A subtle breeze coasts down my exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I whine, tightening my grasp and burrowing my face further against Noah in search of warmth, only to come to the realization it wasn't him I was clutching to me. I cracked open an eye, my pregnancy pillow coming into view instead of the sight of my slumbering husband.
I furrowed my brows in perplexity; I know I had fallen asleep in Noah's arms.
With a groan, I rolled as far onto my back as I could, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes before pushing myself out of bed—which was getting progressively more and more difficult as the days went by. "Noah?" I called, trudging out of our bedroom with a hand on my back. "God, it's fucking freezing," I grumbled to myself, a chill running down the length of my body the further I walked down the hall. The air conditioning was on full blast as usual, thanks to Noah.
I call his name once again, but there was still no definitive response, other than a muffled 'fuck'.
There wasn't any music playing or the faint smell of toast cascading through our home, so he wasn't in the kitchen or studio. The only other option was the nursery.
I waddled my way towards what used to be our spare bedroom, peeking through the door left ajar. I grinned to myself when I saw him hunched over a piece of paper, tiny screws laid out in front of him in neat piles. I pushed the door open gently and leaned against the doorframe, giving it a light tap to announce my entry.
"Hey you," I greet him. "Whatcha up to?"
"Building the crib," he replies, clipped.
I scrunched up my face at his curtness, shaking my head lightly. "I see... Been here long? I didn't even feel you get out of bed."
"Couple hours. Didn't want to wake you."
I stand up straight, pulling my brows together with a small frown. I was not appreciating his tone.
I take a gander around the room, seeing he had put together the white bookshelf my mom had gifted us and the nightstand we got from Ikea. I loved seeing that things were coming together, bringing me a sense of security and joy, but I could still feel the rigidness permeating from him.
"Everything okay? You seem a little tense," I ask.
He sighs harshly. "Yes, I'm fine. There's a few pieces missing, so I'm a little annoyed with that."
I shuffle on my feet. "Well, we could take a break. Make some breakfast. Plus, we still need to paint the walls, so we can figure out the missing pieces afterwards—"
"We?" He scoffs. "I'm the one putting all this shit together."
My mouth opens, but no words come out. I snap my mouth shut; I'm left blinking as I register the words he just said.
I ball my hands into fists as I feel anger simmering in my veins. "It's a little more difficult for me to sit on the floor and put things together, Noah."
"Then maybe we should've done this sooner before it got too difficult for you," he mumbles with a roll of his shoulders.
"Excuse me?" My jaw drops and my hand flies to my chest, absolutely appalled. I give him a chance to explain himself, but we're left in a tense silence as I watch him continue to fidget with a piece of the crib. "You know what? Go fuck yourself. I can't believe you just said that!" I take hold of the door knob, pulling the door towards me as I begin to make my exit. "Sorry for being eight months pregnant," I snap, then slam the door behind me.
Tears are burning my eyes as I stomp to the kitchen. From there, I don't waste a second and pull out the griddle, aggressively putting it on the counter and plugging it in to heat up. It might be hard for me to build a crib and paint the walls, but it certainly wasn't hard for me to cook breakfast for the both of us. Even if I was pissed off to no end.
After throwing several strips of bacon on the griddle, I made my way around the kitchen and grabbed everything that I needed to make pancakes with haste. I whipped together the batter as the bacon cooked, never minding the fact that Noah was now standing by the island, watching me.
"Olivia," he says my name gently, closing the distance between us. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"I'm cooking." I shoulder him away when he places an arm around my shoulders. I see him stiffen in my peripheral, letting his arm drop to his side.
"Would you like some help?"
"Nope."
We're back to a rigid silence, nothing but a quiet sizzle filling the room as I poured batter onto the griddle in perfect circles. Noah is hovering behind me, and it doesn't help alleviate the tension. Instead, I realize it was making it worse as I fisted the spatula with such aggression, my knuckles turned white. My hand even trembled a little bit while I watched the pancakes start to rise, speckled with tiny bubbles.
