When in Rome

WheninRomeisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentsaretheproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualevents,locales,orpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
Copyright?2022bySarahAdams
Allrightsreserved.
PublishedintheUnitedStatesbyDell,animprintofRandomHouse,adivisionofPenguinRandomHouseLLC,NewYork.
DellisaregisteredtrademarkandtheDcolophonisatrademarkofPenguinRandomHouseLLC.
LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData
Names:Adams,Sarah,1991–author.
Title:Wheninrome:anovel/SarahAdams.
Description:DellTradePaperbackEdition|NewYork:DellBooks,2022.
Identifiers:lccn2022010987(print)|lccn2022010988(ebook)|isbn9780593500781(tradepaperback)|isbn9780593500798(ebook)
Subjects:LCGFT:Novels.
Classification:lccps3601.d3947w482022(print)|lccps3601.d3947(ebook)|ddc813/.6—dc23
LCrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/?2022010987
LCebookrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/?2022010988
EbookISBN?9780593500798
randomhousebooks.com
BookdesignbySaraBereta,adaptedforebook
Coverartanddesign:SandraChiu
ep_prh_6.0_140874742_c0_r1Contents
Cover
TitlePage
Copyright
Epigraph
Chapter1:Amelia
Chapter2:Noah
Chapter3:Amelia
Chapter4:Noah
Chapter5:Amelia
Chapter6:Noah
Chapter7:Amelia
Chapter8:Amelia
Chapter9:Noah
Chapter10:Amelia
Chapter11:Amelia
Chapter12:Noah
Chapter13:Amelia
Chapter14:Amelia
Chapter15:Noah
Chapter16:Noah
Chapter17:Amelia
Chapter18:Noah
Chapter19:Amelia
Chapter20:Noah
Chapter21:Amelia
Chapter22:Noah
Chapter23:Amelia
Chapter24:Amelia
Chapter25:Noah
Chapter26:Amelia
Chapter27:Amelia
Chapter28:Amelia
Chapter29:Noah
Chapter30:Amelia
Chapter31:Amelia
Chapter32:Noah
Chapter33:Amelia
Chapter34:Amelia
Chapter35:Amelia
Chapter36:Noah
Chapter37:Amelia
Epilogue
Dedication
Acknowledgments
AlsobySarahAdams
AbouttheAuthor“Iwasbornwithanenormousneedforaffection,andaterribleneedtogiveit.”
—AudreyHepburnChapter1Amelia
Thisisokay,right?I’mokay?
Itakeadeepbreathandwrapmyfingersalittletighteraroundthesteeringwheel.
“Yes,Amelia,you’reokay.You’refantasticactually.You’rejustlikeAudreyHepburn,takingyourlifeintoyourownhands,annnnnd…you’retalkingtoyourself…somaybenotcompletelyokay,butgiventhecircumstances,semiokay,”Isay,squintingatthedarkroadoutsidemywindshield.“Yes.Semiokayisgood.”
Except,it’scompletelydark,andmycarismakingthisnoisethatsoundslikeloosecoinstumblingaroundadryerdrum.I’mnotacarwhiz,butI’mthinkingthat’snotagoodsoundforittobemaking.MyfavoritelittleToyotaCorolla,thecarthathasbeenwithmesinceIwasinhighschool,thecarIwassittinginwhenIfirstheardmysongontheradioatageeighteen,thecarthatIdrovetoPhantomRecordsandsignedmyrecordingdealtenyearsagoisreachingitsexpirationdate.Itcan’tdie,itstillhasthesmellofmyoldvolleyballkneepadsingrainedinthefabric.
No,nottoday,Satan.
Irubthedashboardliketheremightbeahiddengenieinsidewaitingtopopoutandgrantmethreewishes.Insteadofwishes,I’mgrantedthelossofcellservice.ThemusicI’mstreamingcutsoff,andmyGoogleMapsisnolongerregisteringthelittlearrowthat’ssupposedtoleadmeoutofthismiddle-of-nowhere-serial-killer-backwoodsroad.
Yikes,thisfeelslikethestartofahorrorfilm.IthinkI’mthegirlinthemoviepeopleyell“you’reanidiot!”at,whilepopcorncrumbsleakfromtheirgreedysmiles.Ohgeez,wasthisamistake?I’mafraidIleftmysanitybackhomeinNashvillealongwithmyirongateandFortKnoxsecuritysystem.AndWill,myfabuloussecurityguardwhopostsupoutsidemyhouseandstopspeoplefromsneakingontomyproperty.
Earliertonight,mymanager,Susan,andherassistant,Claire,downloadedmewithinformationaboutmyupcoming,jam-packedscheduleforthenextthreeweeksbeforeweleaveonanine-monthworldtour.Theproblemis,Ijustfinishedmylastdayofagruelingthree-monthtourrehearsal.Almosteverydayofthelastthreemonthshasbeendedicatedtolearningtheconcertchoreography,stageblocking,solidifyingthesetlist,rigorousexercise,andrehearsingthesongs,allwhilesmilingandpretendingthatinsideIdidn’tfeellikearottingcompostpile.
IsatsilentasSusantalkedandtalked,herlong,slender,perfectlymanicuredfingerscrollingendlesslyacrossaniPadscreenfullofschedulenotes.SchedulenotesIshouldfeelexcitedtohear.Honoredtohave!Butsomewhereinthemiddleofit,I…shutdown.HervoicetookontheCharlieBrownwah,wah,wahtoneandallIcouldhearwasmyownheartthumpinginmyears.Loudandpainful.Iwentabsolutelynumb.AndwhatscaredmethemostwasthatSusandidn’tevenseemtonotice.
ItmakesmewonderifI’mtoogoodathiding.Mydaysgolikethis:Ismilethiswayatthispersonandnod.Yes,thankyou.Ismilethatwayatthatpersonandnod.Yes,ofcourseIcandothat.SusangivesmeascriptperfectlycraftedbymyPRteamandImemorizeit.Myfavoritecolorisblue,muchthesameastheGivenchygownI’llbewearingtotheGrammys.Whyyes,Idoowemuchofmysuccesstomylovinganddevotedmom.Adaydoesn’tgobythatIdon’tfeelincrediblyblessedtohavethiscareerandmyamazingfans.
Polite,polite,polite.
AhotsplotchoftearsfallsontomythighandIrealizeI’mcrying.Idon’tthinkI’msupposedtobecryingthinkingofthosethings.I’matwo-timeGrammywinnerandIhaveasignedcontractforninetymilliondollarswiththetoprecordlabelinthebusiness,soIshouldn’tbecrying.Idon’tdeservetobecrying.AndIdefinitelyshouldn’tbeinmyoldcarinthemiddleofthenightdrivingfranticallyawayfromeverything.ThelistofpeopleI’llbelettingdownrunsthroughmymindlikeascroll,andIcanbarelywithstandtheguilt.I’venevernotshownupforaninterviewbefore.Ihatedisappointingpeopleoractingasifmytimeismorevaluablethantheirs.AtthestartofmycareerIvowedIwouldnevergetabighead.It’simportanttometobeasaccommodatingaspossible—evenifithurts.
ButsomethingaboutSusan’spartingwordstonightwreckedme.“Rae,”—becauseshepreferstocallmebymystagenameratherthanmyrealname,whichisAmelia—“you’relookingtired.Getsomeextrasleeptonightsoyouwon’tbepuffyinthebehind-the-scenesphotosoftheVogueinterviewtomorrow.Although…theexhaustedlookistrendingagain…”ShelookedthoughtfullyupattheceilingandIhalfexpectedGodhimselftobeamdownananswertoherconcerningthebagsundermyeyes.“Yeah,forgetIsaidanything!It’llstirsympathyfromyourfansandbringalittlemorebuzz.”
Sheturnedandleft—herassistant,Claire,pausingonlybrieflytotossmeonelasthesitantglanceoverhershoulder.Sheopenedhermouthlikeshewasgoingtosaysomething,andIfoundmyselfdesperatelyhopingshewould.Seeme,please.
“Goodnight,”shefinallysaidandthenleft.
IsatintheringingsilenceforsolongwonderinghowIletmyselfgethere.AndhowdoIcrawloutofthisshellI’veaccidentallycreated?Thishollowed-outfeelingstartedtofindmeafewyearsago,andI’dhopeditwasbecauseIwassickoftheL.A.lifestyleandneededachange.IpackedupandmovedtoNashville,Tennessee,whereIcouldstillbearoundthemusicbusinessscene,butnotquiteashigh-profileliving.Itdidn’twork.Thehollownessfollowedme.
Somepeopleturntofamilyforquestionslikethat,someturntofriends,andsometurntoMagic8Balls.ButIturntotheonepersonwhoneverletsmedown:AudreyHepburn.Tonight,IclosedmyeyesandskippedmyfingerovermycollectionofAudreyDVDcases(yes,IstillownaDVDplayer)whileplayingagameofeenie-meenie-miney-mountilIlandedonRomanHoliday.Itfeltcataclysmic.Inthemovie,AudreyplaysthepartofPrincessAnn,whowasfeelingmuchlikeIhavebeen—aloneandoverwhelmed—andsheescapesintothenighttoexploreRome.(Well,morelikemeandersintothenightsinceshe’sloopyonasleepingsedative,butthat’sneitherherenorthere.)
Andsuddenly,thatwasit.TheanswerI’dbeenlookingfor.Ineededtogetawayfromthathouse,fromSusan,frommyresponsibilities,fromabsolutelyeverything,andescapetoRome.Except,ItalyiswaytoofartotravelwhenIheadoutontourinthreeweeks,soIsettledforthenearestRomethatGoogleMapscouldgiveme.Rome,Kentucky.Exactlytwohoursawayfrommyhousewithalovelylittlebed-and-breakfastintheheartofitstownaccordingtoGoogle.Perfectplacetogetmyshittogetherandovercomeabreakdown.
SoIwenttomythree-cargarage,passedtheothertwoexpensivevehiclesIown,andpulledthetarpoffthesweet,oldcarI’vekepttuckedawayforthepasttenyears.Istartedherup,andIdroveoffinsearchofRome.
AndnowI’monacreepybackroadandIthinksomeoftheemotionalnumbnessiswearingoffbecauseI’mbeginningtoseehowridiculousthisideais.SomewhereinheavenAudreyislookingdownwithherhaloandshakingherheadatme.Iglanceatmyphone’sglowingscreen.Thewordsnoservicearepastedwherethesignalbarsusuallylive,andIswearthosewordsaresomehowblinkingatme.Tauntingme.Youmadeabadchoice.NowyougettobethenextstoryonDateline.
IswallowandtellmyselfthatIwillbetotallyfine.Noproblem.Everythingisgood.“Dryyourtearsandkickthisgloomyattitudeinthepants,Amelia!”Isayoutloudtomyselfbecausewhoelsedoesagirltalktowhenshe’saloneinthecarinthemiddleofamentalbreakdown?
IonlyneedmycartokeepmovingforanothertenminutesuntilIemergeoutofthisscary-as-shitbackroadandarriveatthelittletownBandB.Then,Iwillhappilyallowmycarthedignifieddeathshedeserves—wheretherearestreetlights,andhopefullynotHillbilly-Joe-Serial-Killerwaitingtodumpmybodyinaditchsomewhere.
But,oh,wouldyoulookatthat?Mycarhastakenonanewsputteringsoundandisjolting…literallyjoltinglikethisistheearly2000sandIinstalledhydraulics.AllIneedarepurplelightsundermycarandI’msettotimetravel!
“Nonono,”Ipleadwithmycar.“Don’tdothistomenow!”
Butshedoes.
Mycarcomestoastuttering,highlyundignifiedhaltonthesideofthepitch-blackroad.Ifranticallytrytostarttheengineagain,butit’snothavingit.Aseriesofclickingnoisesisallitmakes.MyhandsarestilltightlyclampedonthesteeringwheelandIstareoutintotheunmovingnightasrealizationsettlesoverme.ItriedtomakeitonmyownwithoutSusan’shelpforoneadventureandIfailedonthefirstnight,twohoursin.Ifthatisn’tthemostpatheticthingyou’veeverheard,Idon’tknowwhatis.Sure,Icansingonastageinfrontofthousands,butIcan’tdosomethingassimpleasdrivemyselfonestateover.
SincethereisnothingIcandobutsitinmycarandwaituntilmorningwhenthesunisupandIcanclearlyseeifanyoneisholdingabloodychainsawinmydirectionornot,Ilaymyheadbackagainsttheseatandclosemyeyes.Iletdefeattakeme.Tomorrowmorning,I’llfindawaytocallSusan.I’llhavehersendacarandI’llforcemyselfoutofthismelancholymood.
Knockknockknock.
Iscreamandjumpinmyseat,bumpingthetopofmyheadontheceiling.Ilookoutthewindow,andohshit,there’ssomeonestandingoutsidemycar!Thisisit.ThisisthemomentIwillgetmurdered,andafterthetruestoryofmydeathairsonEHollywoodNews,allIwillberememberedforismygrislycornfielddemise.
“Everythingallright?Doyouneedhelp?”comesthemuffledvoiceofthemanoutsidemycar.Hebeamsaflashlightthroughmywindow,temporarilyblindingme
Iholdmyhandsuptoshieldmyeyesfromthelight,andalsoobstructhisviewsohedoesn’trecognizeme.“No,thankyou!”Iyellthroughmyclosedwindow,myheartbeatingwildlyagainstmyribs.“I’mfine!I-Idon’tneedanyhelp!”Definitelynotfromastrangemaninthemiddleofthenight.
“Yousure?”hesays,finallyrealizinghewaspiercingmyeyeswithhisflashlightandturningitawayfrommyface.Hehasanice-soundingvoice,I’llgivehimthat.Sortofrumblyandtenderatthesametime.
“I’msure!”Isayinacheerytone,becauseeverythingaroundmemightbefallingapartbutatleastIstillknowhowtomusteruppleasantness.“Goteverythingundercontrol!”Imaketheokaysignwithmyhandforaddedmeasure.
“Lookslikeyourcarbrokedown.”
Ican’tadmittothat!IwouldbasicallybetellinghimthatI’masittingduck.Myphone’soutofservice,too!Wouldyoulikeformetostepoutsoyoucanabductmeorwoulditbemorefunforyoutobreakthewindowyourself?Chooseyourownadventure!
“Nope.Just…takingabreakforaminute.”Ismiletensely,keepingmostofmyfaceturnedaway,hopinghewon’trealizeaperformingartistworthmillionsissittinginthisbeat-upCorolla.
“Yourengineissmoking.”Heshinestheflashlightonthedensecloudofsmokebillowingoutfromunderthehoodofmycar.Thatcan’tbegood.
“Oh…yeah,”Isayascasuallyaspossible.“Itdoesthatsometimes.”
“Yourcarengineoftensmokes?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Ican’thearyou.”
“Mm-hmm,”Isaylouderandperkierthanbefore.
“Right.”He’sclearlynotbuyingmystory.“Look,Ithinkyouneedtogetout.It’snotsafetostayinasmokingvehicle.”
Ha!He’dlikethat,wouldn’the?Well,thereisnowayinhellI’mgettingoutofthiscar.Evenifhehasanice-soundingvoice.
“No,thanks.”
“I’mnotgoingtomurderyouifthat’swhatyou’rethinking.”
Igaspandlookoutatthedarklysilhouettedman.“Whywouldyousaythat?NowIreallythinkyou’regoingtomurderme.”
“Thoughtso,”hesays,soundingirritated.“WhatdoIneedtodotoproveI’mnotamurderer?”
MyforeheadcreasesasIthinkaboutit.“Nothing.There’snowayyoucanproveit.”
Hegruntssoftlyandwalkstothefrontofmycar,standinginfrontofthelights.Icanseehimnow,andwow.HillbillyJoesurelooksalotlikeWildernessKen.He’swearingjeansandaplainwhiteT-shirt.Hissandyblondhairiscroppedshorteronthesidesbuthasabitofplayonthetop.Ascruffyshortbeardcovershisstrongjaw,andletmetellyou,itpairsnicelywiththewideshoulders,leanbody,andbicepsthatjumpenticinglywhenheknocksonthehoodofmycar.Theentireeffectis…ruggedinawaythatmakesmewishmyair-conditioningwasworking.
“CanyoupopthehoodsoIcanmakesurenothingisonfire?”
Uh-uh.Sorry,butno.Sexyornot,there’snowayI’mopeningthathood.Whatifhe…well,honestly,Iknownothingaboutcarsandhavenoideawhathecoulddotomakethissituationworse,butI’msurehecandosomething.
“Thanks,butIdon’tneedyourhelp!I’llwaituntilmorningandcallatowtruck,”Iyellloudenoughforhimtohearme.
Hecrosseshisarms.“Howareyougoingtocallatowtruck?Wedon’tgetcellserviceouthere.”
Well,shoot.He’sgotmethere.
“Don’tworryaboutit.I’llfigureitout.Youcangobacktowhereveryoucamefromnow.”Probablyanearbybushwherehe’llbewaitingtopounceonmethesecondI’moutofmysafevehicle.Andyes,IrealizeI’mbeingalittleover-the-topparanoid,butwhenyou’reusedtostalkerstryingtoclimbthegatedfenceoutsideyourhouse,poseasaplumbertogetpastyoursecurityguard,and/orsendyoulocksoftheirhairaskingyoutoplaceitunderyourpillowatnight,youtendtodevelopasenseofparanoiatowardstrangers.WhichiswhyIshouldhaveNEVERleftmyhousealone.IneedtoacceptthefactthatI’mnotjustmeanymoreandneverwillbeagain.
WildernessKendoesn’twalkaway.Hereturnstomywindowandleansdownagain,onehandfirmlyplantedabovemydoor,showingmejusthowamplehiswingspanis.“Asmokingengineisnotgood.Youneedtogetout.IpromiseI’mnotgoingtohurtyou,butyouwillbehurtifthiscargoesupinflames.IpromiseI’matrustworthyperson.”
“That’swhatallthemurdererssay…beforetheymurdersomeone.”
“Metalotofmurderersinyourtime?”
OnepointforWildernessKen.
Ismileandtrytosoundaskindaspossible.“Sorrybut…canyoujustgoaway?Really,Idon’tmeantoberude,but…you’resortofmakingmenervous.”
“IfIgoaway,willyougetout?”
Ilaughastuntedlaugh.“Definitelynotnow!Wheredidyoucomefromanyway?”
Themannodstowardtheothersideofmycaranddoesn’tsoundatallimpressedwhenhesays,“You’reinmyfrontyard.”
Oh.
Iturn,andsureenough,I’mpulledoverinafrontyard.Hisfrontyardapparently.Ican’thelpbutsmileatthecutehouse.Small.White.Blackshutters.Twolightsbesidethefrontdoor,andahangingswingonthefrontporch.Largeexpansivelandaroundit.Itlookshomey.
“IthinkIalreadyknowtheanswer,”hesays,“butdoyouwanttocomeinandcallsomeone?Ihavealandline.”
Ilaughsoloudathissuggestionthathewinces.Ohdear,thatwasrude.Iclearmythroat.“Sorry.No.Thankyou…Butno,”Isayitsolemnlythistime.
“Fine.Suityourself.IfyouneedanythinganddecideI’mnotakiller,I’lljustbeinthere.”Hegesturestowardthehouseandrisestohisfullheightagain.Iwatchashecrosseshislongfrontyardandhisshadowdisappearsintothehouse.
Afterheshutshisfrontdoor,Isighwithreliefandsinkintomyseat,tryingnottoworryaboutthesmokestillstreamingfrommycar’sengine,orhowfreakinghotitisinhere,orthatI’mhungry,orthatIreallyneedtopee,orhowdisappointedSusanwillbewithmeoncesherealizesI’mnotshowinguptothatinterviewinthemorning.
I’mnotokay.Everythingisdefinitelynotokay.Chapter2Noah
She’sstilloutthere.It’sbeentwentyminutes,andshe’syettosomuchascrackherdoor.And,yes,IamwatchinghercreepilyfrommywindowactinglikethepsychopathshethinksIam.I’mnot,fortherecord—thoughI’mnotsuremyopinionreallycountsinthissituation.Iamalittleworriedshe’sgonnadietonight,however.It’s80degreesoutsideandshe’snotallowinganyventilationthroughhercar.Thatwomanisgoingtosmotherherselfoutthere.
Whatever,notmyproblem.
Ilettheblindssnapclosedandpaceawayfromthewindow.
AndthenIpacerightbackandopenthemagain.
Dammit,getoutofthecar,woman.
Ilookattheclock.11:30p.m.IshootupaprayertoanyonelisteningabovethatMabelwon’tbetoopissedatmewhenIcallandwakeherup.Afterdialinghernumber,Ihavetowaitsixringsbeforeherscratchyforty-years-of-smoking-but-recently-quitvoiceanswers.“Whoisit?”
“Mabel,it’sNoah.”
Shegruntsalittle.“Whatdoyouwant,son?Iwasalreadydozinginmychairforthenight,andyouknowIhaveinsomniasothisbetterbegood.”
Ismile.“Believeme,Mabel,Iwouldn’tbedisturbingyourbeautysleepunlessitwasanemergency.”
Sheactstoughbutherheartismushforme.Mabelandmygrandmawerebestfriends—morelikesistersreally.Andsincemygrandmawastheonewhoraisedmeandmysisters,Mabelalwaystreateduslikefamily,too.Lordknowsweactrelated.Welookdifferent,MabelisBlackandI’mwhite,butwebothsharethesamegeneraldislikeforpeoplebeingupinourbusiness.(Andyetshe’salwaysmorethanhappytobeallupinmine.)
“Emergency?Noah,don’tstringmealong.Yourhouseonfire,son?”She’scalledme“son”sinceIwasindiapersandcontinuestodespitethefactthatI’mthirty-twoyearsold.Idon’tmind.It’scomforting.
“No,ma’am.Ineedyoutospeaktoawomanforme.”
Shecoughswithdisbelief.“Awoman?Honey,it’sgoodtohearyou’relookingagain,butjust’causeyou’relonelyinthemiddleofthenightdoesn’tmeanIhavealistofladiesonspeeddialreadyto—”
“No,”IsayfirmlybeforeshecontinueswithwhatI’msurewouldbeastringofwordsIneverwanttohearexithermouth.“Thewomanisinmyfrontyard.”
IhearthesqueakofachairandimagineMabelsnappingherEZBoyreclinershut,sittingboltupright.“Noah,tellmenow,areyoudrunk?It’sfineifyouare,I’mnotthejudgytype,youknowthis.I’vesaidmanyofmybestprayerstotheGoodLordafteranightwithJackDaniel’s,butIneedforyoutocallJamesoroneofyoursisterswhenyou’redrunk,not—”
She’llgoonandonifIdon’tstopher.“Mabel,awoman’scarbrokedowninmyfrontyardandtheengineissmokingbutshe’sscaredtogetoutbecauseshethinksI’mgoingtohurther.Ineedforyoutoactasmycharacterreferencesoshe’llgetherassoutofthere.”Iwouldcalloneofmysistersbuttheywoulddefinitelysaysomethingoff-colorabouthowlongit’sbeensinceI’vesleptwithanyoneandthenaskthewomanwhatherrelationshipstatusis.Definitelynotcallingthem.Definitelydon’tcarewhatthatwoman’srelationshipstatusis.
