The invisible force occupies every sphere of my brain and permeates throughout my entire body. There has never been a time in my life that it didn’t hold me hostage. By the time I was able to fuse coherent thoughts together, it was too late and I didn’t know where the exit was to escape.
If I could see it, touch it, reason with it maybe I would have a chance to survive it. Instead I only feel it and hear it. It’s message a constant in my life. Where did it come from? Why did it pick me? It seeped into my life so slowly I never saw it take over before it consumed me.
(And that my friend is what they call f*cked up thinking.)
When I first woke up, it took me several minutes to figure out where the hell I was. My head felt like a chainsaw was slicing into it. My hair even hurt. I was barely able to lift this throbbing orb off the pillow. Slowly, images of last night came into focus.
I remember being at the party. Noah and Brad got into a fight. I got uber-drunk. Brad had his hands all over me. Noah brought me home. I threw myself at him. I still had this weird feeling that some other horrible thing had happened. I kept running last night over in my head, trying to put things in some sort of sequence, Brad kissed me, and then the guys fought. I vaguely remember going up the stairs. Then my fuzzy brain started to clear and all the pieces fell into place. HOLY SHIT! I caught Noah and Brittani having sex!
I felt a cold shiver run up my entire body. My throat started to burn and a bitter taste invaded my mouth. I slapped my hand over my mouth and slid from Noah’s bed, trying not to wake him. I made a mad quiet dash to the bathroom, getting there in the nick of time. I was astonished at how much whatever was coming out of me. It was like the freaking Exorcist.
I laid on the floor of the bathroom, pressing my cheek to the cool tile. It felt incredible. I could stay there all day. I was pretty sure I woke Noah up. I knew any minute there would be a knock on the door wanting to know if I was okay. I dreaded it. I knew the tequila shots Brad and I did were mostly to blame for my breakfast of acid chowder, but the memory of seeing Noah coming out of that room with her right behind him definitely helped push the contents of my stomach up and out.
I needed to get up. If I had laid there any longer, I would have fallen asleep. I placed my arm on the side of the bathtub to steady myself as I tried to get up off the floor. It took three attempts, but I finally made it up and over to the sink. I rinsed my mouth out several times. God, I was so thirsty I felt like I could suck down an ocean of water. I washed my face and ran my fingers through my hair, gently, before heading back to Noah’s room to grab my clothes. I just wanted to get my stuff and get out of there. I couldn’t face him right now. I was ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated.
I hadn’t heard any noise in his room, so by some miracle he was either still asleep or possibly in his parent’s bathroom taking a shower. The thought of a naked wet Noah flashed across my mind. I had to get out of there.
I opened the door to his bedroom as quietly as possible. By some miracle, he was still asleep. I could hear the pounding of my heart in my ears as I crept into the room. My shirt and jeans were on the floor at the foot of the bed where they had been tossed the night before. Slowly I walked over, bent down, and picked them up. I scanned the room for the rest of my things. My flip-flops were on Noah’s side of the bed. I decided to leave them and get them later. I wanted to make as quick a retreat as possible.
I scanned the room one more time. A wave of panic swept over me. The tingling started in the center of my chest and quickly spread to the rest of my body. My heart and lungs were working at warped speed. My eyes doubled in size. I closed them for a second trying to calm myself. Maybe I didn’t see what I thought I saw. Opening my eyes slowly, I looked in the same direction and cringed. Yep, I saw it. My purple lace bra had been tossed on the lamp that sat on Noah’s dresser. It was just hanging there, taunting me.
I tiptoed over to the dresser, and studied the bra for a moment, trying to figure out how best to free it. Somehow it had gotten tangled around the lamp. One of the straps had fallen, draping half the bra over the inside of the shade, wrapping it around the base, and hooked itself around the switch. How the hell did that happen? I thought about leaving it, but this situation was humiliating enough without having to ask for my underwear back.
I unhooked the strap from the switch with no problem. I carefully started untangling the bra and pulling it up. I thought I was in the clear, so to end the agony I yanked on the bra. Somehow a piece of the lace snagged on something causing the lamp to tip over. I caught it just before it hit the floor, but it still made a loud scraping sound. I held my breath and looked over my shoulder to check on Noah. I knew there was no way he slept through that. I watched for a few seconds. His breathing was still even and he hadn’t moved.
I started to unsnag the lace when a deep throaty voice startled me. I froze. “Leave it. I like having your pretty little lacey things scattered around my room.” I inhaled a big gulp of air. “And how is my Tweet feeling this morning?”
