s just the kinda girl I am. And secondly, no, I mean, tell me something I don’t know about you. I already know that you’re lucky you get to take me out.”

  He releases a tight huff as we stop on the platform. I watch as Noah’s booted foot taps up and down.

  This time I tug at his arm, feeling more confident. “Are you nervous, Noah?”

  That wry smirk appears as if I’ve just challenged him to a duel.

  “Absolutely not,” he barks.

  A small crowd starts to gather around us on the platform waiting for the same train, and I take a step toward him, causing him to stiffen. “I think you are.” I nod.

  “I have a dog named Chase.”

  I twist my lips, reading his plan of topic-changing like a book. “Excuse me?”

  He boldly brushes a windblown strand away from my face, as if to get a better look at me. “You asked me for a fact about myself.”

  I nod again, knowing now his nerves are not a topic for conversation, but they still make him adorable. Who knew the cute brute could be shy.

  “You’re right, I did. Chase. I like that. Lemme guess, a German Shepherd?” I wink.

  “Jules, did you just make a terrible cop joke?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

  I purse my lips as the only barrier to my giggles. “Yeah, and a very poor cop joke it was. Don’t all cops have German Shepherds?”

  He chuckles as the sounds of the screeching breaks of the train approaching enters the underground, cement fortress. “You watch too much TV. Actually, Chase is a Border Collie, and a sheep herder through and through.” He flashes a pearly white grin. “And he’d be more than happy to herd any unsuspecting girl who’d be willing to give his old man a chance.”

  “Do these oddly obscure, yet slightly cheesy lines work on every girl you take out?”

  We begin crowding onto the train. “First off,” he says, “You’re smiling, aren’t you? Secondly, I don’t get out much.”

  All the seats are taken, and for a Saturday night at seven, the evening is getting off to a busy start. Noah and I are forced to stand at the far end of the train cart in front of an elderly woman, who looks like she could be toying with a nap as her eyes flicker with sleep.

  As people continue to pile in, I begin to feel more like a sardine. The tight space makes me anxious as bodies fill the train. It isn’t until I feel Noah’s arm wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against him while his other arm holds onto the pole beside us for support as the train starts to
move that my body calms.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispers knowingly. I peer up to realize his face is only a couple inches away from mine.

  He smells good. Too good.

  My senses are put into overdrive. I’m clumped together, surrounded by strangers. Noah is wrapped around me in every way; his touch, his smell, and his presence swirl around me. I’m sure I’m the color of a tomato because of it, too. I can’t get over the statuesque lines of Noah’s face, and his careless scruff on his jaw. It’s all so inviting.

  Deep breaths. You barely know the man.

  I’m holding my breath as I look up at him. I’m all hot and bothered, and I know I need to slow things down. This isn’t like me. I don’t become putty in men’s hands, let alone let them put their hands on me.

  “Tell me something about yourself now, Jules.”

  I look at his soft lips, then back to his eyes, and I see it. He feels it. The attraction. At least that look tells me I’m not completely alone, but it does tell me he’s considering the one thing that I can’t let happen, at least not yet. I need to slow down. We can’t go fast, we just can’t. I need time. This life is new to me.

  “I don’t kiss on the first date,” I exhale, and although it seems to sound effortless, my heart is about to spring out of my chest.

  The corner of his mouth twitches. “What a shame,” he replies with the same amount of ease.

  We stumble back up the sidewalk toward my apartment building. Noah leaps ahead, grabbing hold of both my hands as he does, and dramatically pulls me toward him. My feet slide on the snow as I glide into his arms.

  “Noah!” I shriek through my giggles. “Ice skating ended an hour ago!”

  My knees buckle, and of course his strong arms don’t waver under my weight as I try to get back on my feet within his grasp. I grip onto his biceps, which I’ve been using as my source of balance most of the night. Ice-skating was not my idea, but I don’t think I’d change the evening for the world.

  “But you’re so graceful,” he quips.

  My mouth drops in shock as I try to shake myself out of his grasp. I make it out just before I slip again. I don’t think I’m built for the snow, and the evidence to prove it is growing exponentially.

  He tries to catch me again, but I manage to scurry a few steps away. I try desperately to feign anger through my laughter as I turn around to face him, finger in the air, scolding him.

  “You get some sick pleasure from teasing me!” I cross my arms over my chest, and pout in front of the stoop of my building, the light of the streetlamp casting a bubble-like glow around us.

  Noah eyes me like his next meal as he nonchalantly sticks his hands in his jean pockets and struts toward me. The look reminds me of someone, but I can’t place it. However, my lower half surely seems to recognize it and I wish she’d share her secret.

  “Don’t make it so easy for me,” he goads.

  With him nearly in front of me and his warmth emanating off him like an outdoor heater, I try not to allow my brain to get fuzzy.

  “Good night then!”

  Real mature, Julia. There’s no turning back now, and I’m a woman of my sarcastic word. I attempt to fling myself in the opposite direction. Noah has been chasing me all night, and why would I stop him now?

  I turn around on my heels, and I’m about to place my foot on the first step, but Noah is too quick. He grabs my waist, spinning me around, and places me back in front of him as if I’m a featherweight.

  “Noah!” I squeal, fighting off his grip with no luck.

  “Good night? That’s all I get?” he asks.

  I lick over my bottom lip. “Yep!” I huff. “I’d hate to give you more material for your comedy routine.” The corners of my mouth are giving me away, and Noah knows it. I can see it in his eyes. Damn him. That glimmer though. All night it’s been taunting me, and I can’t figure out why.