“Oh,well,baby,whydidn’tyousayso!Getoutthereandletmetalktothepoorgirl!”IhearatwinkleofexcitementinMabel’svoicethatIdon’tappreciateorwanttoencourage.Thiswholetownhasbeenonmybacklatelytogivedatinganothertry,butI’mnotinterested.Iwishthey’dleavemealoneaboutitandletmeliveinpeace,butthat’snottheirstyle.AndnowthatIthinkaboutit,I’mnotsocertainMabelwon’tsaysomethingsimilartowhatmysisterswouldsay.
Ipeekthroughtheblindsagainandseethewomanfanningherselfaggressivelywithherhand.Iswear,ifIhavetocallaparamedicandspendthewholenightinthehospitallosingsleepwiththisstrangewomanbecauseshegaveherselfheatstrokeoutthere,I’llneveropenmyfrontdooragain.I’monemorewomanwreckingmylifeawayfromboardingupallmywindowsandturningintoahermitthatyellsprofanitiesatChristmascarolers.
“Don’tgetanyideas,Mabel.Thisisn’taromanticthing.Ijustdon’twanthertodieintheheatoutthere.”
“Mm-hmm.Isshepretty?”
Ipinchthebridgeofmynoseandshutmyeyesagainsttheannoyancebuildingupmyspine.“It’spitch-blackoutside.HowwouldIknowthat?”
“Oh,please.Iaskedyouaquestion.Iexpectananswer.”
Igroan.“Yes.”Sodamnpretty.Ionlygotabrieflookatherwithmyflashlight,butwhatIsawhadmedoingadoubletake.Shehaddarkhairpiledinabunonherhead,aprettysmile,thicklashes,andsharpblueeyes.Theoddthingis,IfeellikeI’vemethereventhoughI’veneverseenhercarintownbefore.Itmusthavebeenoneofthoseweirdinstancesofdéjàvu.
“Wellthen,”shesayswithapleasedsigh.“Takemeouttoourfairbeauty.”
“Mabel…”IuseawarningtoneasIopenthefrontdoorandstepoutside.Thesummerheatimmediatelythreatenstostrangleme,andIwonderhowthewomanhassurvivedthislonginhercarwiththewindowsrolledupandnoair-conditioning.
“Oh,hush!It’snoteverydayawomanisdroppedintoyourlaplikethis,sozipyourlipsandhandthephoneover.”ThisiswhatIgetforlivinginRome,Kentucky,mostofmylife.MyneighborsstilltreatmeliketheboywhoranthroughtowninhisSupermanunderwear.
Leavingthefrontdoorcrackedsothephonecorddoesn’tgetpinched,Iwalkthroughtheyardtowardthelittlewhitecar.It’stoodarkoutheretoseeherfeatureswithoutshiningtheflashlightatheragain,butIdoseethesilhouetteofherfaceturnmyway.Andthensheimmediatelythrowsherseatback.She’stryingtotrickmeintobelievingshe’snotinthere.Irefusetosmileattheridiculousnessofit.
WhenIknockonthewindow,shescreeches.Jumpy.
“Hey…”You?Woman?Ladycurrentlykillingthegrassinmyyard?“Uh…Here.Thisisafriendofmineonthephone.She’sgoingtoactasmycharacterreferencesoyoucanfeelsafetogetoutofyourcar.”
Theladypullstheleveronherseatandthewholethingcomesflyingup.SheyelpsandIhavetobitetheinsideofmycheeks.Herbigeyespeerupatmethroughtheglass,andunfortunately,there’snotenoughlighttofigureouthowIknowher,butnowI’mconvincedIdo.
Shefrowns.“Howdoyouhavecellservicerightnow?”
“Idon’t.”Iraisethephoneupsoshecanseeit.
Hereyesdroptoitandshelaughs.“Whatisthat?!”
You’dthinkIwasholdingararespeciesofanimalbythewayshe’sgapingandlaughing.“It’sgenerallycalledatelephone.”
“Yes,but…”Shepausestoletoutanotherdelightedlaughandthesoundcurlsaroundmelikeacoolbreeze.“Didyoustealitfromthemuseumof1950shistory?Nowthemannequinwiththeblueginghamprintdressandmatchingheadbandwon’treceiveherhusband’scallsayinghe’llbelatefordinner!Ohmygosh,thatcordhastobefiftyfeetlong!”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Areyougoingtorolldownyourwindowornot,SmartMouth?”
Hereyebrowslift.“Didyoujustcallme…SmartMouth?”
“Yes.”AndIwon’tapologizeforit.I’mnottryingtomakefriendswithherormakeherfeelcozy—besidessheinsultedmyphone.Ilovemyphone.It’sagoodphone.
Oddly,herfacesplitsintoafull,gorgeoussmileandshelaughs.Itmakesmystomachtighten,andmyheartthumpangrily.Itellthembothtoshutupandbehave.Iwillnotbemovedbyanotherwomanpassingthroughmytown.I’mgoingtohelphertonightbecause(1)it’stherightthingtodo;(2)soshedoesn’tdieinmyfrontyard;and(3)soIcangetherthehellonherwayagain.
“Well,okay,then.”ShecracksthewindowonlyabouttwoinchessoIcanslipthephonein.Ourfingersbrushintheexchangeandmywholebodyreactstoitbecauseapparentlyitwasn’tlisteningtothethreateningspeechIgaveitaminuteago.ThewomanwhipsthephoneintothecarandzipsherwindowbackupbeforeIcanslideapitchforkinandimpaleher.
Sheeyesthephonewarilybeforeraisingittoherear.“Hello?”
ImmediatelyIcantellthatMabeltakesoverbecausethewoman’seyesgrowtwicetheirsizeandshelistenswithraptattention.Fiveminuteslater,beadsofsweatarerollingdownthebackofmyneckasIleanwithfoldedarmsagainstthehoodofhercar,waitingforSmartMouthtofinishlaughingherassoffwithMabel.
“Hedidn’t!”shesayspracticallyhowlingandnowIknowit’stimetotakethephoneback.Igotoherdoor,knockingagainstherwindow.“Time’sup.Areyougettingoutornot?”
SheholdsupafingertomeandfinisheswithMabel.“Uh-huh…uh-huh…yeah.Okay,itwasgreattalkingwithyou,too!”
Ihavetobackupwhen,surprise,surprise,thewomanopensthecardoorandstepsout,handingmebackmyphone.Atherfullheight,shecomestomychin,buthermessybrunettebunstandstoaboutthetopofmyhead.Idon’twanttoadmitit,butshe’scute—classy.She’swearinganavy-and-white-stripedT-shirttuckedintowhite,old-timey-lookingshorts.They’rethekindthatclimbhighonherpetitewaist,hugthesoftcurveofherhips,andcutoffhighonherthighs.Shebelongsonasailboatinablack-and-whitephoto—notfromaroundhere,that’sfordamnsure.She’llbegoneintheblinkofaneye,sothere’snouselettingmyselfadmireherlooks.
Sheturnsherfaceuptome,buthergazebouncesnervouslybackandforthbetweenmeandmyhouse.“Yourfriend,Mrs.Mabel,gaveyouaglowingrecommendation,NoahWalker.”Shesaysmynamewithagreedyemphasis,gloatingthatsheknowsmynamebutIdon’tknowhers.
“Super,I’msorelieved.”MytoneistheSaharaDesert.Icrossmyarms.“Andyouare?”
Whatevereaseshewasstartingtofeelvanishes,andshetakesonelargestepaway,anxioustocrawlrightbackintothatdeathtrap.“Whydoyouneedtoknowmyname?”
“MostlysoIcanknowwhotochargeformygrassseedbill.”Idon’tmeanforittocomeoffasfriendlyorjokey,butsheseemstotakeitthatway.
Shesmilesandrelaxesagain.I’mnotsosureIwanthertofeelrelaxed.Infact,Ihaveastrongurgetotellhernottogetcomfyatall.
“Tellyouwhat,”shesayswithasparklingsmileofcamaraderiethatIdon’treturn.“I’llleavesomecashonthecounterforyouinthemorning.”Inthegapingsilencethatfollowsherstatement,Iliftaneyebrowandshefinallyhearswhatshe’sjustsaid.“Oh!No.Ididn’tmean—Idon’tthinkyou’rea…notaprostitute.”Shewinces.“Nottosayyoucan’tbeaprostituteifyou—”
Iholdupahand.“I’llstopyouthere.”
“Thankgoodness,”shewhispers,droppinghergazewhilerunningherfingersoverhertemples.Whothehellisthiswoman?Whyisshedrivingthroughmybackwoodstowninthemiddleofthenight?She’sjumpy.She’sanervouschatterbox,andshegivesofftheimpressionofawomanontherun.
“Youcanstayinmyguestroomtonight,ifyouwant.There’salockonthebedroomdoorsoyoucanfeelsafewhileyousleep…Unlessthere’ssomeoneyoucancalltonightwhowillbeabletocomegetyou?”
“No,”shesaysquickly.Ican’treadthelookonherface.It’sguardedanddefiantatthesametime,anddammit,Iwishtherewasmorelightouthere.There’ssomethingmybrainistryingtoputtogetheraboutherbutIcan’tquitemakeitout.
“I…”Shehesitates,likeshe’slookingfortherightwords.“Iwasactuallyheadedtostayatabed-and-breakfastnearhereforsometimeawayfromwork.So…asstrangeasitis,IthinkIwilltakeyouupontheuseofyourguestroomtonightandthentomorrowIcancalltohavemycartowedsomewheretogetitfixed?”Whydoesshephraseitlikeaquestion?Asifshe’swaitingformetoconfirmthat’sagoodidea.
“Sure,”IsaywithashrugthatconveysIdon’tcarewhatherplansareaslongastheydon’tincludemedoinganythingelseforher.
Shenodsonce.“Okay,then.Yep…let’s…seeyourhouse,NoahWalker.”
Afewminuteslater,afterhelpinghergetabagoutofhertrunkandcarryingituptomyfrontdoor,Istepinsidemyhouseandholdthedooropenforhertowalkthrough.Whenshepassesme,hersoft,sweetsmellslipsundermynose.It’ssooppositeofmyme-scentedhomeitscramblesmybrainforasecond.IttakesabigeraserandsmudgesovermyusualI’mhappybeingalonethoughtsanddoodlesinobnoxiouslittlehearts.
Shehesitateswithherbacktome,takinginmylivingroom.It’snotmuch,butatleastIknowit’snotgarbage,either.MysistershelpedmefurnishthehouseafterIrenovatedit,sayingIneededaTraditionalFarmhousedecorstyle,whateverthehellthatmeans.AllIknowisnowIhavesomerustic,wooden-lookingshitthatcostmealotofmoneyandabigwhitecomfycouchthatIrarelyusebecauseIprefertheleatherchairinmyroom.It’shomey,though.I’mgladtheyconvincedmetodoitanddidn’tletmekeeplivinglikeamiserablebachelorwhenImovedbackhere.
Myeyestrailfrommycouchtothelittlewispsofdarkhairclingingtobeadsofsweatatthebackofherneck.Andthenasifshecanfeelmygazeonher,sheturnssharply.Hereyescollidewithmine,andmystomachdropsoffacliff.Itmakessensenowwhyshewouldn’ttellmehername.Whyshedidn’twanttogetoutofhercar.Whyshelookslikeshe’sbeenstandingonpinsandneedlesthiswholetime.IknowexactlywhoSmartMouthis,andanyprayersMabeliscurrentlysendinguptoheavenaregoingtowastebecauseIwillabsolutelynotbelettingmyselfformanyattachmentstothiswoman.
“You’reRaeRose.”Chapter3Amelia
“No,I’mnot!”Isayquickly—panicky—withdartingeyesthatmakemelooklikeasquirreltryingtoprotectapreciousacornsecret.Iwanttostuffthatsecretintomycheeksandrun.
Hedoesn’tflinch.“Yes.Youare.”
“Nope.”Igiveaseriousshakeofmyhead.“Idon’teven—whoisthatsinger,anyway?”Idon’tquitemakeeyecontactwithhim.I’mnotacoward—I’mjustnotparticularlycourageous.
“Neversaidshewasasinger.”
Iscrunchmynose.LookslikeWildernessKenhasmecornered.
“Okay.You’reright.It’sme,”Isay,lettingmyhandsriseandthenfallbacktomysides.Irefrainfromtackingonadejectedandangsty,Nowwhatdoyouwant?ButIcan’tsaythatbecauseRaeRoseisneverrudetofans.
Iwasthrilledwhenhelookedatmyfaceoutsideanddidn’tseemtoknowwhoIam.Itwasastrokeofgoodluckthatmademefeelasifmaybethisadventurewasn’tacompletelyterribleidea.NowI’mbacktodoom,gloom,andterror.Don’tgetmewrong,Ilovefans,andIlovegettingtoknowthem.IjustpreferforourintroductionstohappenwhenIhaveasecurityteamaroundandnotwhenI’maloneinthemiddleofthenightwiththissomewhere-over-six-footman.
Andnowthisisthepointwherefanseitherpretendtheyknowverylittleaboutme,butIcatchthemstaringateveryturn,ortheystartflippingoutandcryingandhavingmesignrandomstuff.SometimesI’maskedtocalltheirmomortheirbestfriend.Takeapicture.Justsomethingthatletsthemprovetotheirfriendsthattheyreallymetme.MaybeIcouldjustgoaheadandpreemptivelyofferhimatrade:oneVIPticketinexchangefornotmurderingmetonight?Seemslikeagooddealtome.
IstepbackintomyRaeRoseskin.It’ssofter,gentler—moreregalthanmine.RaeRoseiseveryone’sbestfriend.She’spliableandeasytolove.“Well,sincethecatisoutofthebag,I’dliketoofferyouaVIPbackstagetickettoanupcomingconcertinexchangeforlettingmestayhere,aswellasfinancialcompensation,ofcourse.”
IlookintoNoah’seyes.They’rebrightgreen.Startling,sharp,andalmostunnaturalintheirintensity.They’renearlytheexactcolorasthestripesonawintergreenpeppermintcandy.Pairthoseeyeswiththestrongsetofhisscruffyjawandthesternpinchofhiseyebrows—andtheeffectis…unnerving.Butoddly,notinafrighteningway.
Withhisarmsstillcrossed,heraisesandlowersashoulder.“WhywouldIwantaVIPticket?”
That’snotaquestionIwasexpecting.Iflounder,andwhenIspeak,it’sabumpydelivery.“Umm…because…you’reafan?”
“AlsoneversaidIwasafan.”
Right.Wow.Okay.
Silencedropsbetweenuslikeagrenade.Hedoesn’tfeelcompelledtosayanythingelseandI’muncertainofwhattosay,sowejuststare.ProprietytellsmeIshouldfeelupsetrightnow.Offendedeven.Curiously,I’mnot.Infact,there’sagiddysortofsensationbuildinginmystomach.Itmakesmewanttolaugh.
Wewatcheachothercloselyforalongmoment,chestsinflatinganddeflatinginaperfectlymirroredrhythm.IknowwhyI’mcautiouslytakinghimin,butwhatIcan’tfigureoutiswhyhelookssoconcerned.AsifI’mabouttosnatchhisthrowpillowsandlampsandrunawaywiththeminthenight.ThePillowBanditontherun.
Okay,sohedoesn’twanttocometomyconcert,butsurelyheknowsIcanaffordmyownthrowpillows?
ThelongerIstandhereandwatchhisflexingjawline,Igetthedistinctfeelingthathe’snotonlyNotAFan,he’stheopposite.ThenormalglowingadorationIseeinpeople’seyesisreplacedwithannoyanceinhis.Justlookatthatdeepcreasebetweenhisbrows.It’ssurly.Grumpy.Agitated.
Idon’tsuspecthe’sgoingtohurtme,butheseemstohavealowopinionofme.Maybeit’sbecauseIparkedonhisgrass.Maybeit’ssomethingelse.Eitherway,it’sabsolutelyandwonderfullynewforme,andbecauseit’slateandI’mslightlyhysterical,Idecidetopresshisbuttons.
Imimichispose.“Iseewhatitis.Aticket’snotgoodenough?”Igivehimasmilelikewe’reinonhissecrettogether.“Youwantmetothrowinasignedposter,too,don’tyou?”Iwigglemyeyebrows.There’snopartofmethatbelieveshewantsaposter.
Heblinks.
“TwoVIPticketsandasignedposter?Wow.Youdriveahardbargain,butI’llcomplyformybiggestfan.”
Hisfacedoesn’tchangeabit,butsomethinginhisfierceeyessparkles.Ithinkhewantstosmilebutwon’tlethimself.Sometimespeopledecidenottolikemeforthemostarbitraryreasons.Sometimesit’sjustbecauseI’mfamous,andsuccessfulpeoplemakethemuncomfortable.Sometimesit’sbecauseIvoteddifferentlythanthem.Andsometimesit’sbecauseIfrownedoutsidetheirfavoriteyogurtshopandnowtheywanttocancelmeforeverbecausetheythinkI’magainstyogurt.Ican’thelpbutwonderifI’vefoundoneofthoseverypeople.Usuallymyveryelaboratesecuritydetailisaroundtoprotectme,butthere’snoonestandingbetweenmeandNoahrightnow,andIcan’tsayIhateit.Athrillzapsitswaythroughmyveins.
Noahshakeshisheadlightlyandlooksdowntopickupmybagagain.He’sdonewiththisconversation.
“Followme,”hesays.
Twowords.Acommand.Noonecommandsmeanymore—oh,theystilltellmewhattodo,buttheyphraseitsothatitsoundslikeit’smyidea.Rae,youmustbeexhausted.Theguestroomisrightdownthathallway,perhapsitwouldbenicetogoontobednowandgetsomerest?
NoahWalkeristooconfidentformanipulation.Followme.
Hetakesmybagwithhimdownahallwayoffthefoyeranddisappearsintoabedroom.Iwanttowanderaroundalittle,butmostofthehouseisdark,anditseemslikeinvadingsomeone’shomeandflippingonlights,openingsomecupboardsanddiggingaroundmightbeaweirdthingtodo.SoIsettleforwalkingdownthehallwayafterNoahjustasheinstructed.Followme.
IstopwhenIgettotworoomsoppositeeachotherinthehallway.Onedoorisshut,andoneisnot.Intheopenroom,Ifindmybagsittingonthefloor,andNoahparachutingafreshwhitesheetontoaqueen-sizebed.
Iwatchhiminthedoorwayforaminutefeelingverydreamlike.Iranawayfrommylifeoffametoday,andnowI’mstandinginastrangeman’shousewatchinghimmakeupabedformeeventhoughhedislikesme.Hisactionsareasmuchaparadoxasthatbuttersoftsheetistohisscruffyjawline.Susanwouldundoubtedlyatthismomenttellmetogetoutofthishouseimmediatelyandgosomewheresafer.
“Noah,”Isay,leaningmyshoulderagainstthedoorframe.“Howdoyoufeelaboutyogurt?”
Hepausesandsendsalookoverhisshoulderatme.“Yogurt?”
“Mm-hmm.Doyoulikeit?”
Heturnshisattentionbacktothesheets.“Why?AreyougoingtooffertothrowinatubofyogurtwiththeticketsandposterandmoneyifIsayyes?”
Aha!Thereishumorunderthatannoyance.Ithoughtso.
“Maybe.”Ismileeventhoughhe’snotlookingatme.
“Well,don’t.Idon’twantyogurtortheotherstuff.”
ItakeabigfatSharpieandmarkoffAngrybecauseofyogurtshoppicture
Noahspreadsawell-lovedpatchworkquiltontothebed.Itlookslikeit’sbeenpasseddownthroughseveralgenerationsoflovingfamilymembers.Myhearttugsandtwiststogetawayfromthefeelingsthesightofthatquiltevokesinme.Iwonderifmymomevenreadmytextmessageearlier.
“CanIhelp?”Iask,takingadaringstepintothesamecageasthebear.
Heglancesoverhisshoulderagainandwhenhiseyeslandonme,hisfrowndeepens.Heturnsbacktowardthebedandbeginstuckingthetopsheetunderthemattress.Idon’ttellhimI’llimmediatelyuntuckitbeforeIgetin.“Nope.”
Iwasreachingforacornerofthequilt,butwhenhissingle-syllableanswerbarksatme,Iraisemyhandsandtakeastepaway.“Okay.”
Noah’seyesbouncetomyliftedhandsandforafractionofasecond,Iseehimsoften.“Thankyou.Butno.”Andthenwefallintosilenceagain.
I’vedonehundredsofpresseventsoverthepasttenyears,interactedwiththousandsandthousandsoffansduringmeetandgreets.WasliveonJimmyFallonjustlastmonthwhereIsanganad-libbedsonginfrontofastudioaudiencewithoutamoment’shesitation.Andyet,standinginfrontofNoahWalker,I’mnotatallsurewhattosay.ButIdon’tfeellikebeingpolite.Orgracious.Thatthrillpulsesharder.
IhoversomewherebetweenthedoorandthebedsoIdon’tgetinhisway,watchingashesilentlyretrievesapillowandslidesapillowcaseontoit.Thisisallsonormal,anddomestic,anditfeelswildlyoutofplacetobesharingitwithastrangerwhodoesn’tlikeme.
Iglancearoundtheroomandthenovermyshoulderandregisterthecloseddooracrossthehall.Suddenly,athoughtstrikesme.IsNoahmarried?Maybethat’swhyhe’sbeingsopricklyandstandoffish?Hedoesn’twantmetogetanyfunnyideas.He’sseenamovie,orthecoversoftabloids,andassumesallofusfamoustypesareamoroushome-wreckers.
Iclearmythroat,tryingtofindtherightseguetolethimknowIwon’tbetryingtojumphisbonestonight.“So,uh—Noah.Doyouhavea…specialsomeone?”
Hiseyesdartinmydirectionandnowhelooksconsiderablyagitated.“Isthatyourwayofaskingmeout?”
Idoahypotheticalspittake.“What?No!Ijust…”IhavezeroamountsofNormalleftinsidemetogivetonight.Iwastryingtoputhimatease,andsomehow,I’vemanagedtomakeitworseaswellasapparentthatIdon’tknowwhattodowithmyhands.IwavethembackandforthlikeaT.rextryingtolandaplane.“No.IjustwantedtomakesurebeforeIspendthenightherethatI’mnot…steppingonanyone’stoes.”Igrimace.It’sgettingworse.“Gahhh,Idon’tmeansteppingontheirtoesbecauseI’mspendingthenightwithyou.IknowI’mgoingtobesleepinginherealone.I’mnotreallyintoone-nightstandsanywaysbecausethey’realwayssoawkward…”
Ohnooooo.I’msayingtoomuch.Iofficiallyenteredsexintoaconversationforthesecondtimetonightwithastrangerwhodoesn’tlikeme.I’mabsolutelyfloundering,andIneverflounder.
Noahsetsthefreshlycasedpillowontothebedandfinallyturnstofaceme.Wordlessly,hewalkscloser.Ihavetotipmychinup,up,uptoseehim.He’snotsmiling,buthe’snotfrowning,either.He’stheUnreadableMan.“Iamsingle,butI’malsonotonthemarket.”
Hecontinuestostandthereasmyfaceturnshotaslavaandmeltsrightoffmycheekbones.Thatwasthesoftest,mostpoliteletdownI’veeverreceivedinmyentirelife,andIwasn’tevenaskinghimout.
Thankgoodnessnoneofthismatters.I’llleavetomorrowmorning,findtheBandB,andWildernessKenwillneverhavetobeannoyedwithmeagain.
Butthenwhyishestillstandinginfrontofmelikethis?WhydoIfeelaninstantconnectiontohim?There’ssomethinginsideme,tuggingmeclosertohim,beggingmetoraisemyhandtohischestandrunmyhandoverhissoftcottontee.He’snotmoving.I’mnotmoving.
