Noah

Every time Brazen laughed yesterday, I craved to make him do it again. There is a power in the way my words transform his face so immensely. The lines around his mouth deepen, and his eyes hold a light that tugs me to him. I felt so high when I was making him laugh that, when he pulled the rug out from beneath me by refusing to answer my question about Sunday, the fall was long.

I’m not sure if I’m happy or relieved that it’s the weekend.

I have two full days away from Brazen. Two days to clear my mind.

Or maybe I’ll just muck it up more.

Brazen wants me.

I can feel it.

The way the pad of his thumb stroked my ankle.

The hunger in his eyes that set me on fire.

His deep voice that filled the room with unleashed desire.

His need and want hit me over the head every time he even breathed.

“Are you watching this?” Benson asks.

“No, go ahead,” I answer.

He takes a seat next to me on the couch. Not a strand of his groomed chestnut hair is out of place as he pushes up his black-framed glasses and mans the remote. Things have been so much easier between us since that day we danced to music in the living room. He makes eye contact with me, which seems like a huge step for him.

“How do you like your new job?” he asks as he settles on something to watch.

“It’s only been a few days, but I like it so far.” Okay, so that might be a huge understatement. I love working for Brazen. It’s easy, and whoever set up the clerical side was obviously organized, so that has made learning the ropes easier.

“That Brazen is something else, right?” Benson turns my way but keeps one eye on the television, so he doesn’t miss anything good.

That’s right; my new roommates know my new bosses. I have about a million questions I’d like to ask, but I fight against doing so, resisting the urge to snoop because secondhand information is only gossip. Besides, I want Brazen to tell me what the deal is between him and Sunday. Not Benson.

“Yeah.” Suddenly, I don’t feel like talking about my new job anymore. “So, where are you from, Benson?”

“I’m from Fort Myers. It’s a few hours south of here. I came up to Tampa for college and settled into Bay Harbor once I figured out college wasn’t for me. Just thinking about the germs in a place like that is enough to give me hives.”

“You didn’t finish?”

College definitely isn’t for everyone. Frankly, I’ve never really thought it was for me either. Not because of the germs Benson is afraid of, but because I’m not convinced my previous schooling prepared me for that sort of academics.

“No, but I’ve always been good with technology, so I think I landed on my feet.”

“That’s great, Benson. I’m still looking for my skill.” Art is the only thing I’ve found that brings me happiness, but I’m no Picasso. I’m not going to make a living off my attempt at finger painting.

“Noah, have you ever tried speed dating?” His question kind of comes out of nowhere.

I don’t want to tell him, but I don’t actually know what speed dating is. However, I am positive I’ve never attempted it.

“No, I can’t say I’ve done much dating of any kind.” Very true.

“I want to try it. Will you try it with me? It could be fun.”

“Noah can’t go speed dating because she has a crush on her new boss. Don’t you, Noah?” Madison collapses onto the loveseat, kicking her feet up over the arm and giving me an ear-to-ear grin.

“Shut it, Madison.” I playfully throw a decorative pillow at her head.

“That man needs a good woman in his life, Noah. He’d be the perfect boyfriend for the right girl. Hell, he treated the completely wrong girls of his past like queens. Imagine how he’d spoil a nice girl like you.”

“Wrong girls?” What was it I said about gossip earlier? I seem to have forgotten.

“Yeah, he has a history with girls who sucked him dry. His picker is certainly off.”

“So . . .” I pause, wanting but not wanting to ask the question. “He’s not with Sunday?” My curiosity wins out.

“Girl, is that what you thought? Why the hell would I be telling you to go after my friend’s man? No, they aren’t together. No way! In fact, Sunday’s been calling me nonstop since she found out you were my roommate to try to see if I knew whether you were into him or not.”

Relief. I’m not caught in a strange love triangle between my bosses.

“I wrote to Anderson Cooper about the chemtrails I’ve been seeing in our neighborhood, but he didn’t bring it up on his show. It’s really important. They have to be stopped.”

Madison and I both turn to look at Benson, but his eyes are fixed on the television. I look to Madison, who just shrugs.

“Maybe it’s the Russians,” Madison pokes.

“Please, don’t bring them up. I know you’re only teasing, but that’s a whole different kettle of fish,” Benson explains.

“Kettle of fish?” I ask. Of course I do.

“It’s something my dad always says. He likes to fish.”

“How can you watch so much Bravo, Benson?” Madison, who’s completely unaffected by Benson’s tiny rant, is staring at the television with a clear look of confusion on her face.

“How could you not? Those housewives are out of control. Don’t even get me started on Vanderpump Rules. Those guys are my favorite. Jax is so stupid. I love it.” Benson gets all excited as he speaks.

Housewives? Is this a television show?

“Your reality-television obsession is out of control,” Madison tells him. “Please, let’s not talk about this for another minute. It’s bad enough that I can’t take my eyes off those big statement necklaces they all wear.”

“But you asked.” Now, it’s Benson’s turn to look confused.

“You both are nuts,” I tell them.

“You could have done a lot worse in the roommate department.” Madison crosses her legs and turns from the show. “Admit it!” She tosses the pillow I threw at her earlier back my way.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” I roll my eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “Benson, are you happy yet about me being here?”

“Yeah, as long as you believe me when I say the Illuminati is real. The New World Order is out there and extremely scary. We can’t let them attain their goals.”

Benson has the wrong girl. I have no idea what in the world anything he’s brought up in the last fifteen minutes even is. Anderson Cooper, Bravo, Housewives, whatever phrase that was Benson said about fish, Vanderpumps, and Illuminati never made it within the walls of Golden Heights. Still …

“I’m on your side, Benson,” I pledge my very blind loyalty.

“Good, as you should be.” He nods admittedly.

