Chapter 4
1497 Words
There's an incessant buzzing in my ear. I want to swat it away like an annoying fly, but it gets louder and louder and -
Wait a second.
"What?" I feel myself groan, turning over and pulling the blankets up higher.
"Get up, we're going out for breakfast." Matt's voice penetrates my ears, so I continue to groan at him. "Unless you don't want a greasy sausage and egg McMuffin right now? With an extra hash brown?"
I pull one of the blankets from my face, squinting at the sunlight that comes through the window. Matt and Noah stand side by side against the counter in the kitchen, eyeing me.
I automatically feel a blush rise through my cheeks as I meet Noah's eye. He looks down at the couch I'm splayed across, and I follow his line of sight to one of my legs, exposed in the open, looking smooth and lanky and just as pale as ever in the sunlight.
I pull myself into a seated position, tipping my head back and stretching my arms up above me.
"This couch is not comfortable, Matt, for the record."
He snorts and tells me to get ready again. Both he and Noah look away as I stand up, talking with each other quietly as I scramble around my various bags and collect together a passable outfit for a lazy Sunday.
I go upstairs to change, take my hair out of the plaits I'd put in the night before and let it fall around my shoulders. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I try to see myself through Noah's eyes. I wonder if he'd like my pale skin, my long ginger hair that I'd gotten from my mother - wondered if I'd compliment his tanned bad boy look if I hung off his arm while we ran errands.
"I have it bad," I speak to myself.
As I'm brushing my teeth, I'm hoping he's an asshole. I hope his personality is a huge turn off, but that killer smile last night is telling me otherwise. Matt wouldn't befriend someone who was an asshole to his sister, it's not in his nature.
"Are you ready?" Matt shouts from the bottom of the stairs.
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and make my way downstairs. Noah is stood against the front door, fiddling with his keys.
"I'm driving," he says.
"Shotgun." I reply, and the grin that spreads across his face makes me giddy.
Matt is gutted I've already called shotgun once we get through the door, accepting it like a child, whining about being pushed aside by his best friend as he gets into the back seat.
I slip back into the leather of the passenger seat, breathing in the musky scent of the car that I hadn't fully appreciated the day before.
Noah's almost too big for the car, his seat lies all the way back to accommodate the length of his legs, but he gets in comfortably, immediately making a fist around the gear-stick as he presses the key into the ignition.
"Jesus Christ," I whisper to myself, staring at the size of his hand around the stick; the faded clock tattoo staring back at me.
How does someone look that good doing something as monotonous as driving?
My brother is kicking the back of my chair, still moaning about being in the backseat as I meet Noah's eyes again.
He smiles at me, putting an arm around the back of my chair and twisting his body to start reversing out of the driveway. I allow myself to look back at his flexed arm once and swallow heavily.
"How was your date, Matt?" I force myself to ask.
"Give me the front seat and I'll tell you," he leans between the seats as Noah drives down the road. "Homewrecker."
"Is that why mum's never met Noah?
Because he's your boyfriend?" I ask. Noah's laugh is deep. I part my hair at the back and pull it over my shoulders, smiling.
"I should definitely get to meet your mum," Noah grins.
Matt reaches forward to hit his shoulder. I watch Noah expertly drop the gears down as we drive through a roundabout and pull into the drive-through.
When our order is in and we've driven through to pay and collect our food, Noah taps his card against the machine and hands me the greasy looking bag, looking as happy as he has all morning.
I notice how unruly his hair when we start driving again because he's left his window open and it's blowing in every direction. It's curly and messy and I'd put money on my fingers getting tangled in it if I tried to thread them through.
Some strands of his hair are even a little bit golden in the sun.
"You're staring again," he says quietly, in that soft raspy voice I'd first heard last night. He glances back at me, a smile tugging at his lips, and looks back at the road when I look away.
We pull into a nearby car park as I whisper back, "I think you're just trying to embarrass me."
"I'm stating facts."
We pull over. Matt snatches the food from my lap like he hasn't eaten in days, practically throwing the bag back to the front once he's got what he wants.
Noah hands me my McMuffin, and I begin eating as he does.
"I'm surprised you don't care about getting crumbs in your car."
He grins into the wrapper, "I do." He states, eyes twinkling. "But I'm not completely neurotic."
"That's a big word for a mechanic," I tease.
"Madelaine!" Matt raises his voice, the word muffled through the food in his mouth. I'd forgotten he was there, honestly. "Noah is very smart, aren't you sweetheart?" He leans forward to stroke Noah's face, the two of them sharing a look before Noah slaps him away.
Noah then stares me down, repeating, "I'm very smart, Madelaine."
A shiver runs over me and my mouth fills with saliva. My name out of his mouth sounds... too good. So good that I instantly wish I could get more air because my body suddenly feels like he's reached over and tightened my joints like they're on springs.
His jaw ticks. All the moisture in my body floods south.
I fold my arms over my chest and his eyes follow the movement, down to where I've pressed my breasts up against my t-shirt.
I continue eating despite being hungry for something else entirely and he turns up the volume of the quiet music playing in the car.
"Have you figured out how you're going to get to work yet?" Matt asks.
"What?" I croak, repeating myself after clearing my throat.
"Work?" He asks. "You're not exactly within walking distance anymore, Maddie."
"Oh," the realisation dawns on me. "Oh f**k -yeah - work. Uh, I'll get the bus or something. It's only a few weeks."
"I could drive you, if you wanted." Noah offers politely.
"I really couldn't-"
"Isn't Noah great?" Matt smiles. "You're a star, man."
Noah is great. He's too great. He's I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off great, which is not what I think my brother means, but it's what I'm thinking once he's said it.
It's only lust though. And lust, I can control.
Noah and Matt disappear into their rooms when we get home so I get out my work laptop and lazily prepare for the week ahead while a music channel fills the room with noise.
A few hours have passed when one of them appears again. It's Noah, wearing a fitted cotton shirt and workout shorts. His legs are filled with tattoos too and as muscular as I'd expected them to be.
My mouth waters.
"The more of your skin I see, the more I think you have a tattoo addiction."
His head tilts back with his smile. He rolls his neck to look back at me as I peer over the couch.
"You wanna see some more?"
Two of his fingers loop under the bottom of his shirt.
"Oh," I realise instantly. "So you're a player?"
"What?" His voice is high. "No!"
A blush creeps up his chest, his neck turning redder by the second.
He huffs and walks into the kitchen, shaking up some pre-workout and leaning against the counter, looking at the TV as he drinks it.
I look him up and down again, biting my lip.
"Do you wanna come to the gym with me?" He asks suddenly.
I look at him, at his body, again. I imagine his arms flexing as he lifts weights and watching him bend over doing squats, and nod my head - not trusting my mouth to say anything that isn't perverted.
I'm going to need a very cute gym outfit.
It takes five minutes of destroying my neatly packed bags and Noah laughing at me to find my gym shorts and the matching sports bra to accompany them.
- Writer