Noah’sexpressionsuddenlyturnsawkwardandhegesturestowardthedoorwaythatIdidn’trealizeIhadsunkbackinto.“Ican’tgetthroughwithyoustandingthere.”
Oh.
OH!
Polite,polite,polite.“Yes!Sosorry!I’lljust…move.”HissolemnexpressiondoesnotcrackasIstepasideandgesturedramaticallytowardhisexit.
“Drinkingglassesareinthecupboardbesidethesinkinthekitchenifyouneedwater.Bathroomisattheendofthehall.I’mheadedtobed.Feelfreetolockyourdoor,IknowIwill.”
“Smartmove.Wouldn’twanttoletthePillowBanditstrike,”Isay,feelingthatthrillsurgeonceagainaftersayingexactlywhatIwant—untetheredandwithoutfilter.
Maybe…justmaybethisadventurewasn’tamistakeafterall.Chapter4Noah
Ithrowonmysunglassesandbaseballhatandholdmycoffeelikeashield.I’mgoingtoneedtheaddedprotectionformywalkfromthecommunaltownparkinglottotheshop.It’sonlyaboutafive-minutewalkdownMainStreet,butthat’splentyoftimetorunintoeverysingleoneofthosedamntownsfolk.Doesn’tmatterthatRaeRosehasonlybeeninmyhouseforninehours.That’seightmorehoursthannecessaryforMabeltohavecalledeverypersonsheknowsandstartedthemostincrediblegameoftelephoneanyonehaseverseen.Atleastthismeansbusinesswillbeboomingtoday.Everyoneisgoingtowantapiewithaheavysideofgossip.
That’stheproblemwithlivinginthehometownyougrewupin.Theyrememberthetimeyousang“Mary,DidYouKnow?”inthechurchchoirwearinganugly-asssweatervestatageseven,andwhenthesheriffgotcalledonyouandyourhighschoolgirlfriendforfoggingupthewindowsofyourtruckbythelake.Andtheysureashellneverforgetwhenyourfiancéebrokeyourheart.Sowhenawomanisrumoredtohavesleptinyourhouse—aprettyonenoless—there’snowaythey’regoingtoletmehaveanypeace.Thesepeopleforgetabsolutelynothingandtheycouldn’tbemoreinvestedinmyromanticlifeifitwereadaytimeTVshow.
I’dprobablycloseuptheshopforthedayandgofishinginsteadofsendingmyselfrightintothebellyofthebeast(akathetownsquare)ifthiswasn’tadeliverymorning.ButJames,afriendofminewhoownsalocalfarmandprovidesallmyfreshingredients,willbedroppingoffseveralcratesfullofproduce,eggs,andmilk,andIneedtobetheretoreceiveit.
Ifyouwould’vetoldmeI’dbelivinginthistownattheageofthirty-twoandrunningapieshop(creativelynamedThePieShop)thatmygrandmalefttome,I’dhavethoughtyouwereoutofyourdamnmind.EspeciallyaftermovingeverythingIownedtoNewYorkwithMerritt,planningoutourlifetogetherthereandtryingtodroprootsintoaplacewhereIonlyfeltlikeapieceofdriftwoodintheoceanforanentireyear.ButhereIam—backhomeandlivingalifeIneversawcoming,andlovingthehelloutofit.
Well,forthemostpart.Icoulddowithoutallthesenosypeoplekickingupdustaroundmylifeallday.
Andherewego.Passobstaclenumberone:Phil’sHardware.AsIapproach,IcanseethatPhilandhisbusinesspartner,Todd,arestandingoutsidepretendingtosweepandcleanthefrontglasseventhoughtheyhirePhil’sgrandsontodoexactlythosetwojobsafterschool.
TheypausewhenIgetclose,franticallymurmuringsomethingundertheirbreathIcan’thear,andthenactasifthey’resurprisedtoseemeeventhoughIwalkbyhereatthisexacttimeeachday.
“Whew!It’sahotonewe’rehavingtoday,isn’tit,Noah?”
“Sametemperatureasyesterday,Phil,”Isay,beforetakingasipofmycoffee.Idon’tstopwalking.
Philblinksahundredtimesandlooksaroundforsomeconversationalgeniustostrikehimthatwillsnagmyattention.Hecan’tcomeupwithanythingsoToddtrieshishand.“Maybetheheatwillbringinsomenewcustomersforyou?Someout-of-towners,perhaps?”
“Heatusuallymakeyoucravepie,Todd?Mightwanttoseethedocaboutthat.Seemsoddtome.”IkeepwalkingandraiseahandovermyshoulderafterI’vepassedtheminlieuofapartinggreeting.They’reluckyIdidn’tthrowupthebirdinstead.
Now,obstaclenumbertwo:Harriet’sMarket.Ipullmyhatalittlelowerovermyeyesbecauseifthere’sanyoneIreallydon’twanttoseetoday,it’sHarriet.Thatwomanisruthless.Ipassunderherblue-and-white-stripedawningandthinkI’mintheclearuntilhershopdoorchimes.Iwinceandconsiderspeedwalkingaway,butit’stoolate.I’mcaught.
Shecutsrighttothechase.“NoahWalker,don’tthinkIdidn’thearyouhadawomanstayingoverlastnight.”IhavenochoicebuttotakeafortifyingbreathandturnaroundtofaceHarriet.Herhandsareperchedonherslenderhips,asevereglareonherface,addingnewfrownlinestotheonesalreadypresent.Thecheeryyellowsundressshe’swearingdoesn’tmatchherpersonality.Harrietkeepshersalt-and-pepperhairtiedbackintoatightbun.It’snotthatHarrietisgrumpybecauseshedoesn’tlikepeople—it’sthatshe’snearly100percentcertainshe’sbetterthanmostpeople.Whoknows,maybesheis.
“Inmyday,youngmenandwomenweren’tsointimatebeforetheyweremarried.Itleftalittlesomethingtotheimagination.Somethingtobedesired.”Shetiltsherheaddownsoshecanpurseherlipsandraiseherbrows.“Nowwhoisthiswomanyouspentthenightwithanddoyouplanonmarryingher?”
Thatescalatedquickly.
“Uh—no,ma’am.AndIdidn’tspendthenightwithher.Hercarbrokedowninmyyard,soIofferedupmyguestbedroomtoher.”Notthatit’sanyofyourbusinessiswhatI’dtellherifIwasn’tchickenshitandscaredtodeathofthiswoman.IliketosparwithMabel,butIhidefromHarriet.
Shewagsherfingerinmydirection.“Thenyoukeepyourhandstoyourself.Ifyoudon’tintendtowalkherdowntheaisle,thendon’tgodippingyourtoesinherpond.”
Igrimace.Notentirelysureifthat’ssupposedtobeaninnuendoornotbutgrossed-outallthesame.
“Don’tworry.I’mnotinterestedinher…pond.”
Yep.ThatfeltasdisgustingtosayasIthoughtitwould.Wonderful.NowIneedtofindawaytoboilmybraintoday.ThisisalsowhyIhavetogooutsidethecitylimitsifIwanttospendanytimewithawoman.Which,let’sbehonest,Ihaven’tdoneinalongtime.I’mnotreallytheone-night-standsortofguy,because,likeRaeRosepointedoutlastnight,one-nightersarealwayssortofawkward.Ifindthewholesituationaroundthemuncomfortable.IliketohaveanemotionalconnectionwithawomanbeforeIsleepwithherandit’sdamninconvenient.
Allthattosay,Idon’ttakeanywomenbacktomyplacebecausesomeone’salwaysoutwithbinocularsprowlingforgossipinthistown.HarrietwillfindoutandsendtheNazarenepreacherovertoknockonmydoorandremindmethatlustisoneofthesevendeadlysins.ExceptPastorBartonlovespieandwilleatnolessthanthreepieceswhilesermonizing.It’lltakeawholeafternoon.
Harrietnods,herscowlstilldeeplymarringthespacebetweenherbrows.“Well,good.Keepitthatway.”
Great,gladthat’sover.
“I’llhaveyourpeachpiereadyatclosingforyou.”It’sWednesdaysoIknowshe’llbebytopickituponherwaytoherknittinggroup.Iliftmycoffeeinsilentcheersandthenkeepwalking.
IpickupmypaceandmiraculouslydonotencounteranyoneelseasIpassthediner,andthentheflowershop(whichisrunbymyyoungestsister,whoI’msurewouldbeburstingoutanddemandinganswersifshewasn’toutoftowncurrentlywithmyothertwosisters),andfinallymakeittothefrontdoorofThePieShop.IshovemykeyinthelockeventhoughIcouldprobablyleavethethingwideopenatnightandnoonewouldevenconsidervandalizingorstealinganything.Infact,Philwouldprobablycomeinandfixthewobblybarstoolandthenlocktheplaceupformeonhiswayout.
Steppinginsidetheshopfeelslikeahug.Itmightnotlooklikemuchtoanyoneelse,buttome,it’shome.Thispieshophasbeeninmyfamilyfordecades.Verylittleaboutithaschangedovertheyears,whichI’mgratefulfor.Thesameblue-and-white-checkeredcurtainshangabovethedoublewindows.Thesamescratched-upwoodencountertopsitsbesidethepiecase.Ihadtoreplacethehigh-toptablethatsitsinfrontofthelargestorefrontwindowbecauseitwasdefinitelytheworseforwear,butImanagedtofindonethatwasnearlyanexactreplica.
Itaketenstepsintotheshop,liftthefoldingcountertop,walkthrough,andthenlatchitclosedbehindme.It,aswellasthedomed-glasspiecase,separatesthefronthalfofthestorefromthebackhalf.Andbacktherebehindmeisatinykitchenwheremymom,andmygrandma,andhermombeforeher,andhermombeforeherbakedourWalkerfamilypieswiththeirsecretrecipes.Butthat’sbasicallyit.It’ssmall,orquaint,orwhateveryouwanttocallit,butit’sallIneed.
Ispendthenextfewminutesgettingtheshopreadytoopen—turningonthegiantoven,brewingafreshpotofcoffeeforcustomers,wipingdownsurfaces.I’mjustpoppingatrayofpiesfromthefreezerintotheovenwhenthebackdooropensandJamesstepsinwithacratefullofapples.Likeme,hegrewupinthistownandtookoverhisfamily’sfarm.Wewenttoschooltogetherfrompreschoolallthewaythroughcommunitycollegewherewebothmajoredinbusiness.
“How’sitgoing,Noah?”
“Good.Howare—”
“Sowho’sthewoman?”hesays,settingdownthecrateandcrossinghisarms.
IpourmyselfafreshcupofcoffeebecauseIgetthefeelingtodaycouldbeaseveral-cupper.“Damn.Howdoyouknowabouther?It’sonlyeightinthemorning.”
Heshrugsashoulder.“MabelcalledaskingifIcouldseeanythingfrommyporch.”
Jamesistechnicallymyneighbor.Exceptourhousesareseparatedbyseveralacres.
Iraisemycoffeetomylipsandtakeasip.“Couldyou?”
“Nah—toofaroff.”
“Couldn’tfindyourbinoculars?”
“IthinkIlentthemtosomeone.”JameshelpshimselftoaStyrofoamto-gocupandfillsitwithcoffeebeforeleaningbackagainstthecounterlikehedoesn’thaveadamnthingtodoallday.Hecrossesonebootedfootovertheother.
“Youcomfy?”Iaskinanannoyedtone.“AnythingelseIcangetyou?Amagazine?Ablanket?Achair?”
“I’mgood,thankyou.”Hesmilesindulgently.WomenoftencallJamescharming.Icallhimapainintheass.“So…what’shername?”
Iactuallydon’tknowwhattheprotocolishere.Areyousupposedtotellpeopleifyouhavesomeonefamousinyourhouse?“Rae,”Isaywithadiscreetclearofmythroat.
“Lastname?”Heblowsonhiscoffeeandpeersatmeovertherimofhiscup.
IturnmyeyesuplikeI’mrackingmybrainfortheanswer.Likeit’snotbeenbuzzingthroughmyheadallmorning.Sittingonthetipofmytongue.Racingthroughmydreamslastnight.“Umm…IthinkitwasMind-Your-Own-Damn-Business.Don’tyouhavemorecratestounload?IknowIorderedmorethanthis.”
Ipickuptheapplesandcarrythemovertomywalk-inpantryandstartunloadingthemintobins.Myannoyingshadowfollows.“Whyareyoubeingsosecretive?”
“I’mnot.I’mjusttiredoftalkingtoyou.”
“Hmm,extrapricklytoday.Thiswomanmusthavegottenunderyourskin.Howlongisshestaying?”
Iturnaroundandbumphisshoulderonmywayoutofthepantry.“You’retheonegettingundermyskin.”
Ifhe’snotgoingtounloadthecrates,Iwill.Thistownismakingwaytoomuchoutofnothing.Sothere’sawomanatmyhouse?Bigdeal.She’snotstaying.Infact,I’mhopingshe’llbeoutoftherebythetimeIgethome.ThelastthingIneedissomeprivilegedpopstarrunningupmyelectricitybill.
IgooutintothebackalleyandpullacrateofeggsoffthebedofJames’struck.Iconsiderskimmingoneortwooffthetopandthrowingthemathisfrontwindshield.WhenIturnbacktowardtheshop,JamesisblockingthebackentrancelookingjustasmischievousaswhenwewerekidsandhetalkedmeintosneakingoutatnightsowecouldgoswimmingwiththeFremontgirls.Itwasagoodnight,though.
“JustgivemethedetailsandI’llleave.”
Iletoutadeepbreathanditescapesmorelikeagrowlthananexhale.“Fine.HernameisRaeRoseandhercarbrokedowninmyfrontyard.Ilethersleepinmyguestroomandthat’sit.Endofstory.”
HisbrowspulltogetherandIcanseethathe’stryingtoplacehername.He’sheardofher—everyonehas—soit’sonlyamatteroftimebeforeherealizesjustwhoisatmyhouse.Annnnndthereitis.Hiseyesgowideandhismouthdropsopen.“Youdon’tmeantotellmethat…”
Inod,finishinghissentenceforhim.“Theprincessofsoulfulpopisinmyhouserightnowbreathingupallmyboughtair.”
“Noshit!”AnewdawninglookthatIdon’tquitelikehitshim.Likehe’simaginingherface.Likehe’simagininghisnewprospects.Andthenhiseyesshifttomeandhislookchanges.“Ohhhh,nowIseewhat’supwiththesurlyattitude.”
“I’malwayssurly.”
He’ssmirkingnowlikeheunderstandseverythingaboutme.Heprobablydoes.Ihateit.“She’sgorgeousandtalentedandyoulikeher.Butshe’sanout-of-towner,andyou’retoojadedtoletyourselfeventalktoher.”
“Italkedtoherjustfine.Nowmove,”Isay,breezingpasthimandsettingdowntheeggs.Irunmyhandoversomepotsandpans,makingatonofnoisejustforthehellofit.Idon’tlikethathepickedmeapartsoeasily.
Unfortunately,Jamesisn’tscaredofmymoodsliketherestofthetown.“Man,you’rebeinganidiot.RaeRoseis…”Hetrailsoffwithanotherlookthatmakesmefeellikepunchingsomething.Orhim.“Anyway,it’sgottabelikeaoneinamillionchancethatshewouldbreakdowninyourfrontyard.Where’ssheheadedanyway?”
Iwishshe’ddroppedintohisfrontyardinsteadofmine.ClearlyheappreciatesthesituationmorethanIdo.“WhyshouldIcare?”
“Because…Idon’tknow.Maybeyou’dhaveashotwithher.”
“Idon’twantashotwithher.”
Hescoffsandrollshiseyes.“Man,comeon.Areyoujustnevergonnadateagain?Merrittmessedyouupthatbad?”
Iclenchmyjaw.“Don’ttalktomeabouther.”
Heignoresmythreat.“You’regonnahavetotryagaineventually.Whynotgoalloutandtrywithagorgeouscelebrity?”
WhatmakeshimthinkIwouldhaveashotwithawomanlikeher,anyway?Thistownisnuts.RaeRoseissofaroutofmyleagueshewouldn’tevengivemeasecondthought.
It’sclearthatJamesisnotgoingtostoppushingifIdon’tgivehimwhathewants.Soafterfillingmylungsasfullaspossible,Ipushthroughtheuncomfortablefeelingthatcomesalongwithsharinganyemotionalpartofmyselfandlookstraightathim.“I’lldateagainwhenI’mgoodandready.ButIsureashellwon’tbetryingwithanotherwomanwhoselifeexistsoutsideofthistown—becauseyouknowIcan’tgowithher.Andlet’ssaytheworldhasflippedupsidedownandshewasinterestedinapieshopownerfromKentucky;Idon’tcaretodateacelebrityandfindoutthroughatabloidthatshecheatedonme.”
Jamesgivesmeapityinglook.“Justbecause—”
“No,we’redonenow.”Iopenthebackdoortothekitchen,notsosubtlytellingJamestogetout.Hedoesn’tbudge.I’mgoingtohavetorentaforkliftforthedayandphysicallyscoophimoutofhere.“Willyouquitmakingthisouttobesomethingit’snot?She’llbeleavingjustassoonasTommytowshercartohisshopandthrowssomeoilinit.”IfI’mlucky,I’llneverevenhavetoseeheragain.It’swhatIshouldhavedonewhenMerrittpassedthroughtownallthoseyearsago—ignoredher.IleftRaeanoteonthekitchencounterthismorningwiththephonenumbertoTommy’sAutomotiveshop,hopingthatshe’dgeteverythingtakencareofbeforeIgethome.
“What’sshedoingrightnow?”heasks,andIsigh,slammingthedoorshutagainandgoingintothefridgeandunloadingthecartonofeggsintoit.
“Idon’tknow,James.Scrollingthroughallthelocalcablechannels?LikeIsaid,Idon’tcare.”
Hestepsupbesidemesohecanlookatmyprofile.“You’reanasshole,youknowthat,right?”
“Ihadahunch.”
Heshakeshisheadandrubsthebackofhisneck.“Yourgrandmawouldbeashamedofyourmanners.”
Okay,well,that’salowblowandheknowsit.Mygrandmaisstillmyfavoritepersonthateverlived.Eventheslightestthoughtofherbeingupsetatmemakesmyskinfeelitchy.
Inarrowmyeyesonhim.“Howdoyoufigure?Igavethewomanasafeplacetosleeplastnightandleftherwiththenumberofthelocalautomotiveshop.Justhowdoesthatmakemeshameful?”
“Youleftheraloneinarandomtowntofendforherselfinthemidstofstrangers.”
Iturnsharplytohim.“I’mastranger!”
Hewavesthatofflikeit’snotavalidpoint.“Youknowyoushould’vedonebetter.Imaginehowshe’sfeelingrightnow?Thatwomanisridiculouslyfamous.Ibetshe’sterrifiedtohavetogoanywherebyherselfifshedoesn’thaveabodyguard.”
Seemslikesomethingsheshouldhavethoughtaboutbeforeleavingherhousewithoutanysecurity.She’snotmyproblem.She’snot.Couldn’tbelessofmyproblem,infact.
James’sfaceshiftsintoanexpressionofcompleteanduttersmugness.Ittellsmewhateverhe’sabouttosaywilllandthefinalmatch-endingblow.“Howwouldyourgrandmahavetreatedherifshewerearound?”
Whatalittleshit.OfcoursemygrandmawouldsayIshoulddoeverythinginmypowertohelpRae.Shewouldalsoprobablysmackmeupsidethebackofmyheadfornotmakingherbreakfastthismorningandgivingheraridetothemechanic’ssoshedoesn’thavetorideinTommy’sgrosstowtruckwithhisnastydipinthecenterconsole.Andohman…thewarstories.He’llforsuretellhereverygorydetail.
Igroanandsnatchmykeysoffthecounter.“Getthepiesoutwhenthetimergoesoffandthenshutofftheoven.Lockuponyourwayout.”
“Uh…Ihaveajob,youknow?”hesaystomyretreatingback.
“Funny.Didn’tseemlikeitfiveminutesagowhenyouwerehelpingyourselftocoffeeandachat.”
Ihearhimchuckle.“Fine.ButI’mtakingapiewithmewhenIleave!”Chapter5Amelia
Turnsout,impulsivedecisionsreallydolookdifferentinthelightofday.Correction:notdifferent—bad.Theylookvery,verybad.
Iaminastrangehouse,inthemiddleofnowhere,withabroken-downcar,zerocellservice,andmyonlysomewhat-kind-of-friendishpersonleftmewithanoteexplainingwhotocalltogetmycarfixed,butnootherguidance.Iguessthat’sbetterthannothing.Thisisacompletelynewexperienceforme,though.UsuallyIhavestrangemenclimbingmygatetogetintomyhousewithme,notclearingoutbeforeI’mevenawakesotheydon’thavetoseeme.
“Okay,Amelia,youcandothis,”Isayoutloud,becauseitseemstalkingtomyselfismynewMO.ItiscompletelyridiculousthatIwouldbenervoustocallanautomotiveshop,butit’sbeenawhilesinceI’vedone…well,anythingformyself.IusuallyleaveallschedulinguptoSusanorClaire.Ihaven’tmadeasingleappointmentformyselfintenyears,andifthat’snotbadenough,Idon’tevendrivemyselftothem.
Famecameswiftlyforme.OnedayIwasnormal—ahighschoolstudentpostingavideoonYouTubeofmesingingoneofmyoriginalsongsatmypiano.Thenext,Iwasaninternetsensation.Iposteddailyvideosofmyoriginalsongsaswellaspopularcoversandpeoplewentnutsoverthem.Backthen,whentheterm“goingviral”wasstillnew,Ifeltlikeananomaly.EvenbeforeIeverreleasedaprofessionallyrecordedalbum,peopleknewwhoIwasfrommyYouTubechannel.Iwaspraisedformymaturesound—asoulfulvoicethatbelongedtoathirty-year-oldeventhoughIwasonlysixteen.
IremembergettingbookedforweddingsandspecialeventsfortwohundreddollarsandthinkingIwasfilthyrich.ButIdidn’tcareaboutthemoney.Itwasworthitjusttofinallyplaymymusicinfrontofothers.AndthenwhenIwasseventeenyearsold,amanager(Susan)reachedouttellingmeshethoughtIhadsomethingspecialandwantedtohelptakemycareertobigplaces.Andshewasright.Itallhappenedsofastafterthat.Susanhelpedmelandarecorddealthatmademeinternationallyfamous,andnothingcouldhaveeverpreparedmeforhowcompletelyitwouldchangemylife.Howitwouldruinmyrelationshipwithmymom.
Thosefirstfewyearswereprettythrilling,andmymomandIwerestillclose.Famewasdeliciouslysatisfying…untilitwasn’t.Igainedallthesecelebrityfriends,whoIquicklyrealizedwouldneverbeanythingmorethansurfacelevel.Youknow,thekindthataskshowareyou?andyousaygreat!evenifyourlifeisfallingapart.DefinitelynotthesortoffriendsyoucantextanSOSfromthebathroomataparty,admittingyouaccidentallycloggedthetoiletandneedagetawaycar.
Fromtheoutside,peoplewouldthinkIhaveitall.RaeRoseisstrong,talented,poised,andoh-so-successful.Sheownsanyroomshewalksintoandherconfidencebehindamicrophonewillmakeyourkneesbuckle.Theproblemis,evenIamnotRaeRose.Idon’trunmysocialmedia,Idon’tchoosemyoutfitsforeventsorinterviews,IwanttocallmymommorethananythingbutourrelationshipiscrapsoIdon’t,andmostofthestoriesItellontalkshowshavebeenfinelytunedandvettedbymyPRteamfirst.RaeisnothingbutacharacterIhidebehind,becauseIlearnedfromayoungagethatfakingconfidenceistheonlywaytomakeitthroughthisbusiness.