  “What if what I find funny is also what I find cute?”

  I tilt my head to the side, knowing that I don’t stand a chance with this man.

  “Well, maybe you should switch your game plan up, and instead of teasing me, you could try telling me what you find cute.”

  “What a demanding thing you are,” he jokes. “Well Jules, I find everything about you cute, that’s maybe why I tease you so much.”

  His face stays stoic and I question his seriousness.

  I release a potentially inappropriate giggle. “Noah, you’re so ridiculous. Are you going to call me?”

  He lets out a chortle of laughter as he eyes me like I just grew another limb. “You aren’t gonna make this easy for a guy, are you? You don’t want to be teased, my compliments aren’t enough, and now you’re abruptly ending our date?”

  I question what his words mean. I’ve been in a foggy mess all week, and this night is included.

  However, I’d have to admit I prefer this hazy feeling the most. Wandering blind through this cloud is exciting, but I think I’ve lost my bearings with Noah, and I can’t decide whether that’s what I want, or it’s what I need. Maybe neither. How was I in California again? I can barely remember my own name right now.

  Damn you Noah. Damn your hotness to hell.

  I notice his hands are still resting securely on my hips, holding me in place in front of him.

  “Are you going to let me go?”

  For once he doesn’t speak, but what amazes me more is that his eyes do enough of the talking for him. His lips press together firmly as the corner of his mouth rises, while his eyes say, “fat chance.”

  I wrinkle my nose, fighting the urge to be a brutally honest, dumb girl, and tell him exactly how annoyingly charming he is. I could seriously scream it into his face knowing that it’ll ease my nerves to let it out. Lucky for me, my dignity overrides my stupidity, and I attempt to mirror his look.

  He finally releases a slow exhale, breaking his stare to allow his eyes to dart all over my face.

  “Are you seriously going to ruin the last surprise I have planned?”

  I shake my head, and the dam bursts. “Noah!” I like saying his name. “Stop being so … so …” and I lose my breath as I try to control my smile.

  He scrunches his brows together. “I can’t tell if taking you to the top of your building is a good idea or not now?”

  “No one has been this nice to me since I put foot in this state. Actually, I don’t know if anyone has ever been this nice to me. Period.”

  “What about the ex-boyfriend?”

  I flinch. I didn’t mean to mention my ex, Tyler, this evening, but it’s hard not to mention the person who has been involved with you most of your life when you’re asked about growing up on the West Coast.

  I remember the moment, too. It was when Noah held my hand while we took laps around the ice skating rink. It was the only thing that made him literally stumble. He asked me how I spent my time back home, and out it came. I told him I spent early mornings on the beach while Tyler surfed. A few misplaced ice-skating footsteps later, Noah recovered, and promptly dropped the subject. He didn’t poke or prod, but one thing is for sure, and this moment confirms it, Noah Weston, prince charming, gets jealous.

  I hate that I love it.

  He shakes it off before I can figure out an answer. “It doesn’t matter. Follow me.”

  Noah shifts like an excited teen, snatching my hand, and pulling me through my own apartment building doors, and points to the elevator.

  “We’re going up.” He says.

  The doors spring open in time for our entry as an elderly couple emerges.

  “S’cuse me, ma’am,” Noah says as he scoots past the woman, and I swear I’m going to make it my mission to find a fault in this man. Noah wouldn’t fit in Southern California, but sometimes he barely fits in here. Maybe it’s the era of time, or maybe I’m thinking of a place that doesn’t exist at all. If it wasn’t for his roguish physique, his periodic New York twang, and perfected city street glare,
I might picture him in a shining suit of armor atop a noble steed.

  I really need to stop reading romance novels when I’m lonely.

  The woman smiles sweetly, and even at a likely eighty-years-old, her cheeks pink when she catches sight of him.

  I sigh as the doors to the elevator shut, confining us in the tiny space.

  “Did you grow up here?” I ask.

  He brushes his thumb over my knuckles. “Yes. Born and bred.”

  “Hm.” I nod.

  “Why?”

  “Sometimes, I don’t think you fit in here.”

  He lets out a high whistle. “Remind me to change your mind about this city.”

  “Sorry.” I find myself squeezing his large hand that encases my small one. “I just have this huge jerk as a coworker, and he’s put such a bad taste in my mouth. I shouldn’t let him dictate how this city makes me feel. I guess it’s home now.”

  “Don’t let one asshole ruin it for you. Don’t get me wrong, you gotta have thick skin to live here, and this city can be like a hard drink of liquor. You just gotta close your eyes and swallow it whole. But don’t sell yourself short. I know you’ve got some fighting power in you. I’ve seen it.” He raises his eyebrows, sparking my smile. “Maybe this city hasn’t seen what’s coming yet.”

  I can’t help but think, Troy doesn’t know what’s coming, but thinking of him now sends my insides into implosion mode. I can’t tell if it’s out of anger, frustration, or guilt. I will not think of Troy Dillinger right now. No way.

  “Maybe,” I hum.

  “Plus, I’m this way because my Dad taught me manners, and he taught me to treat a woman right.”

  “Is that so?”

  Noah leans in, getting dangerously close for the umpteenth time tonight, tempting me again. I savor it for a few more seconds until I’m saved by the bell. The elevator doors spring open.

  I’m trying to gather my hormones that have spilled all over the floor. I turn on my heels to I escape him, and his knowing smile, and heavy eyes tell me he knows exactly what I’m doing.