I knew he was smirking at me. He was enjoying my discomfort from the tequila and standing there with my underwear in hand. The bastard. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t want him to see the humiliation on my face. Plus, I had a little bit of vomit on the front of his t-shirt I was wearing. Looking at myself in the mirror it dawned on me that he had a clear, unobstructed view of my face and had seen my humiliation.
I started to talk, but the words caught in my throat at first. Trying to sound chipper, I said, “Great. I’m going home to shower and wash my hair.” My voice sounded as if I were a four pack a day smoker.
Noah got out of bed and walked up behind me, placing his hands on my hips. We looked at each other in the mirror. Damn, he looked hot standing there in his low hung pajama pants and well- worn grey t-shirt that covered his amazing toned and chiseled torso.
He lowered his mouth to my ear and said in a husky voice, “Don’t go. You can shower here.”
He took a small step back and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it back on to the bed. There it was, that gorgeous chest I wanted to crawl up and down on. Noah continued, snapping me back to the present. “I’m going to go jump in the shower and then I’ll make you some toast. It will help your stomach.” He kissed the top of my head. Glancing down at his shirt I was wearing, splattered with the contents of my stomach, he said, “You can keep the shirt.” I shifted my gaze down as the blush crept over my face. He then smiled at me, followed by a smack on my ass before leaving the room.
HE SMACKED MY ASS AND I LIKED IT!
I definitely had to get out of there.
I waited until I heard the shower turn on before I made my escape. I knew I was going to have to deal with this, but I couldn’t right now. My head was swimming, my stomach was queasy, and my thoughts were all over the place. Not to mention, I felt icky and needed a shower. I quickly put my jeans on over Noah’s boxers, slipped on my shoes, and made a beeline for the door.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I got home. Not only did I make it back here before Noah got out of the shower, but when I checked my phone, I saw I had a voicemail from Mom. They were staying in Myrtle Beach one more night and would be back late tomorrow. I’d have today and tomorrow to fully recover.
I had just enough time to take a shower and wash my hair before I heard him. Noah was in the house yelling my name. “TWEET!” He sounded beyond pissed at me for leaving.
I quickly stepped out of the shower and wrapped a big towel around me. I had started towel drying my hair when the bathroom door swung open. I spun around to see Noah glaring at me, supporting himself with one hand on the doorframe and the other gripping the doorknob tightly.
He leaned in and growled, “You and me are talking. Now!”
“Can I at least put some clothes on?”
“No. You have about ten seconds to get your sweet little ass out here.” He abruptly turned and stomped away, leaving the door wide open.
I dried my hair as best I could and left it loose. Butterflies had taken over my stomach. I lowered my gaze with each step I took as I timidly walked down the hall to the family room. I had no idea what either of us was going to say. I reached the family room. Biting my lip, I looked up, but didn’t see Noah. A sense of relief hit me. Maybe he had changed his mind and left to calm down before we talked. Then I heard him clear his throat. He was in the kitchen leaning up against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a pair of dark blue basketball shorts, a sleeveless orange t-shirt, and he was barefoot. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower. Even with the scowl across his face, he was the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep me from running and wrapping my arms and legs around him.
I walked into the room and stood on the other side of the kitchen island. I thought keeping a little distance between us was a good idea.
Neither one of us said anything at first. When he looked up at me, his eyes softened a little. I clutched the towel tightly around me. Noah’s gaze started slowly gliding down the length of my body as his tongue darted out slightly, licking his lower lips. My breath started to quicken. The warm tingling sensation that I got whenever I was near him started to take over. I finally broke our eye contact, looking away, and nervously started biting my thumbnail. When I glanced back, the intensity had returned to his eyes and the scowl back to his face. His tone was strong and determined when he said, “Talk.”
“About what?” I looked up at him with innocent eyes, as I continued to gnaw on my nail.
He let out a low deep growl as he shook his head. “How many times do I have to tell you not to play dumb? You’re no good at it.”
I released my thumb from its torture and said, “I’m not playing this time. I really don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Okay. How about we start with, why did you leave this morning?”
“I felt icky and needed a shower,” I said.
“You could’ve showered at my house.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Why?”
“Because, my shampoo is over here and I like my shampoo.”
Noah’s breathing became deeper and picked up speed. The muscles in his arm tensed and relaxed each time he flexed his hands. He was losing patience. “You’re a piece of work.”