ButthemoretimesIhavetoputonthatfacadeeachday,themoreIfeelmyselfslippingaway.ImissAmelia.Imissthedayswhenplayingmusicandsingingwaswhatitwasallabout.Thesedays,I’mnothingbutamaxed-outcreditcardthateveryonekeepsswiping.
Andatthismoment,Iwouldtrademycelebrityconfidenceforbasicsocialskillsinaheartbeat.BecauseIhavetomakeasimplephonecallandmyhandisshaking.WhatdoIevensaywhenIcall?Ilifttheancientdinosaurphonefromthereceiver,andit’ssoheavyI’mgoingtocountitasmyupperbodyworkoutfortheday.Inmyotherhand,IclutchNoah’snotelikealifeline.Hishandwritingisbeautiful.Itracemythumbacrossthebubblyswoopsandslashesofeachletter,realizinghowrareitisforsomeonetowriteincursivethesedays.Somehow,theselettersperfectlymatchtheman.Intriguing.Commanding.Precise.Andyet…there’sasoftnesstothem.
WhenIbringmyselftostopfondlingNoah’snote,Isteelmyselfandpunchinthephonenumber.And,wow,that’sthemostsatisfyingthingI’veeverdone.Dopeopleknowtheseoldphonesaretheequivalentofafidgetpopper?Mysmartphoneisgoingtobeahorrificletdownafterusingthisthing.I’mmomentarilycalmedbythesesatisfyingbuttons,butwhenthelinestartsringing,myanxietyjumpsupagain.
WouldithavekilledNoahtogivemeatadmoredirection?Thisnote—howeverbeautifulandframeworthy—isseverelylacking.I’mtoldtoAskforTommy.He’lltowyourcarandfixitforagoodprice.Well,Ihatetosoundlikeasnob,butI’mnotexactlyworriedabouttheprice.Infact,I’dlovetopaythisTommyamilliondollarsifhe’llassuremeIwon’tbeabductedbyhimoranyoneelseinhisautomotiveshop.
Thephoneringsonemoretimebeforeamananswers.“Ello?Automuphinandsons.”
Huh?Whatdidthatmansay?Ididn’tunderstandasingleword.WasthatevenEnglish?Honestly,itsoundedlikeapileofjumbled-upwordsbeingeatenbyagarbagedisposal.AndthisisaprimeexampleofwhyIdon’tdophonecalls.Youneverknowwhatyou’regoingtogetontheotherend,andit’salmostneverapleasantexperience.
“Uh…hi…is…Tommythere?”Iask,glancingdownatthepapertomakesureIgotthenameright,eventhoughI’vereaditroughlytwentytimesnowandmightbepregnantwithitsbabiesduetoallthecaressing.
Iwincewhenthere’ssuddenlyloudbangingnoisesontheotherendoftheline,makingitevenhardertounderstandthemanwhenhegrumblesouthisresponse,whichhonestlysoundslike,“Uh-huh,you’reahonkingtable.”
Thatcan’tberight.
Acoldsweatbreaksoutovermyskin,andI’mabouttwosecondsawayfromlosingitintheformofepicwaterfalltears.Ifeellikeatoddlerlostinanamusementpark.Ican’tfindmywayandnothinglooksfamiliar.IhatethatI’mregrettingleavingNashville.IhatethatIcan’tstandonmyowntwofeet.AndIreallyhatethatIdon’tbelonganywhereanymore.
AndnowI’mshaking.MaybeI’mnotcutoutforthis.Maybeit’stimetoendthiscallanddialSusaninstead.I’llbeghertosendmeacar,orajet,orshecanevensendmeafreakingunicycleforallIcare.Icouldbehomebydinnertimelikenothingeverhappened.ButasIpicturemylifebackthere,aviseclampsdownonmychestandscrewstight.Ican’tgobackyet.Ican’tgiveuponwhateverI’mlookingforinthistownjustyet.
“Ello?”themansaysagain,soundingmoreimpatientthanbefore.
“Yes,I’mhere.Umm…I’mnotactuallysurewhatyousaidbut—”
Igaspwhenamalehandreachesaroundmyshouldertotakethephonefrommyhand.IwhirlaroundandfindmyselfstaringrightatNoah’smountainofachest.Ineverheardhimcomeintothehouse,andnowmyheartisnotjustracing,it’sshoutingandstompingindignantlyonmyribsjusttomakesureI’mpayingattention.Ormaybeit’stryingtofleemybodyandgettosaferground.
Myeyestiptoeuphisneck,andjaw,staggerslightlyoverhisfull,moodymouthuntilIsafelylandonhisgreeneyes.Heholdsmystareasheliftsthephonetohisear.“Tommy?Yeah,it’sNoah.Igotawomanherewhoneedsyoutopickuphercarandtowittotheshop.”Hepausesandlistens,eyesneverleavingmine.Theintense,unwaveringwayhelooksatmemakesmewanttosquirm.WhatanexcellentBuckinghampalaceguardhe’dbe.
Noahnods.“Mm-hmm.That’llwork.Thanks,Tommy.”
Heleansaroundmeandhischestbrushesdelicatefireacrossmyshoulder.TheclickofthephonelandingonthereceiverissostartlingagainstthedeadsilencethatIjumpalittle.IfeelreactivetoNoahinawayI’veneverexperiencedbefore.
“Thanks,”Isay,havingtopushmyvoiceoutfromunderathickcloudofsuddenattraction.“Ican’tbelieveyouunderstoodhim.”
Thecornerofhismouthtwitcheslikehewantstosmile,butwon’t.“Tommydips.Thatcombinedwithhisthickaccentmakeshimhardtounderstand.”
“Butyoudidn’thaveanytrouble.”
“?’CauseIgrewuphere.Ispeakdip.It’salanguageinandofitself.”
“Bilingual,”IstatewithalightchuckleandletmyeyesfalldownthesamepathItraversedamomentago.Nose,mouth,scruffyjaw,neck.WhenhisAdam’sapplebobs,IrealizeI’mstaring.Drooling.Idon’tmeanto,it’sjustthatthere’ssomethingdifferentabouthimthatturnsmeintoamagnet.It’smorethanthefactthathe’sridiculouslyattractive(and,hello,heis!),butthere’sthissoftgrit,thisdeliciousparadoxofruggedmasculinitythatmixeswithacomfynormalcythatmakesmewanttowrapmyselfupinthegraycottonT-shirthe’swearingandliveinitforever.Idon’tevenknowhimandIfeelsafe.Noahistheblanketfortyouusedtomakeandhideinasakid.Sowarmandreassuring.
Ithinkit’sthathe’ssodifferentfromthemenI’maroundinmyday-to-daylife.Theartisttypesthatareatalltimesworriedabouttheswoopoftheirhair—orinmylastboyfriend’scase,onlypayingattentiontomewhenwewereinpublicwhereeveryonecouldsee.
Therelationshipwasn’tnecessarilyfake—butitwassuggestedbyourmanagersas“agoodfitforbothofus.”Ihopeditcouldendupbeingsomethinggreat,butlikethehandfulofothernonseriousrelationshipsI’vehad,itwasultimatelyflat.Atwo-literbottleofsodathat’sbeenlidlessforaweek.
HewantedtopubliclydateRaeRose,ventureouttopartiesallthetime,spendenormousamountsofmoneyatrestaurants,andmilkourstardomtoitsfullest—alwaysmakingsurethepresswasaroundtocaptureour“completelycandidmomentsofaffection”sowewouldbeonthefrontpageofmagazinesasoftenaspossible.(Andbytheway,hewasaterriblekisser.Twooutoften,wouldnotrecommend.)
ImighthavebeenintothesortoflifestylehelivedwhenIwastwenty-oneandnotburnedoutbythelimelightyet,butnow,IjustwantsomeonetoplayScrabblewithmeandgetsnugglyinablanket.Inevercouldgethimtodothat,soIendeditprettyquickly,justlikealltheotherswhowereevenlessnotablethanhim.(Butatleastbetterkissers.)
Noneofthosemenfeltgenuine.Unlikethemanstandinginfrontofmerightnow
Noahclearshisthroatandstepsback.“Tommywillbehereatninetogetyourcar.He’lltakeittohisshopanddiagnoseit.”
Iswallowandnod,welcomingthecoolairthatreplacesNoah’sbodyheat.Etiquettenudgesme.“Great.Andthanksagain.I’msosorrytobeputtingyououtlikethis.I’dlovetorepayyou.”Polite,polite,polite.Atallcosts,Iamalwaysfaithfullypolite.
“Don’tworryaboutit”isallhesaysbeforetheroomdropsintosilenceagain,andIfeeljealousofhisabilitytojustsaythings.Hesaysonlythethingshewantsandnotasinglewordmore.
It’ssoquietIcanhearmyownbreathing.Mythoughtsknockaroundmyheadlikeaflyinajar.Ican’thelpbutwonderwherehewasthismorningandwhyhecameback?Hisnoteimpliedhewouldn’tbearoundtoday.Buthereheis.
Asdiscreetlyaspossible,Isizehimupandspeculateonwhatsortofjobamanlikehimwouldhave.He’swearingabaseballhatandaT-shirtthathangsappropriatelylooseoverhistorso,butstillsnugenougharoundhisshouldersandchestthatit’snotsloppyorbaggy.Hisjeansaresimpleyetstillstylish.Well-wornandslightlywhitewashedinareasthatmakemethinkthey’rehisfavoritepair.Onhisfeetarebrownworkboots.Buthere’sthecatch,they’renotrealworkboots.They’rethekindthattrendyguysweartocoffeeshopsinthecity.Interesting.
“You’resquintingatme,”hestates,makingmeblinkoutofmySherlockHolmesinvestigation.
Ifeelcompelledtoamomentofrarehonesty.“I’mtryingtofigureoutwhatamanlikeyoudoesforaliving.”
Heliftsabrowandcrosseshisarms.It’sasurlypose.“Amanlikeme?”
“Yeah,youknow…”Isay,daringtogivehimateasingsmile.“Allthemusclesandscruffandcommandingattitude.”
“And?”Histoneisclipped.Hedoesn’tfindmecharming.I’mthemostuncharmingpersonintheworldtohim,andIthinkIloveit.
“Andwhat?”
Hedropshisarms(nomoreSurlyPose)andturnsawaytogoopenacupboardandpulldownamixingbowl,leavingmelingeringnearthephonebecauseI’mnotsurewhereIshouldstandinhishouse.“What’syourguess?”hepromptsgently.
I’mtakenabackforasecondbecauseIdidn’tthinkhe’dplayalong.Hedoesn’tseemliketheplay-alongtype.Okay,then.Let’sdothis.
“Hmm.”Igivehimonemorethoroughandblatantperusal.Damn.Hisbodyisgood.Likereallygood.He’sgottobealittleoversixfoot(I’dsaythreeinchesoverifIhadtobet),withveinsextendingoutfromunderhisshortsleevesandwrappingdownhislong,leanbicepsandsturdyforearms.I’dsayhedoessomethingwithhishandsbasedonhisupperbodystrengthalone.Andsincehe’swearingahat,maybehisjobrequireshimtobeinthesunalot?Thegoldenhairlightlyflippingoutfromunderhishatlendsweighttomysuspicion.
“Arancher?”Iask,leavingmyphonefriendbehindtotakeoneofthestoolsontheoppositesideofthelittleislandwhereNoah’sbegunassemblingingredientsforsomething.
“Nope.”Hepullsacartonofbuttermilkandafeweggsoutofthefridge.
“Afarmer?”
Nextcomesbutter.“Wrong.”
“Okayyyyy.Thenyouownalawncareservice?”
Containersofflour,sugar,bakingpowder,andbakingsodaarethelasttofindtheirwaytothecounter.Noah’seyesglancebrieflyatmeandthenaway.“ShouldIbeoffendedyouhaven’tmentionedalawyerordoctoryet?”hesaysinadrytonethatsomehowstillconveyshumor.
Thattinyhintofteasinginhisvoiceisenoughincentiveformetotrytowinhimover.He’salittlegrumpy,there’sanedgetohimthatsayscareful,Imightbite,butthenhiseyeswhisperbutI’llbegentle.Whatamysteryheis.Thenagain,everythingisamysterytomelately.IfeellikeI’vewokenupfromacryogenicsleep,andsuddenly,I’mhavingtorelearnthisnewandevolvedworldaroundme.
“Idon’tknowmanylawyerswhowouldgotoworkinjeans.”Ileanmyelbowonthecounterandrestmychinonmypalm.
“That’sjustbecauseyouhaven’tmetLarryyet.”
Yet.Whydoesthatwordmakemystomachflip?
“Comeon,tellme.I’moutofguesses.”
Heshrugs,andafteraddingingredientstoabowlwithouteverusingameasuringtool,mixesitalltogether.Hisforearmflexesanddrawsmyeyetothesoftsprinkleofblondhairacrosshisskin.“Guessyou’llneverknow.”
Noahturnsaround,firesuphisgasstove,andmeltssomebutterinaskillet.NottostereotypebuthemoveswithwaymoreeasearoundthekitchenthanIwouldexpectfromsomeonethatlooksas…well…maleashedoes.Ikeepquiet,enjoyingthispuzzleofamanmorethanIshould.Hescoopsoutadollopofbatteranddropsitintoapan,andnowIrealizehe’smakingpancakes.Pancakesfromscratchandwithoutarecipe.
Ithitsme.
Igaspandpointathim.“Baker!You’reabaker,aren’tyou?”Heearnedthosedeliciousforearmsfromkneadingdough!
IcanonlyseeasliverofNoah’sfaceashetiltshishead,butit’senoughtocatchthehintofagrin.Ifeelthatgrininthetopsofmyears.Inthetipsofmytoes.Inthedepthsofmybelly.“Youguessedit,NancyDrew.Iownapieshop.”
Mymouthfallsopen.“Youdonot.”
“Ido.Somethingwrongwiththat?”
Sodefensive,thisone.
Shakingmyhead,IslideoffthestoolsoIcangoleanbackagainstthecountertopbesidethestove.Noahdoesn’tlookatme,buthecutshiseyestowheremypalmisplantedonthesurfacebesideme.Thinkingmaybeit’sinhisway,Icrossmyarmsinfrontofme.
“It’sgreat.Ijustdidn’texpectit.Notwithallyour…well…youknow.”Igesturetowardhismasculineformagainbecausemyawkwardshiphassailedandthere’snopullingherbackintoport.“Sowhat’syourfavoritepie?”
“Idon’tlikepie.”Hesaysitsodefinitively.
Iblinkathim.“Butyouownapieshop.”
“ProbablywhyIdon’tlikepie.”
Ishakemyheadfeelingdumbfounded.Moreparadox.HowwouldhefeelifItoldhimIdon’tlikesinging?Ilovetosing,though,sothatthought’sirrelevant.Or—atleast,IusedtolovesingingandI’mhopefulIwillagain.
“Soifyoudon’teatit,howdoyouknowifit’sgoodornot?”
“Iinheritedthepieshopfrommygrandma.It’sbeeninourfamilyforgenerations.Iusethesamefoolproofrecipestheyused.”Heglancesdownatmeandtakesinmycuriousfrown.“Haveyouneverlovedsomethingjustforwhatitmeanstoyou?”
First,I’mstunnedbecauseNoahdoesn’tstrikemeasthesentimentaltype.Butheownshisgrandma’spieshopsoclearlyI’mwrong.Two,yes,Iabsolutelyhave.AndhernameisAudreyHepburn.ImmediatelyI’mtransportedbacktothatnightwhenIwasthirteenandcouldn’tsleep.Ihadabaddreamandwokeupinacoldsweat,goingouttothelivingroomtofindmymom.Shewasanightowl(probablybecauseasasinglemom,thosefewhoursafterI’dgotobedweretheonlyonesshehadforherself),andIfoundhercurleduponthecouchwatchingamovie.
“Hi,sweetiepie,can’tsleep?”she’dasked,liftingtheedgeofherblanketsoIcouldcrawlunderandsnugglewithher.
“Ihadabaddream,”I’dsaid.
Shetuckedmeupclosetoherandwebothturnedourattentiontotheblack-and-whitemovieplayingontheTV.“Well,Ihavetheperfectcureforbaddreams.BreakfastatTiffany’s.AudreyHepburnalwaysmakesmefeelbetterwhenI’mupset.”
Together,we’dstayeduplatewatchingthatclassicmovie,andmymomwasright.Forthosefewhours,Ididn’tfeelscaredorsad.ItbecameatraditionforustowatchAudreyHepburnmoviestogetherwheneitherofuswashavingabadday.Exceptnow,IwatchthembymyselfbecauseourrelationshipfracturedalongtimeagoandIdon’tthinkit’lleverheal.
ButIcan’ttellNoahanyofthatbecauseit’stoopersonal.SoItakeapagefromhisbookandsimplysay,“Yeah.Ihave.”
Heacceptsmyanswerforwhatitisandflipsapancake.IhaveathousandquestionsIwanttoask—butjustlikelastnight,beingthisclosetohimtiesmytongue.Rightnow,hesmellslikecleanlaundry,masculinebodywash,andsweet,butterypancakes.It’stheperfectscent.
ThequietstretchesandI’mnoteagertointerruptit.Instead,Iwatchthebattersizzleandbubbleinthepan,wonderingwhenthelasttimeanyonefeltcomfortableenougharoundmetojustbequiet.It’sbeenyears.
“Youdon’tlikepancakes?”Noahsays,pullingmefrommythoughts.WhenIgivehimacuriouslook,headds,“Youwerefrowningattheskillet.”
IhavezerodesiretotellhimIwasfrowningatthethoughtofmymom,soIsidestep.“Uh…no.It’sonlythatIcan’teatthem.”
“Gluten?”
“Carbs.IhaveaverystrictdietIhavetoadhereto.Especiallyleadinguptomytourinafewweeks.MymanagerwillmurdermeifIcomehomewithanextrainchonmywaist.”IhaveseveralcostumesIneedtobeabletofitinto—andbelieveme,SusanwilltellmeifshethinksIlooktoolumpyinthem.Orshe’lltalktothechefwhomakesallmymealsfortheweek,andnotsosubtlyadjustthemenutoconsistofsmallerportionsandnothingdelicious.
“Okay,”hesays,scoopingthemostfluffy,golden-brownpancakeI’veeverseenoutoftheskilletandontoaplate.Hedropsanotherdollopintothepanandithisses.“Eggsthen?”
Inarrowmyeyesathim.“You’renotgoingtotrytoconvincemetoeatthepancakes?”
Thistimehelooksatme,confusedandintriguedallatonce.“No.ShouldI?”
“Iwassortofhopingforit.BecausethenIcouldtellmymanageryouaccusedmeofbeingrudebyrejectingyourhospitableoffer,andshe’dseeIwasleftwithnochoicebuttoeatthemorelseyou’dgoslandermetothepress.”
Heraisesabrow,flipsapancake.“Youneedyourmanager’sapprovaltoeat?”Ihearthechallengeinhisvoice.
Butmorethanthat,IhearthesimplicityofhisquestionandhoweasyitshouldbetosayNo,haha,ofcoursenot.Thatwouldberidiculous!Butholyshit,Ido.IthinkofhowmanytimesSusan’snamehascrossedmymindsinceIleftlastnightandIbegintowonderifshe’spartofwhateverproblemI’mhaving.HaveIletmyselfcompletelydeferalldecisionsregardingmylifetoher?
MyeyesfollowthespatulaasNoahliftsagoldenpancakeontothebeautifulstackhe’salreadymade.Itlookslikeapieceofart.Thatpancakeshouldhaveitsownsocialmediaaccountdevotedtonothingotherthanadoringitfromallangles.“So…”saysNoah.“Scrambledeggsforyou?”
WhenIdon’tanswerrightaway,Noahfinallylooksintomyeyes.Whenourgazesconnect,Ifeelthatsamethrillrunthroughmefromlastnight.It’sterrorandjoy.Hopeanddread.AllIknowis,itgivesmethepushIneedtotrustmyself.
“No.I’llhavepancakestoday.”Chapter6Noah
“Comeagain?”IaskTommyoverthephone,hopingIdidn’thearhimcorrectlythefirsttime.
“Ain’tgonnabedoneforatleasttwoweeks,”hesays,inhisusualjumbledway.Butthistime,I’muncomfortablysurethatIhearhimcorrectly.He’djustpickedupthecarashorttimeago,andalreadyhe’sruiningmyday?
IlookoveratRae,who’sonhersecondstackofpancakesandchowingdownlikeshehasn’teateninyears.Todayshe’swearingalightgraytop,tuckedsmoothlyintoapairoffancy,darkblueskinnyjeansthatendhighonherbareankle.It’stight—thatshirt.It’smadeofasoft,stretchymaterialthatbeginsaroundhercollarbone,thenhugs,licks,andbendsoverherchestandtorso,revealingaslenderfigurethatisfantasticallywoman.Thesleevesclingdownherlongarmsandstopjustpastthebendinherelbow.Theonlythingmodernaboutthewayshelooksisherbrown—nearlyblackifitweren’tforthelighterpiecesthatstandoutwhenthesuncatchesit—hair.It’sstillinamessyheaponherhead,andshehasonefoot(withredtoenails)proppedupinthechairwithher.
She’sleaningoverthestackofpancakes,thicklashesfanneddowntowardhercheekbonesassheforksanotherbiteintohermouth.Ilikehereyeliner(amakeuptermIknowfrommysisters).It’sapreciseblacklinepaintedatthebaseofthoseprettyeyelashes,extendingoutslightlyandmakingherlookstraightoutofablack-and-whitefilm.Shelooks…wonderful.
Igrimace.
“Thatwon’tdo,Tommy.We’regonnaneeditdonesoonerthanthat.Myfriendhasalifesheneedstogetbackto.”
WhenIsaythewordsmyfriend,Rae’sbigblueeyeslifttome,sofullofgratitudeassheswallowsagiantbiteofpancakethatIhavetolookaway.Ishouldn’thavesaidfriend.Idon’tmeanit.Ijustdidn’twanttosayhernameandalertthewholetowntothefactthatapopstarisinmyhouse.Becausebelieveme,Idon’twanttobeRae’sfriendoranythingelsetoher.AllIwantistoensurethiswomangetsonherwayassoonaspossibleandoutofmylifesoeverythingwillgobacktonormal.
“Ain’tuptoyou,Noah.Gotashortageonradiatorhosesandthesoonestthey’llbebackinstockistwoweeksfromtoday.I’lltellyawhenthey’rein.”Andthenhehangsupandmyhopedeflatespatheticallytotheground.
Twoweeks.Surelyshewon’tstayintownfortwoweeks?Ofcoursenot.WhoamIkidding?You’vealreadydealtwithawomanlikeherbefore,remember,Noah?Merrittwasalsoacitygirl,andshecouldn’twaittoleaveafterherbusinessherewasfinished.I’msureRaeRoseisitchingtogetbacktoherfancylife.Noneedformetoworry.
“Everythingokay?”sheasks,andIheartheclinkofherforkasshesetsitcarefullyonherplate.
“Uh…yeah.”Ifaceher,rubbingthebackofmyneck.“Well,no.Dependingonhowyouwanttoseeit,Iguess.Lookslikeyourcarwon’tbefixedforabouttwoweeksuntiltheygetapartyouneed.Butthegoodnewsis,youcanjustcallwhoeveritisthatusuallydrivesyouaroundandgetthemtotakeyouto…whereveritisyou’regoing.Wasitthebeach?”
