Present Perfect (23 page)

Noah placed his hands on either side of my hips, his fingers hooked around the top of my jeans, and he slid them down to my mid-thigh. I glanced down and noticed him trying not to look at my naked thighs or my lacy purple boy shorts. I could feel his hot breath over the front of my panties. We stilled for a few seconds before I heard him swallow a big gulp of air. He helped me sit back down, and then pulled my jeans off the rest of the way. It was so cute how uncomfortable he was.

Holding out his boxers, I put one leg followed by the other into them. I stood up, again steadying myself with his shoulders while he pulled the boxers up my legs. Clearing his throat Noah said in a low voice, “I’m sure you’ll be able to handle the rest on your own. I’ll go get the water and aspirin.”

The tequila was making me bold, forgetful, and horny. Memories of what happened between us just a few hours ago weren’t hurting as much now. I wanted to know what it felt like to have Noah’s hands on me. I wanted his lips on my skin. I wanted to know what it felt like to be Brittani.

While he was still kneeling in front of me, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up over my head, tossing it to the side. Noah froze, gazing at me.

Grinning, I asked, “What are you looking at? I never struck you as a lacey bra kind of girl?” I sucked in my lower lip then slowly released it. “I have a black one, a red one, a white one, a pink one, a yellow one, and of course, you can see the purple one. They all have matching lace panties too.” I gave him a little smile.

Damn, what had gotten into me? I was no longer average and plain Amanda Kelly. I had become some type of tequila slut. I was a Sluquila. I’m telling Noah all about my underwear. Oh! My! God! I’m telling Noah all about my underwear! Rather, Senorita Sluquila
is.

Noah never took his eyes off of me or my bra, as he reached for the t-shirt and handed it to me. He exhaled a shaky deep sigh and then said, “Put this on. Now!”

I took the t-shirt and pulled it over my head. Noah was trying hard not to look in my direction. I turned off my brain and let Senorita Sluquila take over. Raising my leg, I slowly rubbed my inner calf up and down Noah’s hip.

“You want to see how talented I am?” I asked looking at him through my eyelashes.

“What are you talking about?” he said.

I could tell he was still slightly dazed from my underwear soliloquy.

“Watch and learn, buddy boy.” Keeping eye contact, Noah sat back on his heels ready for the show.

Moving one arm around to my back, I played with my bra hook for a few seconds, trying to unclasp it. Once it was undone I reached up into the sleeve of the shirt and pulled one strap down and out. I repeated the exact same move on the other side, this time I pulled the entire bra out from the sleeve, held it over my head, and loudly said, “Ta-dah!”

Noah started shaking his head and laughing, some of his nervousness disappearing. “You’re nuts.”

“And talented.” I gave him a wink.

“Yes, very talented,” he said, smiling at me.

The room got very quiet for a few seconds as we continued to maintain eye contact. I leaned back on the bed, propping myself up on my elbows. I tilted my head slightly to one side and shook it, letting my hair fall over my shoulder.

I’m not sure if I wanted him to be jealous or feel guilty because of Brittani, when I asked, “Do you want to know what Brad did to me?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “He ran his hands up and down my bare back, over my hips, and grabbed my ass.”

I could see the anger build up in Noah’s eyes. His face was becoming strained, his hands were already formed into fists, and his breaths were coming out deep, and heavy. I rubbed his hip again with my leg. Suddenly, I felt his hands behind my knees, pulling me to the edge of the bed, and against his chest. I gasped. My hands gripped the edge of the bed while his remained behind my knees. We were nose-to-nose. Our chests rising and falling quickly, as our breaths became heavy.

Gazing into his beautiful hypnotic light blue eyes, I whispered, “Do
you
want to touch me?”

Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and sighed, “Fuck, yes,” he whispered.

“Then do it,” I challenged.

He moved in closer. I felt his hands run over my hips and under my shirt. The sensation of them on my bare skin caused heat to radiate between my legs.

Our lips were almost touching when I whispered, “Touch me, Noah.”

He stared at me for several seconds. The look in his eyes was a combination of desire and conflict. I felt his hands start to travel down my back and out from under my shirt. He pulled away from me and sat back on his heels.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he said under his breath.

I didn’t understand what had just happened. I felt embarrassed and confused. I had obviously done something wrong. Noah didn’t want me.

Somehow building up the courage, I asked, “What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. It’s just you’ve been drinking a lot and I don’t want anything to happen between us while you’re drunk.”

I could feel my tears getting ready to spill over my cheeks. He didn’t want me. I felt an all-consuming humiliation wash over me.

Looking down at my lap, I whispered, “I want to go home now.”

Wiping away my tears, he said in a low voice, “Don’t cry, Tweet. Talk to me.”

I couldn’t look at him. “It’s just that I could tell Brittani was drunk and you still…” I trailed off. “Please let me go home now.”

God, I was pathetic. If this was how I act when I’m drunk then I am never going to drink again.

Noah wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest, and softly said, “I’m so sorry about tonight. I hate myself for hurting you,” he pulled back, resting his forehead on mine. “It didn’t matter if
she
was drunk. I don’t care about her and she knows that. She doesn’t care about me either. We were both using each other. You’re not just a warm body that a guy screws when he’s trying to numb himself. You mean everything to me.” He kissed my forehead gently, and then whispered against it, “Don’t go. Stay with me.” I nodded. I wanted to stay. He then left to get my water and aspirin.

Once the door had closed, I laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I felt completely drained. My head began to throb from the events of the night running around in it. I scooted up the bed and crawled under the covers, lying on my side.

I heard the door open and close quietly. Noah walked around to my side of the bed. Sitting up, I took the water and aspirin he brought me. Noah had already changed into a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. I placed the glass on the nightstand and laid my head back down. The lights went out. I felt the bed dipped as he slipped under the covers behind me. Pressing his chest against my back, he let his arm drape around my waist and held me tight. I felt his warm breath flowing over the back of my neck. He calmed me.

I was ready for this night to be over, so it surprised me when I opened my big mouth and said, “Noah, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, Tweet,” he whispered against my neck.

“Even if it’s about Brittani?”

I felt his chest expand and contract as he took in a deep breath and then slowly let it out. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you want to kiss her or hear her talk?”

The room fell quiet. Noah hugged me tight against him, and whispered, “Because she’s not you.”

That was all I needed to hear at that moment before drifting off to sleep with a smile of contentment on my face.

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 fucked 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.