Present Perfect (24 page)

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 fuck 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.

It took me all afternoon to recover from the events of last night and this morning. After taking a nice long nap, eating a little something, and getting dressed I started feeling like my old average self again. I needed to talk with Noah. I needed to get us back on the friendship track. I had just gotten him back. I wasn’t willing to give him up again.

I knocked on the Stewart’s back door instead of just walking in as I usually did. I stood beside the door, so when he opened it the only thing he saw was my hand holding a plate with a big piece of chocolate cake on it. I could feel the smile he had across his face.

Grabbing the cake, he said, “Thanks. I wanted something sweet.” Then he shut the door. He was playing with me, which was a good sign.

As I entered the house, I saw Noah was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, eating cake. I walked towards him. He looked at me, with a mouthful of cake, and asked, “Did you want some?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Not if it’s going to make you cry.”

He held the fork out to me. Grabbing it, I plunged into the side of the cake that had the most frosting. Noah always left me that part because he knew how much I loved frosting. I handed the fork back to him and lifted myself up to sit on the counter next to where he was leaning. We continued to pass the fork between us until the cake was gone. Noah sat the empty plate behind him on the counter.

He dragged his hands up his face and through his hair. He blew out a breath, then asked, “What are we going to do, Tweet?”

“I need you in my life.”