"You're gonna burn them—"
I grit my teeth. "I know," I grumbled, flipping them harshly one by one. I knew they would burn if I let them cook any longer, he didn't need to tell me.
He sighs, sidling up behind me and placing a hand on my waist. "I'm just trying to help, love—"
"You can help by parking your ass at the table and leaving me be."
I feel him flinch and slowly retract his hand before he returns to the island, where I hear him take a seat on one of the stools.
Minutes pass; I take the pancakes off the heat and split them between two plates. I had already laid the strips of bacon on paper towels to soak up the excess grease before serving Noah the chewier pieces, and me the crispier.
I may be done cooking breakfast, but I was certainly still stewing in aggravation as I grabbed the bottle of syrup and slide his plate in front of him. I glance at the sullen look on his face before I turned and retrieved my own plate, sitting across from him. He thanks me in a quiet voice, but he doesn't so much as move a muscle while I dig into my breakfast.
"Olivia, I'm sorry," he tries again. "I was just frustrated, I shouldn't have taken it out on you and said that."
I picked up a piece of bacon, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah, you shouldn't have." I shrug and take a bite of the bacon, savoring the hint of applewood as I chewed, and he sighs. "You gonna eat?"
"I'm not all that hungry."
I rolled my eyes and shook my head lightly in annoyance, finishing the strip of bacon in hand before picking up my fork and digging into one of the pancakes.
"You know, that's how I felt when I spent hours putting those things together, just for you to come in and tell me we still had to paint the walls, Liv."
"Seriously, Noah?" In an instant, the anger flared up again and I finally brought my eyes to him, shooting daggers in his direction. I slammed my fork on the table, his untouched silverware rattling from the aggression. "Why are you being such a dick?" He pressed his lips into a line as he leered at me, his eyes bouncing between mine while the tension between us was once again pulled taut. "Forget it," I grumbled, standing abruptly from my seat.
I picked up my plate and brought it to the sink, practically tossing it onto the counter, and turned to make my way back to the bedroom. I brushed past Noah with tears in my eyes and he calls my name, but I ignore him and continue down the hall. My throat burned as I tried not to cry.
It was like a flip of a switch with him, and I didn't understand it. Yesterday he was so kind, gentle, and helpful during the entire shower. He helped set up the event, helped me open gifts, cut and served the cake and other food, put everything away—hell, he barely let me lift a finger. But this morning? He made me feel like absolute garbage for not being able to do these things. I can't lift more than 10 pounds, I can't sit on the floor for very long and put together furniture, I can't paint the walls by myself.
I took a seat on the edge of the bed, my cheeks burning hot as tears rolled down them. Noah comes in shortly after and crouches in front of me, taking my hands in his with a gentle squeeze. He says my name quietly and I bring my eyes up to his face, which screamed nothing but remorse with a definitive crease between his brows and a heavy frown.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "Please don't cry."
"Why are you so... flippant this morning?" I mumbled, struggling to find the right word. My lips quiver and he lets go of one of my hands to cup my cheek, his thumb swiping the trail of tears dry.
"I don't mean to be," he sighs, shaking his head. "I'm just stressed."
"So, you take it out on me instead of talking to me about it? Yesterday you were fine, and now... this," I motioned between us. "Did something happen?"
"No, not exactly..." he trails off.
I shake my head, not understanding. "Then what?"
He remains silent, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. He licks his bottom lip before biting it lightly, most likely mulling over his words before he cradles the back of my head and presses his lips to my forehead.
"I didn't want to upset you by telling you I was nervous about having the baby." He's kneading his fingers in the back of my head as he says this, his eyes heavy with concern, begging for forgiveness. "And don't think that means I'm not excited to have him, I'm just... I'm in my head, you know? It's a lot and I'm worried that... that I'm not ready or that I won't be a good dad."
I felt my heart sink hearing his words, my whole jaw trembling trying to hold my emotions back. "W-why didn't you say anything before, Noah?" I sobbed, shaking my head as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.