“What?No,”shesaysinadaze.
“Themountainsthen?”Iask,takingtheseatacrossfromherinmysmallbreakfastnook.Idon’tlikethewaythelightspillsaroundhershouldersmakingherpracticallyglow.Ineedtoshuttheblinds.
Sheshakesherhead,lookingvisiblydistraught.“No,ImeanIcan’tcallanyonetogetme.”Okay,nowredflagsaregoingup.Issheinsomekindoftrouble?AmIharboringapopstarfugitive?“Idon’tmeantomakeitsoundsodramatic.I’mjustsortof…hidingforawhile.”
“Hiding?”Iechoinagrunt.
“Yeah.”Shescratchesthesideofherneckandlooksdownathernowemptyplate.“I’mnothidingfromthelaworacrazyex-boyfriendoranything,ifthat’swhatyou’rethinking.”
“Iwas.Thinkingbothofthoseactually.”
Shecracksthesaddestsmile,loweringhereyestoherplate.“Mylifequicklybecametoomuch.Ineededabreakfrom—”
Istandsuddenly,makingthechairlegsscrapeagainstthefloor.Thatfeelsatadtoodramatic,butIdon’thavetimetosithereandlistentoallthewaysthepopstarhasahardlife.Shecan’teatcarbs?Bigwhoop.SheaskedforthislifeandI’mfreshoutofpityparties.Forasecondthere,Iwasnearlysuckedintocaringabouther,wonderingwhyherdoeeyeslookfullofhurtandsadness.ButIcan’tgodownthatroadwithRaeRose.Shecangocrytoherentourageaboutit—Ihaveenoughpeopletoworryaboutasitis.
“Igottagotowork.I’vealreadybeengonetoolong.ButI’lltakeyouintotownsoyoucangetaroomatMabel’sbed-and-breakfast,becauseyoucan’tstayhere.”Thatwasbluntevenforme.Ican’thelpit,though.SomethingabouthermakesmefeellikeI’mbattingahandawayfromtouchingarawwoundonmyskin.
“Oh.”Sheblinksseveraltimesandthenstands.Hermovementsaretoogentletoevermakechairlegsscreech.“Ofcourse.Yes.I’msorry,Ididn’tmeantosuggestI’dstayhere.Thatwasnevermyplan.”Shepicksupherplateandscurrieswithittothesink,twopinksplotchesnowsittingonhercheeks.“I’lljustputthisinthedishwasherandthengrabmystuff.”
Shehikesuphersleevesandfranticallyscrubsatthesyruponherplate,makingmefeelliketheassholeJamessaidIwas.Great.PleaseexplaintomewhyinthehellIfeelguiltyrightnowwhenshe’stheonewhointerruptedmylife?
Iwatchherhipsshimmybackandforthfromtheforceshe’susingtoremovethatcaked-onsyrupwithherhandandadropofsoap.HershouldersarebuncheduptoherearsandI’mprettysureifIlookedathereyes,they’dbecloudedwithtears.DidImentionIhavethreesisters?Yeah,I’mwellacquaintedwiththisfranticcleaningcopingmechanism.
Except,clearly,Raeisalittleoutoftouchwiththeworldofcleaning.
IrefrainfromgrowlingasItaketwostepsovertoher,removetheplatefromherhands,andusethegreenbristlepadIkeepunderthesinktoeasilywipetheplateclean.Icanfeelherwatchingme,butIrefusetoreturnhergaze.It’snotbecauseIdon’ttrustmyselftolookinhereyesthiscloselyagain(Ilearnedmylessonwiththetelephonethismorning),butbecauseIdon’twanthertogetcomfyaroundhereandthinkwe’reactuallyfriends.ThisiswhatIcalldrawingaclearline.
“Thankyou,”shesaysquietly.“And…bytheway…mynameis…”Asoftpause.“Amelia.AmeliaRose.”Shestartsbackingaway.“Raeisjustastagename.”
Aftersheleavesthekitchen,Istandstock-stillashernamerollsitselfaroundmyhead.Amelia.Dammit,that’ssomethingIwishIdidn’tknow.
ThesoonerIcangetAmeliaRoseoutofmyhouse,thebetter.Chapter7Amelia
“We’refullup.”
IwatchindismayasNoah’sjawclenches.Heleanshiswideshouldersslightlyovertheinn’sreceptiondesktowardthesweetlittleoldladywhodashedhisdreamstotheground.IimmediatelyfeelsympathyforMabelhavingtostareNoahdown.Orup,sincethat’sthedirectionshehastotiltherchintoseehim.SheisaBlackwomanwholookstobeinherseventies,hassilver,extracurlyhair,croppedshort,iswearingdeepmauvelipstick,andhasjustthesortofsoftgrandmotherlyformyou’dlovetogetabighugfrom.Watchingthesetwoinastare-offfeelslikealiveactionscenebetweentheBigBadWolfandLittleRedRidingHood’sgrandma.
“Thatcan’tbe,Mabel.Hardlyanyoneevervisitsthistown.”
HerwiseeyesflickbrieflytomeandthenbacktoNoah.ThesuddenglintofmischiefIseetellsmeIhavethisstoryallwrong.She’stheoneinchargehere—notNoah.“Well,thatjustplumbain’ttrue,nowisit?Besides,ifitweretrue,I’dbebankrupt.AndI’vegotpilesofmoney.”
Noah’snostrilsflareashetakesinadeepbreath.Thatmanwantstogetridofmemorethanhe’severwantedanythinginhislife.Icanfeelhisirritationleakingfromhisboneslikefumes.“CanIseetheschedulingbook?”
MabelabruptlyshutsthebookthatwasopeninfrontofherandlevelsafrighteningscowlatNoah.“No,youmaynot.Anddon’tyoutrytomanhandlemelikethatagain.Ichangedyourdiapersanddon’tyouforgetit.”Shewagsherfingerinhisface.Hedoesn’tlookchastisedintheleast.WearyisthewordI’dassigntohim.
“Mrs.Mabel,”saysNoah,slowlyandgentlythistime.Hehasdippedhisvoiceinthick,decadenthoney.“Shehasnowheretostay.Surelyyoucanfindaroomforherinyourwonderfulbed-and-breakfast.”
Mabelsquints.“Soundslikeyou’retryingtoplagiarizeabiblestory.”Andthenshegrins.“Besides,Noah,itseemstomeshedoeshavesomewheretostay.YourguestroomisstillwideopenandfreeasabirdifI’mrememberingcorrectly.”
ThelookNoahgivesMabelhasmewantingtoshrivelupandsinkintoaholeintheground.Whatisthiswomanthinking?Clearly,she’slyinganddoingsomesortofmeddlingtohavemestayatNoah’shouse.Andclearly,Noahdoesn’twantmeanywherenearhishouse.Ijustcan’tdecideifit’sthathelikeshisspace,orjustdoesn’tlikeme.Athickcombinationofboth,Iassume.
IcouldsolveallthiseasilybycallingSusanandhavinghersendacar.TwoandahalfhoursandI’dbebuckledupinthebackofablacked-out,armoredSUVandthistownwouldbenothingbutadotintherearviewmirror.ButIdon’twantthat.ThelongerI’mhere,themoreIfeelmylimbstinglingbacktolife.Itseemsimportanttostay,nomatterhowawkwarditfeels.
Istepuptothecounter,thinkingthatmaybeifIfinallydothetalking,itwillhelp.“Hi,Mrs.Mabel,I’m—”
“RaeRose,yes,baby,Iknow.IhaveaTVandradio.LovedyourperformanceonGoodMorningAmericalastmonth.”
“Oh.”Ilaughlightly,notquiteexpectingthatanswerbecauseshehadscarcelylookedatmebeforenow.“Well,thankyou.”Polite,polite,polite.“Iwouldbeimmenselygratefulifyoucouldpossiblysqueezemeintoaroomhere.I’dbehappytopaytriplewhatevertheusualrateis.”
Shesmilessweetlyandraisesherweatheredhandoverthecountertopatmine.Ilookdown,alittleshocked.Noonetouchesme.Well,that’snotcompletelytrue.IfIfindmyselfinthemiddleofafanmob,everyonetugs,snatches,andgropesatme…butstrangersneveraffectionatelytouchmyhandlikeagrandmotherwould.Thegestureissokindandsweetitfeelslikebubblewraparoundmyheart.Again,Imissmymom.
“Idon’tneedyourmoney.I’mfilthyrich.Mysweethusband—mayherestinpeace—hadafantasticlifeinsurancepolicy.You’llstayatNoah’sandIdon’twanttohearanotherwordaboutit.”SheturnshersharpbrowneyestoNoahandliftshereyebrowsasifshe’sdaringhimtotalkback.
Somethinglikeagrowlsoundsfromhisthroatandherollshiseyesbeforehislargeformstormsoutthedoor.Well,then.IlookatMabelandsmileawkwardly.Shewinks,andwhispers,“Holdyourown,darlin’.”Igetonemoreaffectionate,fortifyingpatonmyhandbeforeshereleasesitandgesturesformetogooutafterhim.
Outside,IfindNoahbarrelingtowardhisburntorangepickuptrucklookingassternandgrumpyasabull.Ishouldbescaredtoapproachhim,butIfeellikeIunderstandhimenoughnowtoseethathe’sallbarkandnobite.Holdyourown,darlin’.Tobehonest,Ifeeloddlysafewithhim.Saferthanwanderingaroundbymyself,atleast.
HegetsinhisclassicChevytruckandslamsthedoorbehindhim.Iapproachthepassengersideslowlyandpeerthroughthewindow.Noahdrapeshishandoverthesteeringwheelandkeepshiseyesfacingforward,refusingtolookatme.Butthen,incontrasttohisgrumpy,hostileexterior,heunlocksthedoorsoIcanslideinbesidehim.Minusthesweetscentofpancakes,histrucksmellsoverwhelminglylikehim.Irunmyfingersgentlybackandforthoverthesmoothleatherbench,whileIgetupthenervetosaysomethingtohim.
“Hi,”Iventure,inanapologetictone.“How’syourdaygoing?”
Hismouthtwitchesandhecutshiswoodsyeyestome.“I’mbeinganassandIknowit.”
“Okay,well,theysaythefirststepisadmitting.”Thisearnsmeagenuinegrinfromhisfulllipstothesoftcrinklesbesidehiseyes.Oh,itlookssogoodonhim.AndIseewhyhedoesn’tdoitoften—it’sdisorienting.Iwanttopokehischeekrightwherethatgrindimples,andonlyjustmanagetorefrain.I’veneverfeltthislightwithanyonebefore.There’snotasinglestarinhiseyeswhenhelooksatme,anditalmostmakesmefeelnormal.IfI’mnotcareful,Icouldbecomeaddictedtothis.
“Whydon’tyoulikeme?”Iask,notoutofhurt,butgenuinecuriosity.
Hiseyesdroptothesteeringwheel.Atfirst,Ithinkhe’snotgoingtoanswerme.Thesilencestretchesonsolongbeforehefinallyspeaks.“It’snotyou.”Hiseyesslideuptomine,andnowI’msubmergedinadensegreenforest.
Iwaitaminuteforhimtoexpound,butI’mlearningthatexpoundingisnotNoah’sspecialty.Ithrowhimabone.“Listen,Iknowyoudidn’tsignupforthis.Youdefinitelydidn’taskforaspoiledpopstartocrashyourlifeandstayinyourguestroom.So…”Idon’twanttosayit,butIhaveto.It’stherightthingtodo.“JustsaythewordandI’llcallmymanagerandhavehersendsomeone.Icanbeoutofyourhairbytheafternoon,”Isay,tryingnottolooktoodisappointedasIofferupmyleastfavoriteoption.
“Butyoudon’twanttodothat?”
Ichoosemywordscarefully.“I…wasjusthopingforsometimeaway.”ItrytokeepitshortbecauseIhaven’tforgottenhowhereactedthismorningwhenIstartedtotellhimaboutmylife.
Hiseyesstayfocusedonme.He’sreadingme,lookingforsomethingandthenfindingananswer.Hedragsinadeepbreathandstaresouthisfrontwindshield.Threebeatsgobybeforeheletsthatbreathoutinonebiggust.“Allright.Tellyouwhat,youcanstayatmyplacethroughtheweekend.ButMondaymorningyouhavetofindsomewhereelsetogo.”
“Really?”Myvoicebelongstoathree-year-oldwhowasjustofferedabrowniebeforebedtime.NeverinmylifehaveIfeltsodesperateforsomething.Sohappyataprospect.Iclearmythroat.“Imean…areyousure?”
Hefightsagrin.“Yeah.Just…Ican’tbeyourtourguidewhileyou’rehere.Iworkafull-timejob,soyou’llhavetofendforyourself.Gotit?”
“Gotit,”Isaywithafirmnod.“I’llmakemyselfscarce.Seriously,I’llbequietasamouse.Youwon’tevenknowI’maround.”
Hestartsthetruckandputsitinreverse,mumbling,“Ihighlydoubtthat,”overhisshoulderashebackshistruckoutofthespace.Chapter8Amelia
Nowtodothethingthatsoundslessappealingthanpokingmyeyeout.IstaredownatmycellphoneandopenSusan’scontactinfo.Idon’thaveanymissedcallsortextsfromherbecauseIstilldon’thaveservice(asmallmercy).EventhoughIwanttodropoffthegridmorethananything,IknowthatIcan’tbethatirresponsible.Atthismoment,I’mofficiallytenminuteslateformyVogueinterviewandI’msurethatSusaniswearingaholethroughthefloorwhereversheisandsecondsawayfromcallingintheSWATteam.
Ididn’tmeantogothislongwithoutcheckinginwithher,butIgotcaughtupinthepancakesandthetripintotown,andforonce,IforgotaboutSusanormyresponsibilities.They’vecaughtuptomenow,though,andmyhandistrembling.
IwalkoutofthebedroomNoahislettingmestayinforthenextfourdaysandintothelivingroom.Noahsaidhehastowork,buthedidn’tleaveimmediatelyafterwecamehome.Instead,helookedatthetimeandthensighedlikehe’dmadeadecisionofsomesortandsetaboutdoingrandomtasksinhishouse.Heputaloadoflaundryinhiswashingmachine.Hestartedthedishwasher.Heslippedinandoutofhisroomagain,crackingitopenjustenoughtowalkthrough.Mycuriositypiquedtoepicproportions.Whatthehellisinthere,andwhydoesn’thewantmetoseeit?
Myimaginationhasbeenrunningwild.It’sakinkysexden.He’saTrekkieandtheroomisfullofStarTrekmemorabilia.Ohno,maybehe’saBeanieBabyhoarder.Thehorrifyingoptionsareendless,andIwillneverknowwhat’sontheothersideofthatdoor(probablyforthebest)becausecomeMonday,I’llbefindingsomewhereelsetostay.MaybebythenMabelwillhavechangedhertuneandwillhavepityonme.
Noah’sbackstiffenseversoslightlywhenhehearsmeapproach,buthedoesn’tturnrightaway.Helingersforamoment,wipingdownhiskitchencounter,andthenheandhisbroadshouldersturntofaceme.
“Hellloooo,”Isaywithabrightsmile.
“Hi,”hereplies,skeptically.Hiseyesradiateconcernlikehe’swaitingformetodosomethingterribleatanymoment.
“Look,I’mnotgoingtostealyourpillows,okay?”
Hefrownsandshakeshishead.“Didn’tthinkyouwere.”
Iscofflightlyandrollmyeyes.“Well,yousureseemlikeitfromthewayyou’rewalkingaroundherelikeacavemanguardingallhispreciousrocks.”IstomparoundandmimewhatIimagineaprehistoricmalewouldlooklikewhenhe’spissyandpossessive.It’snotacutelookonme.
Noah’sbrowsgoup.Armscross.SurlyPose.“Isthatsupposedtobeme?”
“Obviously.”
“Huh.”Apause.“Ineedbetterposture.”
Ifeelmylipscurl.“Isthat…ajoke,NoahWalker?”
“No.”Hesaysno,butthewordslidesacrossmyskinasifhewerewhisperingyesagainstthebackofmyneck.Confusing,confusingman.AlsoconfusingisthetemperatureofmybodyrightnowasheandIhaveastare-offthatfeelslikeourclothesmightspontaneouslyburstintoflames.Ridiculously,theprocedureIlearnedinkindergartenbuthaven’tyetfoundaneedtousepopsinmyhead:Stop,drop,androll.
“Didyouneedsomething?”asksNoah,hiseyesshutteringagainstanyhintsoffindingmedesirableamomentago.Alltracesofitaregone,makingmewonderifIimaginedit.
“Uh…yeah.DoyouhaveWi-Fi?”Iholdupmyphone.
“Nope.”Withhisarmsfoldedheleansbackagainstthecountertopandcrossesabootovertheother.Theposeisaspin-offofhiscriticallyacclaimedSurlyPose(trademarkpending)andit’ssoincrediblymasculinethehairsonmyarmsstand.Stop,drop,androll.
“Youdon’t…youdon’thaveinternet?”Surelyhe’sjustnotunderstandingthequestion.
Hegiveshissandy-blondheadonegoodshake.“Nointernet.”
Noahislikeapiggybankfullofmoney.HiswordsarecoinsandIhavehimphysicallyflippedupsidedown,shakinghimjusttogetafewcentstofallout.Ialmostwonderifhe’swithholdingwordsjusttoannoyme.Justtogetundermyskin.AndwhydoIlikeitsomuch?
Ihavetworesponseswarringinsideme.Thefirstismyusualfine-tuned,never-failingpolite,polite,polite.Thesecond,andtheoneIdecidetopursue,isanewinstinctfullofselfishprimitivedesires.Play,play,play.
“AndyouwonderedwhereIgotthecavemancomparison.”Butno,he’snotacaveman,he’s…classic.Likehistruck.Likehisphone.Likehishandwriting.Liketheplaidshirtrolledupoverhissturdyforearms.
“Isthisyourversionofquietasamouse?”HeholdshisfrownsowelleventhoughIcanfeeltheamusementvibratingbetweenus.
“Isthatthelongestsentenceyou’veeverstrungtogether?”
Hetipsoneofhiseyebrows.Ahit.“Shecommandeersmyguestroom.Eatsmyfood.Callsmeacaveman.Andinsultsmyintelligence,”hesayswhileshakinghisheadinamockreprimand.
“AndnextI’llaskifIcanborrowsomepj’s.”IwishIcouldtrainmyfacetobeasfrownyandstoicashis—delivermyjokeswithwitsodrythesinglestrikeofamatchwouldsenditallupinflames,butIcan’t.I’macheeseball,smilingtheentiretimeIsayit.
“Whydoyouneedmypajamas?”Ah—He’sastarchypa-ja-maskindofguyinsteadofthecuteandshortpj’sIliketosay.Thistinydistinctionsumsusbothupsoperfectly.
Ismilefaintly.“BecauseIassumeyoudon’twantmetowalkaroundnaked?”Play,play,play.Inoticethetipsofhisearsturnpink,soIhavemercyonhim.“Iforgottopacksomethingcomfyforlounging.”
Heswallows,dipshiseyesonceovermybody—veryquickly—andthennods.“I’llberightback.”
NoahescapestowardhisroomlikethePillowBanditishotonhisheels,andIusethemomentofprivacytocallSusan.Afterreadinghernumberfromhercontactinformationandpunchingitintothecatharticdinosaurphone,itrings.
“SusanMalley,”sheanswersinhermatter-of-facttone.
“Susan!Hey,it’s—”
“Rae!OhthankGOD!”Ihavetoholdthephonealittleawayfrommyearsoshedoesn’tpermanentlydamagemyhearing.Foramoment,herobviousrelieffillsmewithburstsofwarmfuzzylight.ShenoticedIwasgoneandwasworriedaboutme!Forabriefmoment,itfeelslikeI’mtalkingtotheoldSusanwhofirstreachedoutandcaredsomuchaboutmeintheearlyyearsofmycareer.Butthenshecontinuesandallthatlightfades.“Whereareyou?!It’sreallyshittyofyoutobelatelikethis.Andwherehasyourphonebeen?I’vebeencallingyouallmorning!YoubetterbevomitingwithastomachbugisallI’msaying.”
Shewasn’tworriedaboutme.She’sworriedaboutRaeRosemissinganinterview
“I’mnotsick.Ijust…don’thaveservice.”
Susanlaughs,butit’sclearshedoesn’tfindanythingfunny.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?Yougetgreatserviceinyourhouse.Doyouneedmetoorderyouanewphone?I’llpickoneupthismorningbecausewecan’thavethishappeningwhen—”
“Susan,”Isay,cuttingheroff.“I’mnotathome.”
Apause.“Okaaay,”shesaysslowly,finallyclueinginonthechangeinmyvoice.“Whereareyou?”
“I’m…”IpressmylipstogetherandlookovermyshouldertowardthehallwaythatleadstoNoah’sandmyrooms.DoItellSusanwhereIam?DoItrustthatshewon’tcomebangdownthedoorimmediatelyorsendawholeteamofsecuritypersonneltotrailme?Foronce,IfeelatasteoffreedomandI’mterrifiedtoloseit.“I’mtakingavacationbeforethetour.”
“You’re…taking…a…vacation.”Shesaysitallpainfullyslow,likeaparentgivingtheirchildachancetorectifythethingthechildpreviouslysaid.
Ishutmyeyesandsteelmyself.“Yes.”
Thistimesheletsoutonefrighteninglaugh.“You’rekiddingme?”
“No,I’mnot.I’mtakingsometimeawayformyselfbecause…”Noah’squestionfromthismorningpopsintomyhead.Youneedpermissiontoeat?Suddenly,Idon’tfeellikeexplaining.Ifeellikebeingapiggybank.“BecauseIneedit.”
Susanisnothappy.ThesilenceissotenseIfeelmyselfbeginningtowaver.Ifshepushesthis,Idon’tknowifI’llbeabletoholdout.“Youhaveobligations.Lotsandlotsofthem,Rae.Whatdoyouwantmetodo?Justcallandcancelthem?It’spromoforyourtour!Thisisalltohelpyouachieveyourdreamsandpeoplehaveputasideprecioustimetoaccommodateyou.”
Ugh,Ihatethewayshemakesmesound.Suddenly,Ifeellikeaspoiledbratwhoneedsatime-outtolearnherlesson.LikeallIeverdoisthinkaboutmyself.I’mstartingtothinkifthatweretrue,though,Iwouldn’tfeellikethenumbpileofgarbagethatIhavelately.Andthethingis,Ineverputupafight.Inevermissinterviews,andItrytoalwaysbegraciouswithotherpeople’stime.ThisistheoneinstancewhereI’vebackedoutofsomething.Thathastocount,right?
Noahturnsthecornerandwhenheseesmeonthephone,doesahalfturn,pivotingintothelivingroomanddroppinghimselfontothecouchinasurprisinglyboyishway.It’sunnervinghavinghimthere,listeningeventhoughhe’spretendingnotto.
IturnawayfromNoahandtwisttherubberphonecordaroundmyfinger.“I’mreallysorry,Susan.I’mjustreallytiredandneedsomespacetobreatheandfeellikemyselfagain.”
