KingOfManhattan: I’m beginning to feel like a needy chick.

KingOfManhattan: I won’t be happy if you’re dead and this whole time I’ve left messages for a corpse.

KingOfManhattan: Are you dead?

KingOfManhattan: I’ll send flowers. Pansies, I think…

 

Oh, that bastard. I was watching the three little dots bounce on screen. He knew I hated pansies for reasons that made me furious. My ex-boyfriend would bring me them every time he cheated. Though, at the time I had no clue his romantic gesture meant he’d just dicked someone else.

I scowled at my phone, the shudder of the subway bringing me back from Brooklyn reminded me I was in public at peak time and couldn’t answer my phone out loud. Instead I bit my lip and watched a new message come through.

 

KingOfManhattan: I miss you, corpse or not. I miss you.

 

It took the wind out of my sails and suddenly I felt very silly. What was I doing avoiding the one person I cared most for? It was ridiculous. We were both adults, this wasn’t high school for god’s sake. I’d retreated into my cave to lick wounds where there was none because I was embarrassed and unsure of what to do next. This was Noah, the least likely person on the planet to judge or take offense or even to avoid me.

Shame coasted over my neck with realization. He would never ghost me as I’d done him.

Fuck. fuck. Now I was that lousy friend who I couldn’t stand. You know the ones who ignore you for most of your life until you become relevant and useful to their needs and just as fast as those needs are met you’re back on the shelf until the next time.

I was her and I was ashamed of my actions.

Damn. I typed out a message.

 

SouthernBelle: I’m not a corpse and I hate pansies! You are dead to me if you give me pansies.

SouthernBelle: I miss you, too, lion.

SouthernBelle: Owh. Will see you soon, if you’re not busy?

 

The dots began bouncing instantly and my heart clutched inside my chest as the subway came to a screeching halt and people stood up ready to exit. My first day in New York I rode the subway for two straight hours going from one end to the other and back around, it was my favorite thing to do for weeks, I felt so very Carrie Bradshaw those first weeks here, now it was me who smiled fondly at the obvious tourists. I might have a southern twang, but I felt like I had a tiny bit of New York in my blood now. I knew not to jump up right away, to wait for the doors to open before piling up behind the person in front of me, otherwise you got smashed in the face with someone’s body odor.

 

KingOfManhattan: Never too busy for you.

 

Smiling. Okay, he sounded exactly like Noah and now I kinda felt foolish for over reacting. It was no big deal, right? I could go on like it was no big deal, maybe he wouldn’t even mention it, as though it was any other night we caught a movie together and had food (and major fooling around…)

Near our building there was a glorious bakery, far too fattening for my southern hips to visit often, but the lure of frosting had me walking into the store and I bought a box of the twelve flavors I knew Noah liked.

I rehearsed everything I’d say on the short walk home.

It would be fine. I was over reacting as I was prone to do. It was one of those women traits that made us oh so sparkly unique.

We were going to be fine and would probably laugh about this in a few weeks, Hey, remember when I gave you a blow job and then ignored you for days? Yeah har, har, so funny, buddy.

Noah was essential to my days. I relied on his company, his sheer overwhelming glorious alpha presence in the same way I coveted chocolate ice cream when I had PMS. So, with that in mind I let myself into his penthouse, thought about knocking for a second and assumed rightly he would have scowled and made it a thing.

“I’m so tired.” I declared far too brightly entering his office. He was behind the command center, looking spectacularly casual in black T-shirt, black hoodie and I was assuming black track pants.

One long sweep of him and I dragged my eyes away, my face heated like a flame thrower. I was trying to play it cool, no big deal, but inside my belly knotted, no matter how nonchalant I wanted to play it, to me it was a big deal and I was having a hard time picking a reaction lane to go down.

It seemed my runaway tongue had taken the wheel because I didn’t shut the fuck up for a minute.

“The subway was so packed and then my client had me change her design website again. That’s the fiftieth time, I’m ready to tell her to go somewhere else. Have you eaten? I brought snacks. Those cupcakes we had that one time remember, was it for Simone’s birthday? Or am I thinking of Teddy’s thirtieth? He had those dancers, remember? God, what a night that was, I was so drunk, I suffered for a week afterward.”

Fuck my tongue, shut the hell up, oh my god. I kept on going, knowing full well his eyes were on me, probably wondering why I was having run on conversations giving him no room to interject and talking of bullshit that didn’t even matter. “Any way. Cake!”

“Sena.”