"Because it didn't hit me until yesterday," he tells me, squeezing my hand. "Seeing all the gifts, seeing how excited everyone was for his arrival, knowing you're nearly 9 months pregnant. It hit me all at once. We have so many things to put away, so many things to do for the nursery; it freaked me out." I lock eyes with him, his chocolate irises glistening with sincerity. "And you know how I get when I have a task on hand—I don't stop until it's finished. Til everything is perfect. I just want everything to be perfect for you and him." He cups my face with both hands, once again trying to dry my tears with his thumbs. "Okay? I'm sorry for being an ass, from the bottom of my heart."
I nod shallowly in his hands, and he brandishes a soft smile before pressing his lips to mine delicately. I let out a single cry against his mouth and cling onto his shirt, melting into him shortly after, and we stayed like this until neither of us could breathe.
Though him saying he wanted everything to be perfect was reassuring, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit worried about what comes after childbirth. The irritability from lack of sleep, and the arguments that would ensue from it. The disagreements, the crying, the screaming. Things won't be perfect, and that's what scares me—what if he gets sick and tired of trying to make things 'perfect' and leaves?
"Come on," he breaks through my thoughts. "Let's finish breakfast, cuz I know you're hungry," he chuckles, and I huff a quiet laugh. "Then we can set up the room to start painting the walls. How's that sound?"
"But what about the things you already put together?"
"I'll move everything to the center and put a tarp over it. We have to put one down over the rug, anyways."
I nod with a quiet 'okay' and he gives me another reassuring kiss before standing, pulling me to my feet. He takes my hand in his, bringing me back to the kitchen where we finished our now cold breakfast before he left to set up the nursery for painting.
In the meantime, I cleaned up the kitchen and changed into clothes that I didn't necessarily care if they got ruined or not. I threw my hair up into a messy bun and made my way into the baby's room, seeing Noah had finished the task of tarping everything and covering the trim in painter's tape. He was now beginning to pour paint into the pans.
"Ready to get painting?" he asks after putting the lid back on the can. He stands, picking up one of the rollers and attaching it to an extension pole before handing it to me. "I figure it would be easier for you, not having to bend or reach as much. I'll get the nooks and crannies when we get there," he winks, holding up a wide, angled brush.
"Thanks," I chuckle. "Let's get this party started," I say, glancing around the area to survey where to begin. I dip the roller into the pan, coating it in the sky blue color we picked out, and started with the wall opposite of the door.
The idea of painting was a lot easier said than done. It wasn't all that bad at first, just a little burn in my arms from extending them time and time again, but after a while, my back started to ache quite a bit. I was breaking a sweat, and was even a little winded, but still, I pushed on through it, knowing this had to get done—I couldn't let Noah do it all himself, considering our little tiff from earlier.
We had just started the third wall when I couldn't handle the back pain anymore, which was beginning to spread to my abdomen. I set the roller down gently and excused myself, making my way to our bedroom where I lay down, hoping to alleviate some of the ache. It doesn't take long for Noah to follow me in, a look of concern spread on his face as he closes the gap between us.
"You okay, love?" he asks, brushing my bangs back to press a kiss to my forehead.
"Yeah," I let out an exasperated sigh, my face scrunching from the uncomfortability. "My back hurts. I just need to rest for a minute and I'll be back to help finish painting."
He frowns. "I'll finish it up, I don't want you over-doing anything. Sit tight, I'll grab you some water, okay?"
"But—"
"I mean it." He shoots me a pointed look before exiting our bedroom.
I huff with defeat, settling against the pillows with an arm draped over my face, my other hand cradling my belly where the twinge of pain remained. My muscles tighten briefly, and I let out a quiet groan just as Noah reenters the room. I move my arm away from my face and take the glass of water he offered, thanking him before taking a few tiny sips and putting it down on the nightstand.
"You doing okay?"
"Yeah," I nod lazily. "It's going away. I just needed to rest for a minute," I reassure him.
He pulls his lips to the side, a look of doubt strewn across his face as he places his hand on my bump, rubbing slow circles against it. "Alright, if you say so. I don't want you painting anymore though, okay?"
"Noah, please, I'm fi—" My face contorts and I let out a hiss. "It's just a cramp," I tell him through gritted teeth.