His arms unwrapped from around his chest. He took one step forward, placing his palms down on the kitchen island, and leaned in my direction. He had a look in his eye that I had only seen one other time. It was the same look he gave me last night after I ran to Brad’s side. In a steady low-pitched voice, he slowly said, “Why did you run out this morning? Don’t give me any shampoo bullshit.”
I held eye contact and softly said, “I was having a hard time remembering what went on last night. I knew we needed to talk, but I needed to clear my head first,” I paused. “I don’t remember anything that happened after the tequila.”
“You don’t remember a thing after you got drunk?”
I shook my head. “No. Not a thing.”
“You don’t remember me carrying you out of the party and taking you to my house?” I shook my head. “You don’t remember me undressing you? You don’t remember my hands sliding up under your shirt, touching your back? And you don’t remember asking me if I wanted to touch you and then telling me to touch you?” I took another huge gulp of air and shook my head. “None of that rings a bell?” he asked, his voice was low and gruff.
Every nerve ending in my body exploded and he hadn’t even touched me. The hair on my arms and legs bristled. My lips slightly parted, sucking in as much oxygen as possible before I passed out. Warmth started at the top of my head and the tip of my toes, flowing over my body, and meeting smack-dab between my legs. I was feeling woozy and it wasn’t from the aftermath of the tequila.
I stood there, immobile. I couldn’t look away from him. I knew I needed to say something. He wasn’t going anywhere until I did. I couldn’t think of any words long enough to be able to string them together to form a sentence. The only word that came out of my mouth was, “No.”
“That is such bullshit and you know it!” Noah looked down, concentrating on a spot on the countertop. He blew out a big breath and growl of frustration before looking back at me. He sounded so deflated when he said, “Last night, when I saw you standing in the hall …The way you looked at me…Broke me. You looked so hurt and disappointed. I thought I’d lost you for good. I couldn’t think straight after I saw him kiss you. Then you ran to his side. I’ve never felt that out of control before. I wanted to be numb and forget, so I grabbed a lot of beer and the easiest piece of ass around, and f*ck her.”
“Noah…,” I whispered. I understood him. Our actions echoed each other’s last night.
“I always tell her not to talk, so I can pretend it’s you. It’s pathetic, I know. I don’t want to pretend anymore, Tweet. I’m trying my damnedest to stay in the friend zone. It’s just hard and I thought after last night in my room…The way you were acting... I knew you had been drinking. I just thought things would be different for us now.”
“Always?” I said, the hurt evident in my voice.
He just opened himself up to me. Why did I zero in on that word? Why did I think last night was a one-time thing, a mistake? Apparently the rumors were true. The butterflies were gone, replaced by a huge boulder sitting in the pit of my stomach.
“A few times,” he whispered, lowering his gaze.
“Was she your first?”
Tears I had been holding back started to seep out and fall. My mind was whirling. I hated that she had been his first. I hated that he had shared that part of himself with anyone, besides me. We would have been each other’s first and he would be with me, if I didn’t keep pushing him away. My head was so screwed up that Freud would have thrown his hands up and retired.
Noah looked up at me through his long dark eyelashes. He didn’t need to say anything. My eyes started stinging from the tears. I felt exhausted and drained.
I didn’t look at him when I said, “I’m sorry I can’t be with you like that.” I choked back a sob that was trying to escape.
Looking back up I was met with piercing light blue eyes. Noah pushed off the counter and rounded the kitchen island, headed directly towards me. He was in front of me in two strides. Cupping one side of my face in his hand, he tilted my head back, forcing me to look straight into his eyes. His warm breath swept across my lips sending a shiver through my body. His nose skimmed across my cheek up to my temple as he whispered, “Stop pushing me away.”
His lips started moving across my skin again, traveling down my cheek, over my jaw, landing on my neck.
I closed my eyes and let the sensations of his touch wash over me. It would be so easy to get lost in him, but I couldn’t.
“Noah, you promised you’d stay in the zone,” I whispered as he continued to nuzzle my neck.
“That was before last night.”
As his lips made their way down and across my naked shoulder, I tightened my face, swallowed hard, and pulled away from him. His hands dropped and landed on his hips. His head was down.
“I can’t do this with you. Don’t you understand that? Please Noah, stop pushing me.” You could hear the plea in my voice.
He straightened up, turned, and walked out the door, not saying another word or looking back at me.