HELPLESS DESIRES FOR MY BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND

Chapter 5

I stick my tongue out at him and head into the bathroom to change. I tie up my hair and wink at myself in the mirror, skipping down the stairs two at a time.

Noah is still stood where I left him, browsing through his phone when I leap into the room.

He coughs when I enter, spluttering, nodding.

"Are you alright?"

"No. I mean - yes. Yeah, sorry. Are you okay?

Are you ready?"

I walked towards him, around him, grabbing Matt's hoodie from over the back of a stool. He stares at me as I do, still drinking the pre-workout.

I slip into it with his wide eyes watching me, pulling my ponytail out of the hood. It's too big, covering my bum easily, and it smells like his car. I see it in his eyes then.

It's not Matt's hoodie. It's his.

I have two options now: double down, or fumble to get it off. If I go with option one it's a power move - I've put on his own hoodie in front of him and there's nothing he can do about it. Option two is obviously the realistic option, so with trembling fingers I reach for the hem at the bottom and start to pull it up.

He reaches out and gently smooths it back down, pursing his lips.

"It's alright," he says quietly.

"I thought it was-"

"I know."

He steps back again so he's an arms length away and picks up his keys from the counter.

I put my hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and smile at him, following him out of the front door and over to his car.

My jaw almost drops in awe when he leans down and opens the passenger side door, signalling into the open space.

"Is this a line too?" I ask, slipping into the leather seat.

He smiles, biting his lower lip.

"I'm just a gentleman."

He closes the door gently and walks around the car, getting into the drivers seat.

Quiet music plays as we drive, I watch the roads we pass.

"So," I turn to him, catching the scent of his aftershave against the neck of his hoodie. I snuggle into it, blinking up at him. "Did you sell your soul for this BMW?"

"No," he laughs. "I bought it second hand and did it up myself."

He runs his hand up the steering wheel, obviously reminiscing over his relationship with the car. I find myself feeling jealous. If only I could just wrap myself around the steering wheel...

"You don't drive?" He asks.

"Paul tried to give me lessons," I sigh. "They didn't go so well."

His lips curve but he says nothing else on the subject so I don't elaborate.

We separate at the gym. I steal glances towards the weightlifting section whenever I can while I do some cardio.

He tips some water back over his face, fingers brushing the liquid through his hair, and I groan and collapse into the stairmaster.

It's only lust. I just have to stop giving into it.

When we return from the gym Matt is lying on the sofa, cuddling a pile of wool.

"Matt!" I hiss, looking at the ball of synthetic fur he's holding. I can feel Noah's presence behind me, hovering, looking.

"I forgot about Smoosh," Matt says, breathing deeply.

Why hasn't the floor swallowed me yet?

"Smoosh?" Noah repeats.

Matt holds the stuffed toy up above his head, turning so it faces us.

Smoosh had been in the family a long time.

He's a tattered-looking stuffed sheep with eyes that look slightly lazy. His eyelids are purple. I don't ever remember getting Smoosh, but Matt continues to tell the story of how he came to be, to embarrass me.

Noah sits on Matt's feet, grinning ear to ear.

"I would love to hold Smoosh," he beams, giving me a look.

I snatch the toy from Matt's hands, holding it to my chest as if it could sink into my body and disappear forever.

"Oh, she's very protective."

"You suck," I point a finger at him and look back at Noah with a sigh. My mouth opens. Closes again.

His eyebrows raise.

I huff and hand him the toy, looking back at the front door. Flirting with the idea of running very far away.

I walk around the couch to sit on the rug in front of them, leaning my head back against the TV. I pull my sleeves over my hands, throwing the hood over my head, and pout at them both.

Matt laughs and Noah smirks at me, leaning back into the sofa and spreading his legs. As if he owns the room.

It dawns on me that the hoodie I'm still wearing is Noah's. I curl into it a little more to smell that musky scent that seems to cling to everything he touches. Subtly, because I don't want either of them to think I'm weird.

"I think Smoosh is cute," Noah utters. His voice is somewhat deeper, just a hint of teasing behind his words. The look is his eyes makes my toes curl.

"Maddie just had to have him," Matt begins. I groan as he launches into the familiar story. "So we were visiting Northshore Beach..."

I listen, smiling softly, as Matt recalls the entire tale from memory.

Eventually, he gets to the punchline, "and then I watched her steal it from that kid."