"Liv," he says my name warily. "You don't think you're going into labor, do you?"
My heart jumps into my throat, my eyes flashing to Noah's as panic starts to creep in. I can't be going into labor; I still had 5 weeks left to go.
Over the last few days Noah and I had texted a little more, coming up with a game plan for our date. The closer it got the more butterflies I felt in my stomach. The day had come, and I’d barely been able to eat, I was so nervous.
It has been a long time since I’d let myself date, I’d pushed everyone away after what happened with Tate. I figured it was better to be alone, if you don’t let anyone in you can’t get attached therefore no one can hurt you. However, it does get incredibly lonely when your only companion can’t talk back.
That companion wasn’t very helpful when it came to picking out what to wear either. I’d already gotten a shower and put on a black bralette and matching thong. That’s as far as I had gotten though. I swear it felt like I’ve been standing in this same spot staring at my closet for the good part of an hour at this point, my hair still wrapped up in a towel on top of my head, lost in my anxiety filled thoughts.
Hades had long ago given up on me and lay across the rug, head on his paws, staring up at me with his big golden puppy dog eyes. Looking at the clock I had just over an hour before we were set to meet at the ice cream parlor he’d chosen, and it sent me into a frenzy.
With no rhyme or reason, I started gathering random items of clothing and spreading them out on the bed trying to find something to wear. Occasionally I’d hold something up and look over to Hades who would either huff or tilt his head to one side. He was obviously over my bullshit, but I loved him for always staying close.
Eventually I landed on fishnets under a pair of black ripped skinny jeans, a black cropped top, and an oversized black and white flannel shirt hanging loosely overtop. I didn’t want it to look like I was trying too hard you know. I made my way to the bathroom where I pulled my hair up into little space buns, leaving a strand framing both sides of my face, then worked on a simple smokey eyed look and a nude lip. I’ll admit I was a little rusty when it came to doing my makeup, but it came together pretty nicely, and I even walked out of the bathroom with a small smile on my face.
Lastly, I put on my jewelry, a few rings on each hand and a choker, and pulled on a pair of black lace up boots. You know the type with a little platform heel to give me those few inches I apparently needed. Giving myself a good once over in front of my floor length mirror, I decided it was the best I was going to be able to do. “How do I look?” I ask spinning around, striking a pose with one leg kicked out to the side, awaiting Hades’ judgement.
He immediately sat up and gave me a loud bark before sticking his tongue out. It was all the approval I needed. I crouched down ruffling the thick fur around his neck and giving him a quick kiss on his nose, silently thanking him for always being my support system.
I quickly let him out to do his business, checked his food and water bowls, and headed towards the door telling him I’d be back later to share all about my evening. With a deep breath I grabbed my mini backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, and stepped out into the late afternoon/early evening sun. I quickly locked the door behind me and set off in the direction of Tony’s Ice Cream.
Noah’s POV:
Riley and I had agreed to meet up at 6:15pm for ice cream. It was now a few minutes past. I was starting to get antsy as I sat on a bench outside the shop waiting. I hadn’t been on a date in a while and apparently, I wasn’t above the first date nerves. Don’t get me wrong, I’d had some hook-ups over the last year, but no one had really caught my eye or stuck out for more than one night of fun. At least not until I met Riley, the girl had some kind of vice grip on my mind.
Pulling my hands from the pockets of the leather jacket I wore over my hoodie I pull my phone from my jeans. Fidgeting with it for a moment I decide to shoot her a text asking if we’re still on, my knee bouncing uncontrollably. I’m about halfway through typing out the text when I catch someone stop in my peripheral.
“You look like you’re about to bolt.”
Looking up I see she’s standing a yard or so away with her fingers looped through the straps of her mini backpack, a nervous smile gracing her full lips.
My eyes roam from her boots up to her face, stopping momentarily on the skin not covered by the crop top. I’m caught off guard with how different she looks today, her hair done up in cute little buns instead of a messy ponytail. Her makeup was done, and her eyes sparkled in the evening sun. I didn’t know how it was possible, but she looked even more beautiful than either time before.