Earlyon,SusanandIwereverycloseandtalkedabouteverything.Iremembernotlongaftermycareertookoff,shetookmymomandmeonaradiotour.Susanbookedusinthenicesthotels,andthenaftereachinterview,wewenttoallthebesttouristysightseeingplacesandfunrestaurantsfordinner.Orwe’djustorderroomserviceandwatchmoviesinourplushhotelrobes—laughinglikefriends.Itwasthebest,Ihadmymomandafriendinmymanager.Lifewasstillexcitingandnew,andfamehadn’tburnedmeyet.
Duringthosedaysandnights,wetalkedextensivelyaboutmydreamsandwhatIwantedoutofthiscareer.Susanwassoinvestedandloving.Patientandunderstanding.I’mnotsurewhenshestoppedbeingthosethings,butit’scleartomenowthattheSusanIusedtoknowislonggone.
Imissher,aswellasthebright-eyedgirlwhoplayedmusicandsangbecauseifshedidn’t,theworldfeltwrong.Whowokeupearlyinthemorningbecauseasonglyricwasbuzzinginherheadthatshehadtowritedown.Thegirlwhosefingersandbackachedwonderfullyattheendofthedayfromgettinglostatthepianofortoolong.
ButpartofmewondersifSusanevennoticedshe’sgone.
“We’realltired,Rae,butyoudon’tseeusjustquittingandputtingpeopleoutlikeyoudidthismorning.Now,look.I’llgiveyouthroughtheweekendandthenyouhavetocomeback.AlsoIneedtoknowwhereyouaresoIcansendWilltostaywithyou.”Will—mybodyguard.Hewillfollowmeeverywhere.AndwhileInormallyappreciateandneedhimwithme,IthinkofMabelandthesoftpatofherhandthismorning,andIdon’tfeellikeWill’spresencehereisnecessary.
IrealizeI’veturnedbacktoNoahwhenhelooksoverhisshoulderandoureyesmeet.“Idon’tneedWill.I’msafeandstayingundertheradar.”
“No.Unacceptable.I’vegotapen,nowtellmeyouraddress.Also,you’restillgoingtoneedtodosomeover-the-phonepressinterviewswhileyou’rethere.It’simportantwekeepmomentumupbeforethetour.You’llhavetimetorestonthetourbusinbetweenvenues.”Geez,hasSusanalwaysbeenthismuchofasteamroller?Ifeelflattenedtotheground.
Noahstandsandwalksovertome.Insteadofgivingmearepeatofthismorning,hestopsafewfeetaway.ButterfliesswarminmystomachandI’msurethatifheknew,he’dforcemetodrinkhotsauceorsomethingequallybrutaltokillthemall.HavinghiseyesonmeremindsmethatIneedtobehere—thattheslowtingling-back-to-lifesensationisessentialandthatAudreyHepburnisneverwrong.Ineedtoleanintowhateverthisis,andSusanwillhavetodealwithoutmebeingavailable24-7foronce.
“Actually,Susan,I’llcallyouSundaynightandtellyouwheretosendacartopickmeupMondaymorning.I’llbeoutofpocketuntilthen.”
“No,Rae,wa—”
Ihangup.
AndthenIstarewithwideeyesatthereceiver.DidIreallyjustdothat?IfeelfreeandpowerfulandINCREDIBLE…untilthephonestartsringingagain.IwinceatthesoundandlookfranticallyovermyshoulderatNoah.IhavenoideawhyI’mlookingathim.It’snotlikehecandoanyth—
Justlikethismorning,he’sbehindmeagain.Hisarmreachesaroundmyshoulderandhedisconnectsthelandline,droppingthelittlecurlycordtothefloor.TheringingstopsandIfeelhelplesstodoanythingbutlookupathim.
He’snotquitesmilingbuthe’snotfrowning,either,ashesays,“Cavemendon’tneedphonesanyway.”Heplacesapairofpj’sintomyhands.
Iunfoldthebundledfabric,andwhyamInotatallsurprisedtofindthathe’shandedmeamatching,button-up,top-and-bottomssleepset.Flannelfabric—slatebluewithwhiteverticalpinstripes.Theylookexactlylikethesortofpj’sGregoryPeckwouldhaveworninRomanHoliday.Sophisticated,wholesome,classicpa-ja-mas.OfcourseNoahwouldownthese.
Heseesmesmilingatthepj’sandautomaticallyknowswhy.“Ihavesisters,”headmits,andit’strulyajoytowitnesshisembarrassment.“TheyboughtthemformeasagaggiftatChristmas,becausetheysayI’mlikeanoldman.”
“Careful.Thatwasalotofwords.Imightthinkyouliketalkingtomeifyoukeepthatup.”Ismilefaintlyandraisethefabrictomyface,runningitlightlyacrossmycheek,revelinginthesoftness.It’saweirdthingtodo—andIdon’tknowwhyIfeelcomfortableenoughtodoitrightinfrontofhim.
Hestudiesmecloselyforamomentandthenlooksoverhisshoulder,tryingtokeepmefromseeinghissmile.ButIseeit.“IhavesomeoneIhavetomeetforlunchbeforeIgobacktotheshop.”Oh.Isthatwhyhewaslingeringinsteadofgoingrightbacktoworkthismorning?Hehasalunchdate?Hesaidhewassingle,butIguessthatdoesn’tmeanhe’snotcasuallydating.AndWHYdoesthatmakemeclenchmyjaw?
Hepicksuphiskeysfromthecounter.“Soum…there’sstuffinthefridgeifyougethungry,andyouknowwherethetownisnow,sothere’sabikeoutbackifyouneedtogoinforanything.Call911ifthere’safire.”
“Stop,drop,androll,”Isaywithagrin.
Henodsafewtimes.“Right.Well.IguessI’llseeyalater.”
“Iguessyouwill.”Chapter9Noah
BeadyeyesfollowmeeverywhereIwalk.Likeannoyinglittlegremlinsthatwon’tleavemealone.
Ameliahasbeenatmyhouseforalmostthreefulldaysnow,butotherthanMabel,noonehasbeenabletoconfirmherexistencebecauseshehasn’tventuredoutfromundermyroof,andI’vekeptafirmno-commentstance.Idon’tknowwhatinthehellshe’sbeendoingthereoverthelasttwodaysbecauseI’veavoidedherlikeIavoidHarrietatthe…well,everywhere.ButclearlyspeculationaboutAmelia—orRaeastheyknowher—hasspreadrapidlythroughthelocalsbecausemypieshophashadmorefoottrafficoverthelasttwodaysthanit’shadallmonth.
Noonearoundherereallylistenstomainstreammusic,becausetheyprefersongswithacountrytwangandlyricsaboutamanandhisbeloveddogdrivingoverdustyroads.Sonoone’sbeenfanaticaboutseeingheroranything.No,they’reonlyinitforthejuicytasteofgossipontheirtongues.TheyhopetostirtheircoffeeinSundayschoolwhilecoylydistributingdetailsofthefamousstarlikethey’regraciouslyhandingouthundred-dollarbillstothepoorandneedy.
Plus,theyrememberhowitallwentdownwithMerritt,andtheywantfront-rowseatstothepotentialsequelofmyterriblelovelife.I’vegotnewsforthem,they’regoingtobesorelydisappointedbecauseI’mnotgoinganywherenearAmelia.
Thosearetheonlyreasonsthey’relurkingaroundhere.EveryoneknowswhatpiesIoffer.TheyeachhaveafavoriteandIcannameeverytowncitizen’susualorderwhileflat-outdrunk.Andyet,theyhavealllingeredandstaredatthepiecaseliketheselittleroundpastriesareafreshinvention.
“Andthisblackberrypieisfilledwith…?”
“Blackberries,”Isay,crossingmyarms.
“Well,Iknowthat,butitdoesn’thaveanysecondaryberriesinit?”asksGemma,whoownsthequiltingshopacrosstheway.
“Nope.Sameingredientsit’shadforthelastfiftyyears.”Gemmaisaroundfiftyyearsoldherself,andalsoatownnative,sosheknowsthisaswellasanyone.
Shewrinkleshernose,admittingherstallingtechniqueshavecometoanend.Istareatherwithoutasmile,willinghertojustpickadamnpieandleave.
PhilandToddaresittingatthehigh-toptable,nursingthecoffeestheyorderedanhouragoandeatingbitesthesizeofcrumbs.I’veseenmicetacklealargermouthful.ThankgoodnessIcancloseupinaboutthirtyminutes,and…wait,no,Ican’tgohome.She’llbeathome.WhatamIevensupposedtosaytoher?HowwillIavoidherwithsomanyhoursleftuntilIcanjustifygoingtosleep?I’vebeengoingtoJames’shouseeverydayafterworkuntilI’mreadytogotobedjustsoIdon’thavetospendanytimewithAmelia.Buthetoldme—notverypolitely—toquitbeingacowardandthatIwasn’twelcomethiseveningathishouse.
I’vebeenkickingmyselfforagreeingtoletherstaytheweekend.Shouldhaveturnedherawayimmediately.It’snotlikeshe’shomelessorpenniless.AndwhenIstopandaskmyselfwhyIdidletherstay,I’mnotcomfortableenoughtoanswer.BecauseI’mprettysureitwouldhavesomethingtodowiththewayIlingeredinthebathroomoverherbottleofbodylotionlikeafreak.Itoldmyselftoleaveitalone.JustleaveitALONE.ButitwassittingtherenexttoherhairbrushandmakeupbaganditwastootemptingnottopopthetoptosniffitlikethepatheticpieceofshitthatIam.Evenworse,IfeltdisappointedwhenIsmelleditbecauseIknew—fromstandingtooclosetoherontoomanyoccasions—thatthescentwasallwrong.Itchangeswhenit’sonherskin.Turnsdeeper,softer,andwarmer.
I’mannoyed.
I’mangry.
I’mfrustrated.
AndIleanintothoseemotionslikeoldfriendsbecausethosearetheonesthatkeepmefrommakingacarelessmistakelikegrowingattachedtoabeautiful,talentedwomanwithagreatpersonalityandalifefarfarawayfromRome,Kentucky.
Gemmafinallyleavestheshopwithherapplebourbonvanillapie(thesameoneshealwaysgets,bytheway),andmosteveryoneelse,exceptPhilandTodd,clearsout.I’mwipingdownthecounterwhenIspotawomanrollingupinfrontoftheshopwindowonabicycle…
No.Whatisshedoinghere?Andwhyisshewearingmyhat?
Thelittlethief.
ThedoorchimesasAmeliastepsin,sunlightspillingallaroundherformlikeshe’sadamnangelsenttoearthtoprovethatheavenreallyexists.IwishIcouldsaymyeyesdon’ttrackthelengthofhertan,tonedlegsinherwhiteshorts—thesameonesshewaswearingthenightImether—buttheydo.Herlongdarkhairisnowbraidedoverhershoulderanddrapesallthewaydowntothemiddleofherabdomen.It’stiedattheendwithanavysilkribbonthatmatchestheblueinthestripedtanktopshe’swearing.Whitecanvassneakerscoverherfeet,butIknowthere’sredtoenailshidingunderneath.Needlesstosay,thisclassicandsophisticatedstyleofhersisacompletecontradictiontomyold,fadedAtlantaBravesbaseballcap.Doesshethinkit’shelpingherhide?Shesticksoutlikeabeautiful,radiantthumb.
Sheducksherheadalittleandthenapproachesthecounterhesitantly.“IknowIsaidIwouldn’tbugyou,butyourfridgewassortofempty,soIthoughtI’dcomeintotownandgetafewthingstomakedinnertonight.Earnmykeepandall.ButthenIsawthenameofthisshopandrememberedyousayingyouownedapieshop,andohshootyou’remad.”Shesizesupthefrownonmyfaceandstartsbackingaway.“I’lljustgo.Sorry.Thiswasabadideaand—”Shecutsherselfoffandturnsaround,headingforthedoor,braidwhippingherbacklikeit’sspurringhertomovefaster.
PhilandToddducktheirheadstogether,whisperingandcastingmedisappointedlooks.LikeJames,theydon’tthinkI’mtreatingAmeliawellenough.Thistownistoodamnpoliteforitsowngood,andIwishIwasn’traisedtothinkthesameway.IwishIcouldsuccessfullypushherawaylikeI’vebeentryingtodoinsteadofimmediatelytuggingherback.
“Amel—Rae.”HershouldersbunchwhenIcallhername,andshefreezes,lightlyspinningontheballsofherfeettofacemeagain.Ihitchmyheadtowardthepiecase.“Havealookaround.”
MaybeifIletherseeeverythingnow,she’llgetherfillofthe“normallife”andhittheroadsooner.BecauseI’msurethat’sallthisisforher.Therichandfamousstarisstoopingdownfromherstagetooohandahhoverourquaintlittlelivesandthenshe’lltakesomestoriesofourMayberry-typetownontheroadwithhertotellherfriends.Thistownisjustalayoverforhertype.Believeme.
Idon’tknowifAmeliaissmilingorfrowningasshelooksovereverynookandcrannyofmypieshopbecauseIgointothebackkitchenandcleanupfortheday.WhenIhearthefrontdoorchime,Iaudiblysighwithreliefknowingthatthebellmeansshe’sgone.
“Shouldn’thaveletherstay,”IgrumbleundermybreathasIscrubamixingbowlinthesink.“Notworthit.”Scrub,scrub,scrub.“Suchanidiot.”
“Youtalktoyourdishesmorethanpeople.”
IjumpamileoutofmyskinatthesoundofAmelia’svoicebehindme.IstartlesomuchthatIaccidentallyflingabigglobofsoapbubblesrightintomyeye.“Shit.Dammit!”Nowmyeyesareburningliketheywerejustdousedwithbearspray.I’mtryingtousemyelbowtowipethemout,butit’snotworkingandmyhandsarestilltoosoapytousethem.
“I’msosorry!Letmehelp.”Ameliatugsmyshoulderturningmetowardher,andthroughmyburning,squintingeyes,Icanseethatshehaswetadishtowel.IfshethinksI’mgoingtoletherdoctormeup,she’sgotanotherthingcoming.Idon’twantheranywherenearme.
“I’mfine.”Iwipemyeyeswithmyforearmagain,butit’sgettingworse.Involuntarytearsarestartingtostreamfrommyeyes.I’mnotcrying!Lettherecordshowmyeyesaredoingthisontheirown!
Ishovemysoap-coveredhandsunderthestreamofwaterandfranticallytrytorinsethemsoIcanwipewhatInowthinkmightbestraight-upbatteryacidoutofmyeyes.Ameliatriestotugmyshoulderagain,butIdon’tbudge.
“Oh,forpity’ssake,”shesayslikeshe’slivedinthistownformorethantwodays.Shethenslidesherselfupundermyarm,rightbetweenmeandthesink.Myarmsarewrappedaroundhernowandourchestsaretouching.HotelectricitysurgesthroughmyveinsandI’mleftstunned.It’sbeentoolongsinceI’vehadawomaninmyarmsandthat’stheonlyreasonmybodyisreactingsointenselyrightnow.
“Justletmegetthebubblesoutandthenyoucangobacktoignoringme,”shesays,liftinguponhertiptoestopushthedishtowelintoeachofmyeyes,wipingthesudsout.Ithelps.OrmaybeIjustdon’tfeelthepainanymorebecausemybrainiszeroinginonalltheplacesourbodiesaretouching.Ittakesmealloftwosecondstonotethathereyeshaveflecksofgreen.Thatwhenhervanillalotionmixeswithherskinitsmellslikebrownsugar.Alightdustingoffrecklessitsonthebridgeofhernose.Otherthanthatsubtleblacklinethatextendsoverherlidandflicksoutbesideherthickeyelashes,Idon’tthinkshewearsmuchmakeup.IfIhadtowager,I’dsaythoseraspberry-pinklipsareallnatural.
Iswallowwhenherhandlowersandmyeyesarenolongerburning.Shedoesn’tmove.Idon’tmove.There’sthismagneticsortofpullbetweenusthatI’mnothappytorealizeexists.MorethananythingI’dlovetoberepulsedbyher—butI’mnot.AndIsureashelldon’thatestaringatthosefulllips,wonderingiftheytastejustastartandsweetastheylook.
Ishouldstepback.Dropmyarms.Takeadeepbreathandcooloff.ButIcan’t—myfeetwon’tmoveandmyeyeswon’tbudgefromhermouth.
Andthen,Idon’tknowwhomovesfirst,butourlipscollide.Myhandshootsuptocradlethebackofherneck,andherarmswindaroundmywaist,pullingmybodyflushwithhers.TendercurvesWarmscent.Greedyhands.Herdeliciousmouthchasesawaymylogicalthoughtsuntilallthat’sleftisdesire.Istepforward,pressingherbackagainstthesink.Weshouldstop.ThisgoesagainsteverythingI’vetoldher—butshemakesasoftsoundofencouragementthatspikesasharperneedinmethanIcancontain.
Usually,IkisslikeIhaveallday.Agentlebuildofsensualitythat’smeantforsavoring.Ameliaunlockssomethinginme,though.Impatient.Needy.Hertongueglidesovermineandshe’ssodamnsweetIfeellikeI’mburningalive.
Iglidemyhandstoherwaistandwrapmyfingersaroundherhips,onesecondawayfromhoistingheruponthecounterwhentheshopdoorchimes.Thesounddousesusinrealityandallmyrationalthoughtsreturn.
Idropmyhandsandstepwayyyback,feelingstronglythatwhateverthatwas—itwasamistake.Ameliashufflestothefarthestcornerofthecounter.We’renotmakingeyecontactanymore,andtheatmosphereturnsawkward.
“Amelia,I’msorry.Thatwas—”
“Notsupposedtohappen,”shefinishesmystatementinarush.“Iknow.AndI’msorry,too.Let’sjustmoveonandagreenottodoitagain.”
We’repreventedfromtalkinganymoreaboutthis—whichisprobablyforthebest—whenafamiliarvoicecallsouttomefromthefrontoftheshop.
“Noah?”
Ohno.Notnow.Notyet.Ithoughtthey’dgetbackintowntomorrow!
“Hemustbeintheback.”
“Hidingprobably.”
IlookatAmeliaandgrimace.“Iapologizeinadvance.”
Ameliaonlyhasasecondtolookconfusedbeforeallthreeofmyyoungersistersbargethroughthekitchendoor,eyesfranticandonthehunt.
“Thereyouare!”saysEmily,theoldestofmysisters,whoIcanbestdescribeasabottleofhotsauce.“Youhavesomuchexplainingtodo!”Shejustturnedtwenty-ninelastyearandhasmymom’sgreeneyes.ThesameonesIhave.
NextcomesMadison,secondtoyoungest,pushingthroughtheswingingdoorandpeeringoverEmily’sshoulder.“WejustgotbackintotownandhadtohearfromHarrietthatyouhadarandomwomanstayoveratyourhouselastnight!”Madisonlooksthemostlikemydad.Shehasdarkhairanddarkeyes.ShepretendstobeasassertiveandunflappableasEmily,butshedoesn’tfoolme—shefeelsdeeply.
AndthennextcomesAnnabell(akaAnnie),thebabyofthefamilyatagetwenty-six,thesoft,quiet,wholesomeone,andalsotheonlyonewithnaturallybright,nearlywhite,blondhair.Weusedtojokethatshegotitfromthemailmansinceneithermymomordadhadblondhair.EvenEmilyandIhavemoreofagolden,sandycolorthantrueblond.“Butthen,weheardfromPhil,whohearditfromGemma,whohearditfromMabelthatit’snotarandomwomanbutRaeRose!AsintheRaeRose!”
Madisoncomesupandpokesmeinthechest.“Whatwereyouthinking,keepingsomethinglikethisfromus?Doyounotloveus?”
Igrinlightly.“Howwastheflowershow?”
“Don’ttrytodistractus!Goahead,Noah,tellusyouhateus!”saysEmily.
Annieputsherhandsonherhips.“It’stheonlyreasonwecanimagineyouwouldn’tcallusimmediatelyandtellusthatpoproyaltyisstayinginyourhouse.”Shepausesamomentandherfaceturnsslightlyabashed.“Andtheflowershowwasnice.Thankyouforasking.”
LikeIsaid,energyofthesun.Theseladiestalkataclipthatonlythemostseasonedoflistenerscankeepupwith.Ihappentobeoneofthem.
Iclearmythroatandthenglanceovereachoftheirheadstowardthepoorwomanwithwideeyesinthebackcorneroftheroom,lookinglikeatrappedbunny.Thisisgood,actually.Maybeit’llscareheroutoftown.Ishouldhavesiccedmysistersonhersooner.
MysistersfollowmygazeuntiltheirheadsareswiveledtowardAmelia.
“Ladies,thisisRaeRose.”Amelia,mymindcorrects.“Hercarunfortunatelybrokedowninmyfrontyardafewnightsagoandshe’sstrandedintownuntilTommycanfixit…or…”Iletthatorhang.Oruntilshegetssickofusandcallsadriver.Oruntilmyagitationdrivesherout.OruntilIwakeupfromthisdream/nightmare.
Mysisters’mouthsarewideopen,catchingflies,andtheyarespeechlessforprobablythefirsttimeintheirlives.Ameliasmiles,andI’munabletostopmyselffromnoticinghowit’scompletelydifferentfromtheoneshegivesme.Withwhatcanonlybedescribedasgrace,Ameliaraisesahandintheirdirectionandwavesgood-naturedly.“Hi.Sonicetomeetyouguys.”
There’sabouttwosecondsofcompletesilencebeforemysisters’shockwearsoffandtheypounce.It’saswirlofpeppysouthernvoicesbombardingAmeliawithquestionafterquestion.FortunatelyforAmelia,there’sonlythreepeopleinthistownwhoaregenuinefansofhers.UnfortunatelyforAmelia,they’reallcurrentlyinthekitchenwithher.
Theconversationgoeslikethisbutprettymuchallatonce.
Emily:You’restuckatNoah’shouse?Hedoesn’tevenhaveWi-Fi,youknow?
Madison:Noahisboring.Comeoutwithustonight!
Annie:We’regoingtoHank’sifyouwanttocome?
Emily:Hank’sisalocalbarwhereweallgoanddrinkonFridaynights.
Madison:Wecanpickyouup!
Annie:We’llmakesurenooneannoysyouwhileyou’rethere.
Emily:You’llloveit,Ipromise.
IfullyexpectAmeliatoshovethemoutofthewayandtakeoffrunningforthehills.There’snowaysheevencomprehendedallthosewordspeltedatheratonce.Butofcourse,I’mwrongagainandAmeliaisapparentlytheonewomanintheentireworldwhocanspeakExcitedWalkerWomen.
Herbrightsmilestretchesacrosshermouth,andhonestly,I’veneverseensomeonelookhappier.Orprettier,mymindaddsagainbecauseit’salittlejackass.“Umm—Hank’s,I’dlovetogowithyouguys.Thatisif…”Hereyessliptomeandhersmilefaltersafraction.“IfNoah’sokaywithit.”
I’mnotgivenachancetorespondbeforeEmilystepsbetweenusandsays,“Whythehelldoyouneedhispermission?LastIcheckedhedoesn’towntheplace.Well,hedoesownthisplace,buthedoesn’townHank’s.Sowillyoucomewithus?”
Howhasthiswomaninfiltratedmylifesoquickly?Ithinktornadoeshaveblownthroughthistownslower.Andprobablywithlessdamagethanshe’slikelytoinflict.Chapter10Amelia
ItshouldfeelweirdstayingatNoah’shouse.Whydoesn’titfeelweird?Ihaven’tevenfeltthiscomfortableinlavishhotelroomswithmyfavoritesnacksoverflowingfromtheminibarandasecurityguardparkedoutsidemydoor.SomethingaboutNoah’splacefeelshomey.IglancearoundtheroomI’mstayinginandrealizeit’sbecauseeverythinginhishouseseemstohaveapurpose—ahistory—orasentimentbehindit.Wherehehasapatchworkquiltthatwasprobablymadebyagrandmotheroranaunt,Ihaveanexpensiveduvetcover,selectedbymyinteriordesigner.AndthisiswhatmyhouseinNashvilleismissing.It’sfilledwithstuff,notmemories.