Sweat trickled down my back, nervous energy bounced through my veins, this was the worst possible time in my life and I’d lived through having my dad realize I was having sex with a quarterback.

My gaze rebounded to and from him fast, staring instead at his twin iMac monitors. “Is your hard drive still up to standard, does it need a tune up? I can look at it this weekend if—”

“Sena. You can take a breath any time now.” He told me without censor in his tone.

Most people hated rambling, I get that, it’s annoying having to listen to it, especially when it’s coming out of your own mouth. I was one mouthful away from dropping in a bless my soul and then I really would be my momma.

Inhaling, I fidgeted with my hoodie zipper, up, down, up, down until, the thing got stuck midway, it was just my luck today. Balls.

The way he moved was fast water over jagged rocks.

In front of me in seconds, air left the building.

I was right, he was wearing track pants that shaped his bubble ass perfectly.

And I do mean perfectly.

Like he was dressing a toddler he had my zip unstuck in seconds, but he didn’t let me go, instead he took my cold hands in his and for the first time, probably in our whole history, I wanted to draw away from him, I wanted to wrap a bubble of protection around my body to ward off the magic that is Noah.

His orbit is too powerful, I’m sucked in even when I don’t want to. “You should eat a cake.” I told him, far too peppy, inwardly I cringed.

“Sena, for the love of god, would you shut the fuck up and stop trying to fill the silence.” He growled in warning. My head came up to glare at him, it took the wind out of my sails and replaced it with fire, eyes narrowing.

“Well, wasn’t that fucking rude. I mean, really, Noah, is this how you talk to people who—”

Who what, Sena, bring you food? Mouth fuck you? What was the end of that sentence? I would never know because he growled again, the shudder went through me like ice and heat mingling.

“I’m warning you…”

“Jesus, fine! I’m shutting up. You’re awfully grumpy for someone who has cupcakes, Noah Fierro! Remember that. I carried these frosted babies all the way from the bakery. Regretfully, one got smashed so I ate it. I didn’t want you to look at an ugly cupcake, he was a disgrace to the cupcake family.” Okay, maybe I wasn’t shutting up soon enough, but my logic being if I kept on talking about bullshit we wouldn’t address the big fat elephant in the room wearing hot pants and roller skates.

His lips twitched at the ends. “You got rid of a cupcake?”

I made a hmph noise. “I did it for you, so you wouldn’t be disgusted by his squashed face. Now you feel bad for being so damn grumpy, don’t you? To know my sacrifice. You can apologize any time you want to.” And didn’t I just stick my nose in the air and gave a little indignant sniff.

Maybe I should have been less explosive, tried to be nicer, I was here in his office trying to make friends, again. Four days without Noah, taking coffee together, talking of our days felt like I’d been stabbed, the pain of his absence had been felt every minute and it was all my own cowardly doing. “So, you can stop frowning me to death and let me make up with you.”

He sighed like his lungs were jam packed to the rafters, his head falling forward on his thick neck, I caught sight of his crown tattoo nestled behind his ear, the same tattoo I always had designs to lick. The King was in his jungle as usual and me the lowly peasant.

His forehead touched mine, a connection of friendship, his hands dropped to my waist and sort-of just pulled me in though I didn’t feel myself moving but there we were groin to groin chest to chest and linked by the foreheads.

“Don’t go away from me again, kitten. I didn’t fucking like it.”

Bees buzzed in my ears. “I won’t. I—I’m sorry. Work was—and I was busy, so—” The lies tripped off my tongue, seeing his scowl only caused my defensive system to shut down. The desk hindered movement, and with him towering so close I couldn’t breathe as good without getting a mouthful of him—eh, not like that. His scent, just his scent, not his dick this time, his gorgeous dick I could still feel stroking over my tongue.

Oh, god, stop that.

“Do you have to stand so close?” I accused. Please come closer, press your chest to mine.

His eyes narrowed. “You’ve never complained before.”

“Yeah. well.” I huffed for lack of a better response. “I’m complaining now. Back up, Noah. Normal people don’t have conversations nose to nose.”

“Normal people,” he repeated but his tone was all twisted, darker, like I’d said something offensive and he was processing on how to wrap his hands around my throat. I used the moment to move out from his body, as I fixed my hair, finger combing it with my shaky hands.

He smelled so good, I wanted to bury my nose in the nook of his neck and inhale for a week.

“You know what I mean.”

It’s official. This was the most awkward conversation in all of history, don’t argue with me on this. I feel it twisting inside me, curdling all my lunch and coffee injections that day, the cake I’d eaten in two hearty gulps threatened to rise and revolt into my throat and I swallowed reflexively to stop that from happening, vomiting on his pristine carpeted floor was the last thing I need to add to this embarrassing shit storm.