“Woah… you look amazing!” I say standing and pocketing my phone immediately, a goofy smile spreading across my face.
“Thanks, you don’t look to bad yourself.” She says shifting on her feet as a slight blush spread across her cheeks and her gaze lowers to the ground.
I fight the urge to reach out and lift her chin to bring those brilliant eyes back to mine. Instead, I motion towards the doors before asking “Shall we?”
Nodding, she steps up as I pull the door open allowing her to walk in before following. We take a few minutes to scope out the different flavors before ordering. She opts for two scoops of coffee chocolate chunk in a waffle cone while I get a double scoop of vanilla in a waffle cone, adding chopped peanuts, caramel sauce, and cherries on top.
Once we reach the register, she goes to pull out her wallet. I stop her saying it’s my treat. Of course, she tries to argue but I insist and after bickering a moment she finally gives in. With a triumphant smile I pay, thank the server, and we head back outside, holding the door for the both of us again.
Once the door closes behind me, I bump her shoulder just as she takes the first lick of her ice cream. “You know I’ve heard rumor Tony, the owner, has ties to the mafia.”
“Should I be worried you took me here for a first date?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
Smirking down at her I shake my head, “No, they have the best ice cream around. Just don’t ask to see their freezer and you’ll be alright.” I pause for effect before teasing her, “I’ve heard the pumpkin spice fall flavor is amazing. I for sure thought you would go for it.”
“How dare you assume I’d be a basic bitch!” she exclaims rolling her eyes and feigning hurt. “You on the other hand…” she says eyeing my vanilla before looking back to me with pursed lips.
Laughing, I hold up my free hand in surrender as I bring the cone up enjoying my simplistic choice. “Hey, you can’t compete with a good vanilla. Though I’m not sure I’ve ever tried coffee flavored ice cream.”
She shrugs, “You did invite me for coffee or ice cream. Why can’t I have both?” She takes another lick as we begin walking down the sidewalk with no destination in mind. “At least you didn’t get mint chocolate chip! That toothpaste tasting abomination...” She adds wrinkling her nose.
“That was my second choice.”
“You would!” She shakes her head in disbelief as a smile spreads across her face showcasing her perfect teeth as she bumps my side, unable to reach my shoulder.
After another few leisurely steps, I pick one of the cherries up by the stem, leaning my head back, placing it between my teeth and sucking in into my mouth before discarding the stem into the closest trashcan. Riley’s eyes following the cherry every step of the way.
“If you’re wondering, yes I can.” I say eyeing her as I chew the cherry.
“You can what?” She asks confused.
“Tie a knot with the cherry stem.” I state, smirking at her before taking another lick of ice cream.
“Oh… your tongue game is the last thing on my mind!” She retorts as her eyes return to the sidewalk, the reddening of her cheeks betraying her. “I just wanted a cherry.”
My smirk only grows as I watch the effect I’m having on her. Silently I pick another from my cone and place it on top of hers, earning a smile.
“Thank you. I almost got some but didn’t think they’d mix well with my choice of ice cream.” She says shyly before using her tongue to maneuver the cherry into her mouth, a small moan of enjoyment escaping as she savors it. Now it’s my turn to look away. Touché Riley, touché.
Eventually we end up at a playground a few blocks down the street. It was now abandoned as the sun sets; families all having returned home for dinner and to escape the autumn chill setting in. Finishing the last of our cones and discarding the napkins in the trash, I follow her as she makes her way to the swing set.
She sets her backpack on the ground before plopping down and grabbing hold of the chains. I post up beside her and we lazily swing with our feet still planted on the ground, talking, getting to know each other, and just overall enjoying the others’ company.
We talk about what we do and where we work. She works in a customer service call center but apparently hates it. I tell her I’m a mechanic and my friends and I own our own garage, Like a Muffler.
It takes a more somber turn when she asks if I’m originally from here. I’m not. I explain that I’d lost both my parents young, lived with my grandparents for a while, then bounced around from friends house to friends house, really anywhere I was provided a couch to crash on. I turned to music as an escape and eventually found my friend group. We formed a band and had some mild success in our hometown but moved here for better opportunities. Unfortunately, we never took off like we’d hoped and turned to our secondary dream of owning our own garage and getting to work on a variety of cars. Thats exactly what I have done for the last few years.