Noah laughs. "He's stolen?" He tuts and shakes his head. "So you're a bit of a bad girl then, really?"

I feel the blood rush into my face, the throbbing between my legs instant.

Noah smirks, as if he's fully aware that I find him hot. As if he knows exactly what just happened to my body.

"Our dad realised she took him," Matt continues. "But he said as long as we didn't tell mum she could keep him. And so Smoosh was born."

"I'm sure you've given him a long, happy life."

I take the toy from Noah's hand happily, shoving him into the front pocket of the hoodie.

Matt laughs at me but changes the subject, talking about the score of a recent football game and mentioning the highlights. He shoos me away from the TV as he reaches for the remote to pull up a sports channel.

Noah glances at me and I look away, still feeling the heat in my face.

"I'm going to shower," I tell them both. Matt waves me away again, a non-verbal response I became very familiar with in high school.

I feel Noah's eyes follow me as I walk around the couch, avoiding his line of sight. As I round the doorway and take the first step, I hear the patter of his footsteps behind me.

If I ignore him, he'll go away...

I take a few quick steps, pretending like I don't hear him round the corner too. Pretending I don't feel him looking at me from the bottom of the stairs.

The door separating the hallway and the living room clicks shut.

"Madelaine?" He calls.

"Yes?" I squeak, turning to face him. I set my eyes on his chest.

"Look at me," the grin in his voice is infuriating, but I follow the instruction. "I just wanted to say that you don't need to be embarrassed."

And he'd figured bringing it up would be less embarrassing?

For a second, I'm speechless.

"Maybe you should tell me something embarrassing too," tumbles from my lips. He rubs his jaw, still grinning. I take a few steps towards him to let him know that I'm serious. "I think it's only fair."

"Do you?"

I take a seat on the step I'm stood on, stretching my legs out in front of me.

He says, "I'm struggling to see the relation between you and Matt."

Maybe Matt doesn't see you as the sexiest person to have ever graced the Earth.

I say nothing. He sighs, and I watch as my silent treatment technique clicks in his mind.

"Something that would embarrass me... hm. I don't embarrass as easily as you, it seems." I scoff and his smile widens. His pause seems as if it's for dramatic effect. "I cried when Simba's dad died in The Lion King." He groans, clutching his chest, "It's a weight lifted - I'm so glad I could finally tell someone."

His eyes twinkle under the dim hallway light.

I pull my hair out of its ponytail and sink against the bathroom door. I can't live in the same house as this man, he's going to drive me insane.

I try to shake out the image of his messy hair and glossy eyes as he'd looked up at me, waiting for my response to his terrible joke, but it's stuck there at the forefront of my mind.

I huff as I start undressing, seeing how beet-red my cheeks are in the mirror.

I'd been biting the side of the cheek.

"Why have you got to be that hot?" I whisper into the empty room.

Stepping into the empty shower, I let the water run through my hair and over my shoulders as I tip my head back.

His smile is stuck behind my eyes. With his perfect teeth and his tousled just-woke-up hair and his long, muscular legs. f**k him. (I want to f**k him.)

"Christ, Maddie," I groan, and reach between my legs.

This is absurd, I immediately think. I met this person not even twenty four hours ago and I'm already a mess over them. I don't think I've ever been so attracted to someone.

I run my hand from my inner thigh up to the crease of my hip, and collect a pool of water in my palm, dragging it up to my waistline before letting it drop between my open fingers.

I think about the way his jaw clenched yesterday when I'd grabbed his face.

I allow myself, in this moment, to think of him as my hand strokes over one of my breasts, and then the other, before I reach down once more and press my hand against the warmth between my legs.

I lean against the tiled wall. It's freezing compared to the heat still lingering over my body. I can hear their muted voices downstairs, muffled by the doors and the water and the TV they've got a bit too loud. But they're laughing with each other about something or other and it's reassuring that they're not here, in this space upstairs.

I slip a finger between the folds of my s*x and lightly run it down to my entrance, knowing that I'd find it already wet. I'd been soaking ever since he'd f*****g looked at me with that smirk and called me a bad girl.

I release a shaky breath and close my eyes.

I deserve this, I think to myself.

I deserve to think of someone hot and get off, and I am not guilty that Noah Laurier is that someone; despite him being in this house and being my brothers best friend.

Alright, I'm a tad guilty.

But not guilty enough that I don't stop myself from pushing that finger up to my c**t.