The expression he held was compelling.

Noah didn’t even like me, not that first night.

He had this intense stare like you’d expect a serial killer to have when he’s plotting to drag you into his well and ask you to lather up the cream.

The way he’d looked me up and down, part boredom, part curiosity for this silly girl who dared to walk into his orbit and god forbid say hello.

I later found out how much of a King he was around Manhattan, he wasn’t approachable, friendly, no wonder he looked at me like I was an alien, but I hadn’t known at the time mister high and mighty was that kind of man, to me he’d been the first pretty face I’d wanted to talk to, maybe even flirt with.

Being so excited to be in Manhattan I’d bypassed his scowl and talked to him anyway, he knocked me back quick on flirting, but here we are in each other’s lives now, like a dysfunctional non-sexual couple….eh, scratch that, can’t claim we are no longer non-sexual, now can I?

He was in front of me again.

For someone so freaking big I’m having a hard time keeping track of his movements. He filled the office, though the room was substantial in size, because he’s huge, it’s as though his shoulders touch every wall at the same time, he’s big in frame but also with energy. Like he’s his own solar system, a whirling vortex of planets and stars and gorgeous suns you know you’ll be blinded if you look at them, but the pull is too strong, and you risk your poor retinas for a glimpse.

I glimpse at him now and winced seeing that expression on his face.

He’s disappointed in me.

I frowned.

“I’m sorry, okay! Ugh. Go ahead, say it. I’m ready.” Mentally bracing I closed my eyes. There’s no avoiding. I am officially tapped out of nonsense to fill the space.

I’ll take it on the chin like a grown up and then we can finally move on.

“For someone who can hack like a criminal—”

“—I told you that in strict confidence!” I burst out, eyes pinging open, accusing slits staring at him. “And it was only that one time, to see if I could.”

“—and able to work every piece of tech effortlessly, I forget how innocent and gentle you are at times, kitten.”

Gentle? Me? My cheeks pinked under my indignation and preen at the same time for his compliment on my tech skills.

That was how our friendship had started.

After that initial meeting where I continued to chat his ear off at the bar though he gave me no indication he was participating in my one-sided conversation, I’d told him about my degree and how I was good with computers.

He’d asked how good, of course I told him I was the best.

He proceeded to march me through the crowd and up to the glass office in Frost, where I was sure I was going to be murdered and or sold into slavery. Was sex slavery rife in Manhattan? I didn’t know at the time. Instead he’d pointed to the desktop, told me it was dead. Turned out I saved his bacon and as the saying goes, one brilliant gay best friend was made thereafter.

“I can hear cogs turning, Sena. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“God. No. I mean,” cherry faced. “I’m good, Noah. Really. We don’t have to.”

He took pity on me and nodded, before walking away, taking up space behind his desk.

No sex debriefing. Good. This was relief, wasn’t it?

But on the back of that came a sudden cold rush of, how fucking bad was I at giving him head that he didn’t insist we clear the air?

Doomed.

My whole entire life felt doomed because this line was drawn in the sand somewhere now, this place we couldn’t talk about, or I couldn’t, more to the point. Afraid to hear him say it was a mistake, afraid to hear Noah tell me we couldn’t be friends anymore because my greedy, fucking vagina had ruined it.

“Fine, serve up these special cupcakes you trekked across town for.” He announced, striding towards me, he dropped a kiss to my forehead as he usually did, and continued out of his office. “I’ll make coffee and we can go ahead with not talking about how fucking spectacular you are when you come.”

And just like that, Noah Fierro burst every doubt and notion I’d been having with myself for four days.

I stared after the straight lines of his spine, the unrelenting hardness of his back muscles and his sure stride that was all power even though all he was doing was walking through his home.

Blood rushed through my ears, my face redder than the tips of my dyed hair.

Fucking spectacular.

It was a strange sensation as I followed behind Noah, flushed and heated, wind blowing through my empty mind with no words to say in return, what could I say, thank you?

My fake as shit smile fell off my face.

It still didn’t help my anxiety; my stomach was queasy with both relief he wasn’t pushing the issue and uncertainty.

Sadness sat heavily beneath my ribcage.

And before I could catch up with Noah in the kitchen while I heard him loading the machine with a fresh coffee pod I brushed the feeling away.

Were we still besties?

The difference an orgasm could make. Now I didn’t have answers.

So, I ate cupcakes.