I asked the same question of her. She gives a sad smile and returns my honesty with her own. When she was 15 her parents were killed by a drunk driver. All she had left was her 19-year-old brother, Tate, who she was very close with. He dropped out of college and returned home to help take care of her. He got a full-time job and took night classes at the local community college to finish his degree. She worked after school to help, and they scraped by. Right after she graduated high school, he got a job offer here he couldn’t refuse so they moved leaving behind everything and everyone she’d ever known. She ended up taking some classes at a local community college and had a part-time job she really enjoyed. They were finally doing well and enjoying life again, but it came to a halt when she was 20. Tate was killed in a robbery gone wrong after leaving a bar where he’d met up with some coworker for drinks. The cops showed up to inform her the next morning. The only thing that kept her going was Hades. Tate had given her the puppy as a Christmas present shortly before his passing. She’d talked about wanting a dog for years and that was his final gift to her. After he died, she struggled, dropping out of her courses, and found a full-time job to make it by. Now here she was, just her and Hades.
She grew quiet as I glanced over to see a single tear rolling down her cheek as she gazed up at the stars. She looked angelic under the glow emanating from the distant streetlamps and I wanted more than anything to wipe that tear away. Instead, I reached over taking her hand in mine and we swayed back and forth in a comfortable silence.
She eventually pulls her hand away as a cold chill swept over her. Wrapping the flannel shirt tightly around her small frame she hugged herself for warmth. Without thought I stand, shrugging out of my leather jacket before offering my hand to her.
“Thank you, Noah, but I’m good.” She says looking from my offered hand to the jacket.
Sighing, I roll my eyes. “Riley, if you don’t quit being so hardheaded and take the damn jacket! I know you’re cold and I’ll be fine with just my hoodie.”
She glares at me for a moment before placing her tiny hand in mine and allowing me to pull her into a standing position and turning. I slide the heavy leather up her arms and over her shoulders before she turns back with a small thankful smile.
“See, fits like a glove.” I chuckle seeing how the jacket swallows her, her hands not even peeking through the cuffs.
A giggle sounds as she holds her arms out, looking down at herself, and doing a spin before she returns to the swing, grabbing the chains and swaying back and forth.
Going behind, I slowly begin to push her, her head falling back as she goes higher and higher, her eyes closing and smile spreading across her face. Her innocence and enjoyment in that moment dispersing any of the heaviness left over from the previous conversation.
We spent a little while longer talking about a little of this and that before we agree it’s getting late, and we should probably head back towards the ice cream shop. The conversation never dying out as we return the way we came.
Upon making it back to the empty parking lot I shove my hands into my hoodie pocket as we stand in front of my mustang.
“Is this beauty yours!?” She asks, her eyes roving over my pride and joy, hand extending like she wants to touch it.
Laughing, I nod. “Yep, I restored it myself.” Glancing around I notice her SUV is no where in sight. “Uh Ry… where’s your vehicle?” I ask, a crease forming on my forehead.
Picking up on my worry another giggle sounds. “I don’t live that far away so I decided to walk.”
I relax immediately but look at my watch. There’s no way I’m letting her walk home alone after dark. “Can I give you a ride home?”
“What’s wrong, you don’t think I can make it home on my own?” she teases quirking an eyebrow.
“Oh, I have no doubt you would, with that all that sass you keep caged in that small frame of yours. However, I was raised to always make sure a lady arrives home safely.” I shrug.
“How do I know you aren’t really a serial killer and going to kidnap me? You did invite me to a mafia ran ice cream shop after all.” She quips, sticking her tongue out at me.
“Damn, you caught me! Fortunately for you, I left my murder van back home and there’s no way I’m risking any damage or getting blood in this.” I slap my hand on the roof of my car.