“Guys”—I hesitate—“do I stick out like a sore thumb? Give me the honest truth.”

“What do you mean?” Madison asks.

“I’m a little younger than you two. I don’t know a lot about pop culture. I’ve never had a drink. I could keep going. I don’t know. Sometimes, it just feels like I don’t fit in anywhere.” I mindlessly rub my forearm, feeling uneasy.

“You fit in right here. Who cares that you have no idea who Benson is following on Instagram? In fact, I like that about you.”

I add Instagram to my list of things I don’t know about and turn to Benson. “You’re a man. How do you see me?” I think I’m totally barking up the wrong tree, but I need some feedback.

“Noah, I’m gay. I’m not the one to ask about men’s perception of you.”

I laugh. Well, I was right about which team he played for.

“I’m not asking if you think I’m hide-the-sausage material. I’m just asking for a man’s point of view. Do I come off as inexperienced as I am?”

“You come off as kind, Noah. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Thanks, Benson.” My tone doesn’t reflect gratitude.

Kind? Meh.

Kind isn’t exactly the same as sexy in a man’s eyes.

“Is this about Brazen? Is it him you’re worried about?” Madison jumps in.

“I don’t even know. I’ve never even seen a real relationship. I don’t know what I feel, but there is something between us. I’m certain he feels it, too, but he’s been so hot and cold. There is a lot I don’t know, and maybe that’s a turn-off for him.”

My eyes follow Benson’s movements as he gets up and peers out the living room window.

“Maybe it’s because he’s your boss, and he wants to keep it professional? Stuff like hitting on your employee is discouraged.”

Madison sounds like she knows more than what she’s telling me. That’s okay.

“Maybe.” I sink back against the cushions on the couch and try to rationalize Brazen and how I feel when he’s close to me.

“Our neighbor is up to something. I know it,” Benson interrupts again with something completely outside of the topic. He closes the blinds and returns to the couch and our conversation. “I have a lot of questions,” he says to me.

“About the neighbor?”

“No, about you.”

“So, ask. I’m an open book.” Some things I might be embarrassed to admit, but I’ve never been one to hide anything about myself.

“Are you a virgin?” he whispers the last word like he’s referencing one of his conspiracy theories.

That word carries a shameful stigma, and it’s crap.

“No, but I’d hardly say I’m experienced.”

“What does hardly experienced mean?” Madison adds in.

“I’ve only been with one person, and he’d only been with me. Basically, two kids rubbing against each other and hoping we’d stumble onto something that worked.”

“High school sweetheart?” he suggests.

“More like orphanage friend with benefit.” I shake my head and let out a small chuckle.

“Um. Explain. Please?” Benson gives me a look, telling me he needs more.

“Which part? The orphanage or the lone sexual partner?”

“Both, but let’s start with your Little Orphan Annie past.”

I lean back, preparing to dive in deep.

“I grew up at a place called Golden Heights. My mother gave up her parental rights of me when I was six, and I spent the rest of my childhood there, right up until the day I left to come here. The backstory is long, and honestly, I’m not entirely sure of it myself. The way I grew up was very sheltered, but in a way, it still exposed me to a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we ate there, we slept there, and we played there. Except for school, we hardly ever left the grounds, which was isolating. Yet, when you grow up without parents, you see things children probably shouldn’t.”

“Your mom just abandoned you after she raised you for six years?” Madison sounds stunned.

Yeah, it baffles me, too.

“She did. I’m not entirely sure why, so don’t ask.” I don’t mention the letter in my bedroom that I got a few days before I left. I haven’t opened it; part of me is scared it will give me the answer, and part of me is scared that it won’t.

“Was she … crazy?” Benson asks hesitantly.

Only he could get away with asking something like that.

“I think we’re all a little crazy, but in the way you mean, no, probably not.”

She wasn’t crazy. She was selfish. I don’t need to know her motives to understand that.

“People say I’m crazy.” Benson’s eyebrows pull together.

“What fun would the world be without a little madness?” The left corner of my mouth lifts.

He likes my answer and nods, a smile plastered on his face.

“Okay, so what about the boy?” Madison moves us along, switching to part two of Benson’s question.

“Not much to tell. He was at Golden Heights with me. Neither of us had any interest in each other. I actually think he might have been gay and was trying to prove to himself that he wasn’t. For me—and probably him, too—our fooling around was a way for us to feel like normal teenagers, which we clearly weren’t. Plus, there were no parents around to tell us not to.”

I never explained that to anyone. Not even Ryan, the boy who took my virginity. I assumed he felt the same way, but who knows? When he touched me, I would imagine he was Ryan Gosling and I was Rachel McAdams. That scene in The Notebook when Allie asks Noah why he didn’t write her would often play in my head. But my sexual experiences were nothing like kissing Ryan Gosling in the rain; that’s for damn sure.

“You’re young. Brazen knows that. He probably assumes there might be a bit of inexperience on your part, but that doesn’t mean he assumes you’re a virgin. But, even if he does, who cares?” Madison makes it sound so simple.

“Is he way out of my league?” I ask the room.

“Girl, I’d better not hear you talking like that again. No one—I repeat, no one—is out of your league. If you want him, then go and get him.” Benson points to the door, as if Brazen is standing right on the other side.

“I want love. Is that naive? I want to be passionate about the next person I sleep with. I want there to at least be a potential for something really special.” I look down at the floor as I admit my romantic notions.

“There are no guarantees in life, sugar. A man could be sweet right up until after he gets into those pretty little panties I assume you wear. But you’ll never know if you’ve found something special if you don’t go after it,” Madison says.

“Well, that’s true.”

Benson and Madison are right.

And Brazen just might be worth any potential heartbreak I suffer after his touch.