Whendidthathappen?SometimesIfeellikethedayIacceptedthenewtitleofRaeRose,abigeraserzippedoffbehindmeandwipedoutmylifebeforeit.Myheartachesthinkingofthosequieteveningswithmymom,huddledaroundthekitchentablepaintingournailsandeatingpopcorn.Ineverknewmydad,becausewhenmyparentsgotpregnantwithmeintheirlastyearofcollege,hedidn’twantanythingtodowithafamily.Hemadeitclearshe’dbeonherownifshewantedtokeepme.Mymomsaidshe’dalwayslikedtheideaofbeingayoungmomandstartingafamilyatanearlyage.Shedidn’tseewhywehadtobeanylessofafamilywithoutmydad—sothedecisionwaseasyforher.
Andshewasright,Ineverfeltlikeourhouseholdwaslacking.Imean,thingswerelean,andshehadtoworkalotasasinglemom,butwewerehappy.Andouronce-a-yearepicroadtripstothebeachwherewerentedasoggyhotelroomwithsandinthecarpetbecausewecouldn’taffordanythingelsearestillsomeofmygreatestmemories.MymomwasallthefamilyIneeded.Mybestfriend.Andthenmyfirstsinglewentnumberoneinthechartsandthat’swheneverythingchanged.
Whenthingstookoffandallthatmoneystartedrollingin,itslowlyrippedusapart.WehoppedinamovingtruckandheadedfromArizonatoabighouseinL.A.thefirstchancewegot.Itfeltcavernousatfirst.Thenewfurnituredidn’thavemybutt’simprintandIcouldn’tgetcomfyanywhere.Mymomlovedit,though,andseeingherhappymademehappy.She’salwaysbeenthelifeoftheparty,andshedidn’thaveanytroublemakingnewfriendsinthecelebritycirclesIwasinductedinto.Atfirst,westayedclose—andthenafterthefirstfewyears,shewasn’taroundasmuch.Shestoodmeupfordinnerdates,claimingitmusthavetotallyslippedhermindbecausesheneverrememberedschedulinganythingwhenI’dcallheraftersittingaloneatatableforanhour.ButIknowwedidbecauseIhadSusanconfirmthem—andSusanisthemostthoroughpersonIknow.
Thereweresomanyinstancesthatbegantopileuplikethat,nottomentionherconstantlybeggingSusantotransfermoremoneyintoheraccount.Sheisalwaystryingtogobehindmybacktogetwhatshewants,butSusanhasalwaysloopedmeinandIendupokayingwhatevertherequestis.Butsee,Iwouldlovetogivemymomanythingandeverythingshewants—Ijustwishshestillwantedme,too,andnotjustmymoney.
Thelaststrawformewasonherforty-fifthbirthday.Iplannedasurprisegetawayforjustthetwoofus.Ihaditsetupforweeks.SusanhelpedmebooktheplaneandavillainCaboforfivedays.ButwhenSusansentthecartopickherupandmeetmeattheairportforthebigsurprisejustlikeweplanned,mymomsaidshewouldn’tbecoming.Shealreadyhadplanswithfriendsanddidn’twanttocancel.
AndthatwasthedayIstoppedtryingtohavearelationship.
Despitefeelingused,Icontinuetofloatherfinanciallybecauseit’stheonlyconnectionwestillhave.Andasitturnsout,it’sreallyhardtotellaparentnowhentheykeepaskingformore.Ormaybeit’sthatI’maddictedtothathitofself-worthIgetwhenshefinallyneedsme.NowwemainlyinteractthroughSusan,whichhasbeenhelpfulformetogetsomespacefrommymom,buteverynowandthenI’llstillgetatextdirectlyfromheraskingforsomething.Ithurts,andusuallyItrytokeepmyresponsesprettyshort.
Anyway,IlikethatNoah’shouseissmall.Thedecorisprettyminimal,butit’sclearthathelivesinitandheisn’taneatfreak.OtherthanmytriptoThePieShop,Ihaven’tleftthishouseoverthelastfewdays,soI’vebecomewellacquaintedwithit.IfeellikeI’vegottentoknowNoahalittlebitjustthroughthepurposefulitemshehasaroundit.Asimplebouquetofgorgeousflowerssitsinamilk-glassvaseonthebreakfasttable.I’veneverknownamantokeepflowersinhishomebeforeandthatfeelsimportanttonote.Hehasgreenmouthwashthesamecolorashiseyes.Itsitsonthebathroomcounterbesidehistoothbrush(nonelectric)andtoothpaste(Crestoriginal).Ihaven’tgottenapeekathisbedroomyetbecausehestillkeepsthatdoorshutasifhe’safraidI’llrushinlikeanun-potty-trainedpuppyandpeealloverhisbedding.
Iloveit.
Ilovethathedoesn’tlayaredcarpetdownformetowalkover.Hehasn’ttriedtoentertainmeoncesinceI’vebeenhere—infact,he’sstayedawayforthemostpart.Ithinkit’sbecauseoftheaccidentalkiss(ugh,thatincrediblekiss!)today,butIdon’tmindbecausehejustletsmelivelikeI’mnormal.Ican’texplainhowwonderfulthatis.Eventhewayhissisterstreatedmewasdifferentfrommostofthepublic.Yeah,theywereintense,butthegoodkind.AndI’lltellyouhowIcouldtrustthemrightaway.Theyinvitedmetogooutwiththemtonightinsteadofaskingasinglethingofme.Noselfies.Noautographs.Theyjustwantedmetocomeoutwiththemtonightbecausetheythoughtitwouldbefun.AndafterthreedaysofhibernatinginsidethishouseandworryingmyselfsickwithwhatI’mgoingtodoaboutmylife,funsoundsincredible.
Speakingofincredible,Noah’skisspingsbackintomyconsciousnessasithasabouteverytwentysecondsoverthelastfewhours.Howcouldonekisswithavirtualstrangerhavehookedmethismuch?Ihavetoblockitoutofmymind,though,becauseitabsolutelycannothappenagain.
Butnowthequestionis,whatdoesoneweartoaplacecalledHank’s?OrwasitHonk’s?Tonk’s?IthinkitwasHank’s.
“Noah,”Iyellthroughmybedroomdoor.“WhatdoIweartoHonk’s?”IpurposelyusethewrongnamebecauseithasbecomeoneofmygreatestpleasurestoannoyNoah.I’vemadeitagame.Howlongdoesittaketomakethegrumpypieshopowner’sheadpopoff?Ishouldkeepaloginmyphone.Downloadasophisticatedapptotrackthedifferencesinhisfacialexpressions.
Iknowhe’souttherebecauseIheardhimgointothebathroomandturnontheshowerwhenhegothomefromwork.Hewasintherefortwentyminutes.Twentytorturousminutesofmepacingthisroomlikeacagedtigertryingnottoimaginewhatthatmanwouldlooklikeinthenude.Ohgeez.Hewouldbeasighttobehold,Ijustknowit.AsightIwillneverbeholdbecausethat’snotwhatthistripisaboutforme.Andfrankly,it’sreallycreepythatI’mimaginingitanyway.I’mashamedofyou,innersexualgoddess.Controlyourself.
Agruntsoundsfromsomewhereoutsidemydoor.“Hank’s.It’scalledHank’s.Ifyou’regonnago,getitright.”
“Okay,well,whatdoIweartoHank’sthen?”
“Whateverthehellyouwant.”
Notsurehowit’spossible,butNoah’sgottenmoregrumpysinceearliertoday(probablyhavingsomethingtodowiththeincidentweshallnotmention).Andeachtimehe’slookedatmeafterthebubblefiasco,asternlineisetchedbetweenhisbrows.Igetit,wemixedpersonalspacesandhe’supsetaboutit.Itwon’thappenagain.
Buthere’sthething,I’vedatedthreeguysinmyadultyears:anactor,amodel,andthenmylastboyfriendwasasinger,too.Theywereallmenthatmagazinesandtabloidsdrooledover,sayingtheyweresomeofthesexiestandmostsuccessfulmenoutthere.Andyet,IneveronceexperiencedasstrongofanattractiontoanyofthemlikeIhavetoNoahWalker.
Ican’tletmyselfbeattractedtohim,though.I’llbeleavingonMondayandSusanhasforbiddenmefromdatinganormalguywhenI’veconsidereditinthepast.Shesaysourworldsaretoofarapart.Unfortunately,I’malsoforbiddenfromcupcakes,anysortofexhilaratingactivity,orblinkingwithoutSusan’sconsent.
Ugh.Thoughtsofmynormallifearebringingmedown.TimetoannoyNoahforsport.
“Acocktaildressitis,then!Ihaveonethat’scoveredinsequinsandhasaslitupthethigh…Imean,IalreadyworeittoHarryStyles’sbirthdayparty,butI’msurenoonearoundherewillmindifI’mseeninittwice.Plus,Harrylovedit,so…”
Ibitemybottomlipandwait.
Sureenough,IheartheheavyfootfallsofNoahtreadingclosertowardmydoor.“Don’twearthat.You’lllookridiculousalldressedup.”Noonecanaccusethismanofnotbeinghonest.He’sallbluntandzerosugar.He’sfantastic.
PS.Ididn’tevenpackacocktaildressbecauseI’mnotanidiotdespitewhatheseemstothinkaboutme.
“Just…wearjeansandaT-shirt,”saysNoah,soundinglikehe’sbeingslowlytorturedbyhavingtoactasmyfashionconsultant.Ormaybeit’sjusthavingtotalktomeingeneral?Idon’tknow.ButboyohboyamIlovingnothavingtoactlikeaprofessionallittleballofsunshineatalltimes.Hethinkshe’sscaringmeoffwithhissnippyattitude.Littledoesheknow,I’mthrivingoffhissurliness.
Iopenthedoor,revealingtheoutfitIwasalreadywearing:jeansandaT-shirtandakiss-my-assgrin.“Likethis?”
Heeyesmeheadtotoe,scowls,andturnstowalktohisdoor.Heonlyopensitacrackandpracticallywigglesinsidebeforeclosingitquicklybehindhim.
“Careful!”Iyellathiscloseddoor.“Youalmostleftenoughroomformetodartinunderyourfeetthattime!”
HegrowlsandIsmile.TwopointsforAmelia.ZeroforGrumpyPieShopOwner.Chapter11Amelia
Noah’ssistersareunlikeanyoneI’veeverknownbefore.Theypulledupoutsidehishouseandthenhonkedtheirhornformetocomeout.Literally.Theyhonked.WhenIsteppedoutside,theycatcalledandyelled,“Woohoo,princessofpopcomingouttoHank’s!HopinthebackwithAnnie!”
Andbytheback,theymeantthebackoftheirtruckbed.IfSusancouldseemenow,bobbingaroundonthispitch-blackbackroadinthebedofatruckwithnoseatbelt,lookinglikeapopcornkernelinapan,she’ddie.She’djustkeeloveronthespot.It’sgoingtobearowdynight,Icanfeelitinmybones.Myjostling,jerkingbones.
Unfortunately,allthisbumpingaroundisstartingtotriggeraheadache.Itmightbenothing,oritmightturnintooneofthosewhoppingmigrainesI’vestartedgettingmorefrequently.MydoctorsaystheyarestressinducedandthatIshouldtakemorebreaks.ButIhaven’thadtimeforbreaks,sothat’swhyIhaveprescription-strengthibuprofeninmypurse,whichIfisharoundforrightnow.
Findingthelittleorangecontainer,Idiscreetlyunscrewthelidandtakeoutapill,usingmyspittoswallowitbeforeAnniesees.Idon’tknowwhyIfeelsillyaboutthis.It’sonlyastrongibuprofen,butpeopletendtogetweirdideasintheirheadswhentheyseecelebritiespoppingrandompills,andIdon’tfeellikelaunchingintomywholemedicalhistorywiththeladiesrightnow.ItossthecontainerbackinmypursejustaswepulluptothebarandMadisonsticksherheadoutthepassenger-sidewindow,shouting,“Lookout,y’all!Teachersgonewild!”
“Youguysareteachers?”IaskAnnie,grippingthesideofthetruckasEmilyturnssharplyintothegravelparkinglot.
Anniesmiles.“Theyare,butthey’reonsummerbreakrightnow.IownaflowershoprightnextdoortoNoah’spieshop.”
Flowershop.Suddenly,thebouquetonhistablemakesmoresense.“SoyoumustbetheoneputtingfreshflowersinNoah’shouse?”
Annielaughsandshakesherhead.“Sortof.Noahcomesbytheshopalmosteverydayandbuysabouquetfrommetotakehome.Ithinkhe’ssecretlyworriedI’llgooutofbusinessifhedoesn’t.”
Uh-uh.Don’tyoudoit,heart.Ifeelyoutryingtosqueeze,butIwon’tallowit.Sowhat?He’sagoodbrother.
Big.Freaking.Deal.
EmilyandMadisonunloadfromthetruckandcomearoundtoletthegatedownformeandAnnietohopout.WhenIlookatHank’s,mystomachjumpsintomythroat.It’sasmallishbar,inbasicallythemiddleofnowhere,surroundedbyagravellotandstuffedtothebrim.Aneonsignflickersabovethebarconfirmingthatwe’reindeedatHank’sBar,andtherearesomanytrucksherethattheparkinglotispackedinlikeTetris.Thosewhogotherefirstwon’tbeabletoleaveanytimesoon.Throughthewindow,Icanseethatthebarisdimlylit,butthere’ssomanypeopleinthereIknowit’sgottobebreakingafirecode.
“Everythingokay?”Anniesays,stoppingbesidemeandreadingmynervousexpression.
Iswallowandgestureweaklytowardthebar.“Itjustlooks…busy.”
Emilycomesupontheothersideofme.“?’Causeitis.Everyone…andIdomeaneveryone,comestoHank’sonFridaynights.It’stheonlyfunthingtodointhewholetownsonoonemissesit.”
Ohsuper.Everyonestuffedintoonebuildingandmewithoutanysortofrealprotection.Whataretheoddsanyoneinthereisobsessedwithpopmusic?Suddenly,IwishNoahwerehere,whichissucharidiculousthoughtinandofitself.I’veonlyknownhimforafewdays,butsomehowIknowhe’dmakesureIwassafe.
“There’snotlikea…backentrancewecouldgoin,isthere?Anddoyouhaveahatinyourtruck?Ididn’trealizethiswasgoingtobesocrowdedorIwouldhave—”
Madisonstartspushingmefrombehind.Mybodyisbeingpropelledtowardthefrontdoor,andIlooklikeacatapproachingwater.Shelaughs.“Thistownisharmless.Trustus.We’lltakecareofyou.AndEmilyrunstheroostaroundhere,sothey’lllistentoher.”
Mm-hmm.ThenwhydoIfeellikeI’mbeingofferedupasasacrificetotheneonbeast?
Annieopensthedoorforallofusandgivesmeanempatheticsmilewhenthecountrymusicspillsout.It’sloudandrowdyinthere.Thrillingandterrifying.“LetEmilygofirst.”
IhangbackasinstructedandpracticeafewbreathingtechniquesIusebeforegoingonstagewhenmynervesgetthebestofme.Idon’tgetthroughmysecondbreathbeforeMadisongrabsmyhandandyanksmeinsidewithher.
Iswearthenextthirtysecondshappenlikethis:
Wewalkthroughthedoor.
Allheadsswivelinourdirection.
Thegroupofpeopleline-dancinginthemiddleoftheroomcometoaswifthalt.
Themusiccutsoff.
Everythinggoessosilentwecanheartheclickofthedoorshuttingbehindus.
Andeveryonestaresatme.
Asitturnsout…thesepeoplearefamiliarwithpopmusic.Oratleastjustcelebrities.BecausetheyaredefinitelylookingatmelikeIamone.Theheavyscentofbeerandsweat,mixedwiththewaymyheartisrammingagainstmychest,makesmefeellikeI’mgoingtobesick.Thiswasabadidea.LeavingNashvillewasabadidea.WhyinthehelldidIthinkIcouldjustslipintoatownundetectedandspendtimehereinblissfulsolitude?NowtheyallknowI’mhereandmypeacehasrunout.ForgetMonday,I’llhavetoleavetonightbecauseanysecondnowthey’lllifttheirphones,snapphotos,anduploadthemtoallthesocialmediaplatforms.Paparazziwillbeherewithinthehour.It’showitalwaysgoes.
Iturntorushoutthedoor,butMadisoncatchesmyforearm.“Hangon.It’sokay.”
ShenodsatEmilyandIwatchinamazementasthewomanhopsuponthetopofthebarandcupsherhandsaroundhermouth.“Allright,listenup,allyoufellowhillbillies!I’vegotmyfriendRaeRosehereandshe’slookingforagoodtimeandzerobother.Soactlikeyourmamataughtyousomemannersandlet’streatherwithrespect!Also,she’sflyingundertheradarinourtownforthenextlittlebit,sodoherafavorandpretendyouneversawher.Everybodygotit?”
There’saheartyroarfromthecrowdandaffirmingnods,beersraised,andwidesmiles.
“Good!Nowsomeonegetmeadrink!”
Emilyisagoddess.That’sallIcansay,becauseeveryonedoesexactlyasshesays.Themusiccranksup,laughterstartsagain,everyoneturnsbacktowhattheyweredoingbeforewewalkedin,themanbehindthebarhelpsEmilydownandthenputsabeerinherhand.
Andthat’sthat.
Noonetreatsmedifferently.Noonestares.Nooneasksforanautograph.Forthenexthalfhour,theWalkersistersandIlaughanddrinkandtalk.IhonestlyforgetthatI’mconsideredimportanteverywhereelseintheworld.Yeah,theywanttoknowwhatitwaslikedatingmyex,TylerNewport(IimaginealotlikedatingthatvainDisneyqueenwhoconstantlylookedinthemirrorandaskedwhowasthefairestofthemall).Theyalsowanttoknowmyfavoritethingaboutbeingasinger(anissueIsidestepbecausemycareercrisishasspikedtoepicheightsandIcompletelyblankonanygoodaspectsofit),butthosequestionsendprettyquickly,andthenourconversationmovesalong.
“Ihavetoadmit,”Itelltheladiesafterfinishingmyfirstbeerandfeelalittlemoreloose.“Iwasworriedeveryonewasgoingtofreakoutwhentheysawmewalkin.I’vebeeninthemiddleoffanmobsbeforeandIwasterrifieditwasabouttohappenagain.”
Madisonlaughs,becausetoanyoutsider,a“fanmob”soundslikeawhimsicalsceneinaDisneymovie.Inreality,it’spainful,scary,andsuchaninvasionofemotionalandphysicalsecuritythatit’sdifficulttobounceback.ButmostpeoplehavenoideaaboutanyofthatsoIforgiveherthechuckle.
“Iftheylookedinterested,it’sonlybecausethistown’sbeenlookingforsomethingtotalkabouteversinceKaceygotknockedupandeveryonewassureitwasZac’sbutthebabyendedupjustbeingherhusband,Rhett’s,afterall.They’vebeenboredeversince.”
Emilyleansoverthetablealittlefarther.“Butseriously…IwassureitwasZac’s.Especiallyafterthewayhe—”
“LookedatheratchurchthatSunday!Yes!”Madisonslapsthetablemakingtheirbeersslosh.Annieonlycontributestotheconversationwithaquietsmileandchuckle.“Butanyway,we’reallgoodpeoplearoundhere.Wejustneededtosetthemstraightfromthestart.Theywon’tbotheryounow,andyoudon’thavetoworryaboutanyoneleakingyourvisitonsocialmedia,becauseincaseyouhaven’tnoticed,there’snocellservicearoundhere.Ourbrotherdoesn’tevenownacellphone.”
I’mnotsurprisedthathedoesn’townacellphone.Iam,however,curiousatthewaymyskinpricklesfromonlythattinymentionofNoah.Howmymindflashesamontageofhishandsonmybody,hismoodymoutheagerlyexploringmine.Thezingofrightnessthatflewthroughmewhenourskintouched.
“So,”saysEmily,leaningontoherforearms.“WherewereyouheadedbeforeyoubrokedowninNoah’sfrontyard?”
Itakeasipofmysecondbeerandthenlickmylips.“Uh…hereactually.”
Allthreeladiesfrown.
“Here?”asksMadison.“AsinRome,Kentucky?Youcamehereonpurpose?Whythehellwouldyoudothat?I’vebeentryingtogetoutofthistownforyearsnow,butAnnieandEmwon’tletme.”
“You’redamnstraight,”saysEmilybeforeAnniegivesthembothafrustratedlookandwhipsoutalittlepocketnotebook,addingatallytosomesortofchart.“Sorry,Annie.Imean,you’redarnstraight,”Emilyamends,addingajauntylittlearmgesturetotheworddarn
AnnieseesmyconfusedlookasIpeeratthenotebook.ThenamesEmily,Madison,Annie,andNoahareallwrittenandhavemarksbesidethem.Actually,Anniedoesn’thaveanymarks,andNoahhasatleasttwiceasmanyasthesistersdo.Thismakesmesmileforinexplicablereasons.
“I’mtryingtobreakthemofswearingsomuch.Whenanyonereachestwentytallies,theyhavetopaytwentybuckstothecussingjar,”saysAnnie,closingthenotebookandsettingitaside.
Ilaughlightly.“Andwhy’sthat?”
“Becauseshe’sawholesome,sweet,littlebabyangel,”saysEmilywithatauntingsmile.
AnniestickshertongueoutatEmily.“AtleastoneofusshouldmakeitthroughthepearlygatesandrepresentfortheWalkers.”
Madisongrinssardonically.“Pearlygates?I’mjusttryingtomakeitpastthecitylimitsofthefu—orkingtown.”
Anniesmiles.“Nicecatch.”
Madisontipsherbeer.“OnlybecauseIloveyouandalsobecauseifIgetonemoretallyIhavetopayup.Now,willyoureturntheloveandeverletmeleaveRome?”
Inunison,EmilyandAnniebothsay,“Nope.”
Emily,whoIgetthefeelingisthemotherhenofthesisters,addswithafinalnotetohervoice,“Noah’sback,andwe’refamily.Thisiswhereourrootsare,andwherewebelong.”
Noah’sback?IreallywanttoaskEmilywhereNoahcamebackfrom,butIdon’tgetthechance.
Madisonsighsandsomuchisconveyedinthatoneexpelledbreath.Longing,defeat,resolve.AwholeslewofemotionsI’llprobablyneverlearntheoriginofbecauseI’llbegonebyMonday.Sheturnshereyesbacktome.“Sorry,wegetsidetrackedeasily.Weweretalkingaboutwhyyoucametovisit.”
NowthatI’vespentafewdaysinthetown,Icanunderstandherastonishment.It’snotexactlyaregulartouristdestination.Itakeanotherdrinkofmybeertobuymesometimetoformulateananswer.Butthentheroomwobblesalittle,andmytonguefeelsheavy,butlooseatthesametime.Momentarilydistractedbythissuddensensation,Iblurtthetruth.“IsearchedGoogleMapsforthenearestcitycalledRome,becausethat’swhereAudreygoesinRomanHoliday.”