She dramatically thinks it over, bringing her fingers to her chin. “Well, if you insist… but don’t get any ideas. The only ride I want tonight is in your mustang, not on you.” She eyes me crossing her arms over her chest, but she can’t keep it together and the edges of her lips curve up into a smile.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll keep my hands to myself. Scouts honor… or something like that.” I promise, chuckling as I cross my fingers over my chest before holding them up in the air.
Finding my response satisfactory she nods, so I proceed around to the passenger side unlocking and opening the door for her. Closing it gently behind her, I slide into the driver’s seat turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life and I release the e-brake, moving from neutral to first gear as she gives me her address and we pull out of the lot.
It doesn’t take long until we’re pulling into her drive. She goes to open her door and I tut, stopping her. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I rush out and around opening the door like the gentleman I am and extend my hand to help her out as she grabs her backpack from the floorboard.
We come to a stop at the path leading to her front door as she turns to me. “Thanks for the ride. And tonight, it was fun.” She says looking up with those eyes, those beautiful icy blue eyes.
“I enjoyed it too.” I reply, unable to look away.
We stand there awkwardly for a moment before I pull her into a goodbye hug. Although things went well, I get the feeling a kiss isn’t in the cards tonight and I don’t want to ruin my chance with her.
“So much for keeping your hands to yourself.” She calls me out followed by one of her adorable giggles.
“What can I say, you have such a huggable personality. I couldn’t resist.” I say releasing her and taking a step back. “Goodnight, Ry.”
“Goodnight, Noah.”
With that she walks away. I lean against my car, my legs crossed in front of me, watching to make sure she gets in safely. She looks back one final time as the key slides in the lock. I pull a hand from my hoodie pocket and give her a salute as she waves with a smile before slipping inside, still wearing my leather jacket.
I hadn’t forgotten but it seems she had. That just gives me an excuse to see her again, right? I climb back into my mustang, revving the engine before pulling out, cranking the radio, and heading home all the while that goofy smile plastered on my face.
Riley’s POV:
I close and lock the door behind me, setting my backpack on the table and sliding down the door to the floor as Hades comes to greet me.
“Hades!” I greet hugging him. “I had such a good time.”
He licks my nose and nudges me as if telling me to continue.
“We went to the park after getting ice cream.” His ears perked up at the word park and I smile. “We talked for hours, getting to know each other. There were never even any weird uncomfortable moments either.”
I hear Noah’s engine rev and the sound of his car growing distant.
“He was such a gentleman too. Well, most of the time.” I laugh leaning my head back against the door. I really needed this. I couldn’t stop smiling and I can’t remember the last time I’d felt so content.
Hades takes that as his opportunity to sniff me, I look down at him questioningly. That’s when I see him sniffing the black leather. I gasp, having completely forgotten Noah had let me wear his jacket! I must admit it did keep me warm though. Sighing, I pull it tighter around me before bringing my knees to my chest and resting my head on my crossed arms. My nose filled with the scent of leather and him.
This one was a bit longer. Lots more playful/flirty bantering. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it. 🖤
[ID: two photos of a porcelain triceratops from different angles. The triceratops is very small and has blue floral designs on its crown and body. Its three horns are painted with gold luster.]
The beginning lines of Noah’s verse in Novocaine is word for word from his Instagram post last year.
Here is the full verse:
Hearing the two of them sing on the same track and knowing that Keaton is gone. Fuck. I am not okay. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this must have been for Noah to record.
When Riley (a lonesome girl with no one to call a friend) and Noah (a tattooed mechanic who plays music in his free time) have a chance meeting in the park, there's an instant spark. Will he become the one to break down the walls she’s built around herself. Maybe she’ll be the missing piece he didn’t know he needed. Or will it all fall apart before it ever begins…
DISCLAIMER: This is purely a work of fiction! It involves real people in a fictional world. No city has or will be specified, I've left that up to the readers imagination. I want you, the reader, to have the freedom to envision the world you imagine them living in.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Cross posted on Wattpad
This is my first attempt at a fanfic and the first story I've embarked on writing in a long time. I know I'm not an exceptionally good writer, but I do hope that you'll enjoy their journey.
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