I’mmetwithblankstares,andIwonderwhatpartofthatstatementisshockingthemmore.Idecidetostartwiththeleastoddpartofit.“Youknow…theclassicmovie?”Moreblankstares.“Oh,I’msureyouknowit.ItstarsAudreyHepburnandGregoryPeck.AudreyplaysPrincessAnnwhorunsawayfromherlifeofroyaltyonenight,and…youhavenoideawhatI’mtalkingabout?”
Allthreewomenshaketheirheads.Emilyspeaksfirst.“Iactuallydon’tthinkwe’veeverseenanAudreyHepburnfilm.Aretheygood?”
Mymouthgapesopen.Iamepicallydistraught.HowcantheynotknowwhoAudreyHepburnis?“What?!HowhaveyougonethroughyourwholeliveswithoutexperiencingAudrey?Sheisallthingsgrace,andprecociousness.Beautyyetoddity.”Ishakemyhead,bemused.“She’s…wonderful.”Andmybestfriend,Idon’tsaybecauseIhavenodesireforthemtolearnjusthowfreakishIreallyam.Orlonely.BecauseonlyafriendlesspersonwouldclaimadeadmoviestarastheirBFF.
Madisonsmiles.“SoundslikeAnnie.”Shepausesdramatically,cuttinghereyesmischievouslytohersister.“Thebeautyyetodditypartatleast.”It’sclearthisisaffectionatebanterbythesingsongywayshesaysit.
Butstill,EmilynudgesMadison’sshoulderplayfully.“Okay,enoughpickingonthebabyfortonight.Youknowshe’stoosweettofightback.”
“Hey,youdon’thavetodefendme.Icanholdmyown,”Anniesays,pullingherselfuptwomoreinchesinheight.Bothhersisterseyeherpatientlyandthenwaitwithhandsprimlyfoldedbelowtheirchins.“Maddieisso…well,she’sjust…”Anniegruntsanannoyedsound,rollshereyes,andsettlesbackagainstherseatwhenshecan’tthinkofanythingmeantosay.“ClearlyMadisonisthegraceandprecociousnesspart,andyoualsolookreallyprettyinthatshirttonight,Maddie.”
ThesisterseruptinlaughterandEmilyaffectionatelykissesAnnie’scheek,wholooksabsolutelyannoyedbyherlackofzingers.“Don’teverchange,Annie.”
Sittingherewatchingthesesistersbanter,fuss,andloveoneanothersowell,Ifeelthelackofitinmyownlifesokeenly.I’mdesperateforthis.Toknowandbeknown.Iwanttoburrowmywayintotheirlittlefamilyandbegforthemtomakefunofmeliketheydoeachother.IwantthemtoskewermewiththeobvioustruthsaboutmyselfthatIdon’tsee.Iwanttolaughandrollmyeyesandbeoneofthem.Havewhattheyhave.Buttodothat,Ihavetobehonestandopenaboutmyself.Iwouldhavetoletthemin,letthemseethatI’malittleweirdanddysfunctional,andI’mnotsureitwouldevenbeworthitsinceI’mleavingMonday.
Instead,Ismilesoftlyandsipmybeer.Polite,polite,polite.
Afewminuteslaterandafterwe’veallorderedanotherroundofbeers,Madisonlooksovermyshoulderandhersmilegrowsevenwider.“Oh,look,Noah’sherewithJames!”
AnavalancheofbutterfliestumblesintomystomachandthesensationissooverwhelmingInearlyfalloutofmychair.Somehow,IcanfeelNoah’seyesonthebackofmyneck.Myskiniswarm.Thehairsonmyarmsrise.Myfingersarefidgety.Ibouncemyknee,butnoneofthisworkstoerasethewayIcansensehimapproaching.Iraisemybeertomylipsandchughalfofit.Ihavenochoice.I’matthemercyofmyfrazzlednervesnow.
Unfortunately,theroomthatonlywobbledalittlebitagonowfeelslikeaspinningteacupride.HowamIdrunkalready?Thatdoesn’tseemrightforfinishingonlyoneandahalfbeers.Tipsy,sure.Butthissensationisdifferent.Alarming.
NoahandtheguytheysaidisnamedJamesmaketheirwayover.Noahstaysontheoppositesideofthetable,becauseasusual,he’safraidI’llbiteifhegetstooclose.Hisfriend,however,introduceshimselfwithawelcoming,opensmile.
Heextendshistan,callousedhand.IwouldbelyingifIsaidIdidn’timmediatelynoticehowattractiveheandhisdarkbrownhairandpearlywhiteteethare.“Hi,I’mJames.AndI’llsavebothofusanyawkwardnessbyadmittingrightawaythatIknowexactlywhoyouare.”Hetacksonagood-naturedsmilethatputsmeatease.“It’ssuchanhonortomeetyou,Rae.”Well,IwouldbeateaseifIdidn’tfeelsodamndrunk.
Iglancesuspiciouslyattheremainingbeerinmyglassasnauseaandexhaustionjumpontopofme.Ineedtopropmyeyelidsupjusttokeepthemopen.
“It’snicetomeetyou,too,Rae,”Isay,feelinglikemywordsarethickmolassescomingoutofmymouth.
James’sfacecrinkleswithaquizzicalsmile.Oh,wait.DidIaccidentallycallhimbymyname?Igentlyshakemyheadandlaugh.“Sorry.ImeanJames.Nicetomeetyou,James.”Iholdupmybeerfeelinglikeitweighsahundredpounds.“Toomuchofthis,Iguess.”
Anniefrowns.“Youonlyhadoneandahalfbeersandwerefineasecondago.”
Right.
It’sweirdI’mactingthisway.
IlookupandlockeyeswithNoah.Helooksstormierthanahurricane.Histhickgoldenbrowsareheavilypulledtogetherandhisjawisset.He’snothappy.Well,isheeverhappywhenI’maround?HisgazefeelssointenseIhavetolookaway,butfromthecornerofmyeye,Icanseethathe’sstillwatchingmeclosely.ChillbumpsflydownmyarmsandIneedforhimtostopstaringatmelikethatbeforeheburnsaholethroughmyface.
Also,whewbuddy,IfeellikeI’vebeenhitbyatruckallofasuddenandIneedsleepmorethananything.I’dliketolaymyheaddownrightonthistableand—
Ohshit.
That’swhenIrealizewhatI’vedone.
“Oh!Thisismyfavoritesong!”yellsMadison.Shesoundssofarawayeventhoughshe’srightinfrontofmeatthetable.“Comeon,let’sgodance!”
ThesisterspopupandheadtowardthedancefloorwithJames,butEmilyhangsback.“Youokay,Rae?”
Itrytogiveheranormalsmile.I’mnotevensuremylipsmove.“Sh’yeah!Bethereinasecond!”
Shechuckles,butIstillheartheworryinhertone.Motherhenisontome.“Okay.Noah,keepaneyeonher,willyou?Ithinkshe’salightweight.”
NowI’maloneatthetableandIfeelanequalamountofreliefinknowingsomeonehasn’tslippedsomethinginmydrink,anddreadforwhatI’vedone.Theworldisswirlingaroundme,nauseachurninginmystomach,andthedesiretoclosemyeyesissooverwhelmingIcanhardlyfightit.Butevenworse,I’mcompletelyvulnerablerightnow.
Tryingtokeepmyeyesfromcrossing,Iswiveltowardmypursehangingonthebackofthechair.Idipmyhandinsideandpulloutmyprescriptionmigrainemedication.Ittakessomeseriousefforttogetmyeyestofocus,butI’mfinallyabletodeterminethatit’snotthesamecircle-shapedpillItookearlier.Whichmeans…oh,no,no,no.
Itakeouttheotherprescriptionbottleinmybag.It’saheavy-duty,knock-you-out-until-next-summerkindofsleepingpillthatIonlyusewhenI’mtravelingontourandhaveseriousjetlaginothercountries.Andyep,it’sthepillItookearlier.Idon’tnormallykeeptheminmypurse,butIforgotthatbeforeIlefttown,IswipedeverythingfrommybathroomcounterintothebagI’mcarryingnow.Ionlytakethismedicationwhenit’sadiresituationandIabsolutelycan’tsleep,becauseitknocksmeoutwiththesamepowerasahorsetranquilizer.Oh,andonemorealarmingrealization,it’samajorno-notomixsleepingpillswithalcohol.
“Didyoutakeoneofthose?”Noah’svoicerumblesrightaboveme.Iforgothewashere.Evenmynameisdifficulttoremember.Nowhe’ssquattingdownbesidemeandgentlytakingthepillcontainerfrommyhand.HisfingersbrushagainstmineandIshiver.He’ssowarm.Andevenhishandlooksstrong.Makingpiesreallydoesitforthisman.
Iswallow.“Yeah.Acccccidentally.”MywordsslurtogetherasifI’vehadfivedrinksalready.Ifeelabsolutelyintoxicated.Andscared.Andalone.“IthhhoughtIwastakingmyothermmmedication.Guessnot.”
“Howmanydidyoutake?”Hisvoicefeelslikeamicrofiberblanketdrapedovermybody.
“Onlyone.”Ican’tphysicallystayawakeanylonger.Ifeeltheclawsofsleepsinkingintomeandpullingmeunder.
Layingmyheadonthetable,IcrackmyeyesopenonemoretimetolookatNoah.He’sfuzzyandswimminginmyvisionbuthedoesn’tlookstormyanymore.He’sgotthatwrinklebetweenhiseyes.WorriedNoahiscute.WorriedNoahlooksnice.Cozy.
Andthat’sthelastthoughtIhavebeforeeverythinggoesblack.Chapter12Noah
Well,thatescalatedquickly.
Guesswho’sinmytruck,loopyoutofhermindandfreshfromacheckupatourlocaldoctor’sofficewhereIbeggedDr.Mackytocomeinafterhours?I’llgiveyoutwohints:(1)ShepromisedI’dnotevennoticeheraround;and(2)She’sbeennothingbutnoticeablyaroundsinceImether.
Thiswomanhasonlybeeninmylifeforafewdaysandshe’sgoingtobetheendofme.ThemomentIsawhertonightIcouldtellsomethingwasn’tright.Hereyeswereglassyandhernormalsparklewasabsent.Shelookedhorrifiedandoutofitallatonce.Forasplitsecond,IthoughtsomeoneslippedsomethinginherdrinkandIwasabouttoflipeverytableinthatbaruntilIfiguredoutwhodidit.
ButthenIsawherpullthosepillsoutofherpurseandstareatthemanditallclicked.ThereliefIfeltthatshewasn’tmaliciouslydruggedwasimmediatelyreplacedwithterror.Icheckedthepillcontaineronlytofindthatsheaccidentallytookasleepingpill.I’mnotadoctor,butevenIknowthatmixingsleepingpillsandalcoholisnotagoodthing.
Anniecamebackovertothetablewhensherealizedsomethingwasup,andIhadherhelpmediscreetlygetAmeliatothetruck.Luckily,everyoneinthebarwassorowdyanddancingthatnooneseemedtonoticeus.IgotherintothefrontseatofmytruckandtoldAnniewhatwasgoingon.
IsatwithAmeliainthetruckwhileAnniewentinsideandusedthebar’sphonetocallDr.Macky.I’veneverdrivensofastinmylife,andI’veneverbeenmorethankfultoshowuplatetothebarbefore.IfIhadbeenthereanhourearlier,Iwouldhavebeenblockedinjustlikemysister’struck.
Anyway,wemadeittotheclinicandDr.MackydidaquickevaluationofAmelia.Herbloodpressurewasfine,heroxygenlevelswerefine,andalthoughshe’sloopyasshit,thedoctorsaidshe’llbeokayandjustneedstosleepitoff.
Rightnow,she’spassedoutacrossthebenchseatofmytruck,andI’mstandingoutsidethedoorwithmysistertryingtofindawayoutofthisresponsibilityIdidn’twantinthefirstplace.ButevenasIthinkit,Iknowthere’snowayI’mleavingherlikethistonight.Iwantto,butIjustcan’t.
AnnielookstowardtheopendoorofmytruckwherewecanseeAmeliawithherdarkhairfannedoutaroundherandhercheeksquishedagainsttheleather,mouthbreathingtoherfullest.“Shekindaremindsmeofapuppy.Alllostandsad.Pleasewillyoukeepher,Noah?Pleeeeease,”saysAnnie,puttingherhandsunderherchinandblinkingahundredtimes.
See,thethingaboutAnnieis,she’squietuntilshe’salonewithme.Andthenshehasnoproblemspeakinghermind.
Irollmyeyes,notallowingmyselftoaskwhymysisterthinksAmeliaissad.I’vegottenthatfeeling,too,but…itdoesn’tmatter.Idon’tneedtoknow.Infact,thelessIgettoknowthatwoman,thebetter.
“No.AndallI’msayingisyouandtheothergirlsshouldn’tgetattached.Youcan’ttrustawomanlikeher.”Igiveherasternlooktodrivethepointhome.IcanalreadytelleachofmysistersarefallinginlovewithAmeliaandthere’sabsolutelynogoodthatwillcomefromit.We’renoonetoher.Shewon’tevenlookoverhershoulderwhensheleavestownonMonday,andthey’ddowelltorememberit.
“Oooh,sternlook.Youmustreallymeanbusiness,”shesayswithadeadpandelivery.“Youknowwhat?Ibetshe’snotactuallyapopstarbutanundercoveragent,senttothissmalltowntoscoutoutabaseforhernewassassinagency.”She’snoddingthoughtfully.“You’reright,webetterkeepourdistance.”
Inarrowmyeyesatherandtrynottosmile.“Smart-ass.I’mjusttryingtokeepy’allfromgettingyourheartsbrokenwhenyournewfriendleavesyouhighanddry.”
“Keepusfromgettingourheartsbroken,orkeepyoufromgettingyourheartbroken?Again.”
It’sannoyinghavingsiblingswhoknowmesowell.Irefusetoplayrightintoherhand,though.“Knockitoff,andhopintheback.”
“Fine.Arewegoingbacktoyourplace?”
“Nope,”Isay,closingthetailgatebehindAnnieaftershe’ssettled.“She’sgonnatakeyourbedtonight.”
Anniegivesmeahorrifiedlook.“Why?You’retheonewiththesparebed!”
“Imaynotlikeher,butthatdoesn’tmeanIdon’twanthertofeelsafewhenshewakesupinthemorningfeelinglikecrap.She’ssleepingitoffatyourplacetonightwhereshe’llbesurroundedbywomenandnotinahousealonewithamanshehardlyknows.”
Icantellshewantstogrumblebuthastoomuchofasofthearttodecline.“Allright,Iseeyourpoint.Shecanhavemybed.Iforgetotherpeopledon’tknowyou’reasaintlyoldmanlikewedo.”
“Notsosaintlyaccordingtoyourcussingchart.”
Shepointsafingeratme.“Which,bytheway,youowethejarfortydollars.”
Igroan.I’vepaidmoremoneyintothatdamnjarthanmyretirementfund.IfAnniedidn’tdonateitalltocharityattheendoftheyear,I’dhavestoppedindulgingheralongtimeago.Butforwhateverreason,usnotcussingisimportanttoher,andso…Iguessit’simportanttome,too.Atleastwhenshe’saround.
JustasI’mabouttoslideintothedriver’sseat,Annie’sheadpopsaroundthetruck.“AndNoah?Grandmawould’velikedRae,youknow?Nomatterwhatyouthink,she’sgotakindheart.Icantell.”Shesmileslikeshe’srelivingamemory.“Grandmaalwayswantedsomeonelikeherforyou.”
IstareatAnnie,tryingtomentallybounceherwordsbacktoherinsteadofsoakingthemin.Andthenpointtothebedofthetruck.“Sitback.We’releavingnow.”ShegivesmeaquietlysternlookuntilItackon,“Please.”
Doeseveryoneinthistownknowmyweakspot?It’slikeIhaveared-paintedtargetonmychest.Theyknowexactlythepersontomentiontoripmyheartintwo
—
Ipullupthegraveldrivetothehouseandcuttheengine.Amelia’sheadisonlyafewinchesfrommylapandsomeofherhairisdrapedacrossmythigh.ShewhimperswhenIpokehershoulder.“Hey,drunky.Wakeup.”
“Imnotdrunk,”shesays,crackingherblueeyesopentopeerupatme.Shoot,Anniewasright.Shelooksjustlikealostpuppyrightnow.Idon’tlovetheprotectiveinstinctsit’striggeringinme.
“Youmightaswellbe,”Isay,butshe’salreadyasleepagain.Thatpillandalcoholcombosteamrolledher.
Igetoutandwalkaroundmytrucktoopenherdoor.Anniehopsoutofthebedofthetruckandstandsbesideme.“Shouldwejusttugoneofherarmsuntilshe’ssittingup?”
“Seemslikeourbestbet.”
AnnieandIworktogethertogetAmeliasittingupright.Herheadlollsbackagainsttheglassandhermouthfallsopen—eyesclosed.Ifwestuckapairofsunglassesonher,peoplemightthinkwe’rereenactingWeekendatBernie’s.
“Allright,upsydaisy,”ItellAmelia,drapingoneofherarmsaroundmyneckandhaulingherout.Shegiveszeroeffort—limplyhangingoffmysideandforcingmetoholdonsotightI’mafraidI’mgoingtobruiseher.AnniegoestoAmelia’sotherside,butmysisterisonlyfivefeettall(literally,notaninchmore)andisn’tmuchhelp.
“Screwit,”Isay,turningsoIcanscoopAmeliaupinmyarmsandcarryherinside.Thisismucheasiersomehow,especiallyafterAnnieresituatesAmelia’sfacesoherheadisonmyshoulderandshe’snolongerhangingoffmelikeadeadperson.Geez,whataweirdcoupleofdays.
AnnierunsaheadofmetounlockthedoorandturnonthelightsasIcarryAmeliaupthefrontsteps,remainingmentallydetachedfromhowshefeelsinmyarmsandhowsweetherhairsmellsorhowherbreathfeelsagainstmyneck.IgetherinsideandsetherdownonAnnie’sbed,andnosoonerthanherbodyhitsthemattressdoesshewhimperandclutchherstomach,curlingintoalittleballwithhereyesclosed.Isshenauseated?Dr.Mackysaiditcouldbeasideeffect.Againthatinstincttoprotectandsoothestartlesme.
IlookdownatAmeliawithAnnieatmyside.We’rebothalittleunsureofwhattodonow.Actually,IknowwhatIshoulddo.It’stimetohandthissituationovertomysister.ShecantakecareofAmeliasinceshe’stheonewhoinvitedheroutinthefirstplace.Thepopstarisherproblemnow,notmine.Ididmydutybygettingherseenbyadoctor,andtakinghersomewheresafe—nowIcangohomeandsleepeasy.
Ishouldgo.
She’llbefine.
Turnsout,I’mnotgoinganywhereexcepttothecorneroftheroomtopushAnnie’sreadingchairclosertothebed.Next,IgotothebathroomandwetawashragwithcoolwatersoIcandabitacrossAmelia’sforeheadtohelpwithhernausea.Anniewatchesallthiswithanoverlyindulgentsmirk.
“What?”Iaskher,eventhoughtheclipinmyvoiceisclearandIdon’twanttohearherthoughts.
Shepressesherlipstogetherandshakesherhead,amusementsparklinginhereyes.“Nothing.Nothingatall.I’mgoingtogogetashowerreallyquickandtrytowashoffthesmellofHank’s.Canyoudabmyheadwithcoolwater,too,whenIgetout?Looksreallynice.”
“Shutup,”Isay,pretendingtotrytokickherassheskirtsoutoftheroomchuckling.IlikewhenAnnieshowsfire,though.Iwishshe’ddoitmorearoundotherpeople.
IcontinuetorunthewashclothacrossAmelia’sforehead,notsureifthisisevendoingmuch,butIrememberseeingsomeonedoitinamovieonce.Cometothinkofit,itmighthavebeenoneofthoseold-timeymoviesoneofmysistersmademewatch.AndIcan’trememberiftheheroinewasactuallysickorjusthadafever.Whatever,atleastthismakesmefeellikeI’mdoingsomething.
NotevensurewhyIwanttobedoingsomethingtohelpAmelia.
Andthenshegroansagainandhereyescrackopen.Shesquintsatmealmostlikeshe’stryingtodecideifI’mrealoradream.
“Feelingokay?”Iaskquietly.
“Noah?”
“Yeah,it’sme.”
Ameliabreathesindeeplyandtriestokeephereyesopen,butcan’t.“Am…Isafe?”sheasksinasleepyslurthattwistsmyheart.
“Yes.You’reatmysisters’house.They’regoingtokeepaneyeonyoutonight.”
Sheletsoutasoundbetweenmiseryandembarrassment,neveropeninghereyes.“Noooo.Theyweregonnabemyfriends.Nowtheywon’twanttobe.”
Ifrownandusemyknucklestowipeawaythetearthathasjuststreakeddownthesideofhercheek.“Whydoyouthinkthat?”
“Highmaintenance.”ShepausesandIthinkmaybeshefellbacktosleepbeforeshespeaksagain.“PeopleonlylikemewhenI’measy.”Withhereyesclosed,herbrowssqueezetogetherandanotherteardropsdownthesideofherface.“Mustalwaysbepolite.”
Ishouldn’t,butIusemyhandtosmoothawayanotheroneofhertears,becauseIcan’tstandseeingthemstreakingdownherface.Ameliacatchesmyhandwithhersandsqueezesit.Iknowshe’sloopyoutofhermind—evidencethathereyesarestillshutandherwordsarepracticallyonelongslur.Butthere’sarawhonestythatcutspainfullythroughthetriple-reinforcedwallsofmyheart.
“Butnotwithyou.”Shenuzzleshercheekagainstthebackofmyhand.“Idon’thavetobepolitewithyoubecauseyoudon’tlikemeanyways.”
“That’snottrue,”Isay,moretomyselfthanher.
Shehums.“Mymomusedtobemybestfriend—butsheonlylikesmeformymoneynow.Susanonlycaresaboutmysuccess.AndtheworldonlywantsmeforRaeRose.”There’salongpauseasshesighsdeeply.“I’mdrowningandnooneseesme.”
I’mspeechlessasAmeliacontinuespressingmyhandagainsthersoftfacelikeit’sthemostpreciousthingshe’severheld.It’sagonyandheaventohaveherconfideinme.Tofeelherholdingmelikesheneedsme.Ishutmyeyesagainstherwords,because,dammit,Idon’twanttofeelanythingtowardher,butIdo.She’shurtingandlonelyandforsomereason,Icaredeeplythatshenotfeeleitherofthosethings.I’veworkedveryhardeversinceMerritttonotletanotherwomanhavesomuchpowerovermyheartagain,andofcourse,thiswoman—themostunavailableone—iswhosqueezedherwaythroughthebarsandismakingmefeelthings.
It’snotinfatuation.Notevenlust.It’stheworstofallthefeelings…care.
Careisrecklessbecauseitdoesn’tcomewiththeseatbeltthatselfishnessoffers.Carehassomuchtolose,andalmostalwaysendsinheartbreak.Unfortunately,I’mpowerlessagainstkeepingmyheartincheckaroundheranymore.There’saveryshortlistofpeopleinmylifethatIallowmyselftotrulycarefor,anditlookslikeIjustaddedanothernametoit.
IpushAmelia’shairbackfromherearsoIknowshecanhearme.“Iseeyou.”Chapter13Amelia
I’minadifferenthouse—onethatisdefinitelynotNoah’s.ThelastthingIremember,IwasatHank’sBar.AndnowI’mwakingupinastrangebed.PanicishoveringontheseamsofmyconsciousnessuntilIrealizethisroomisincrediblyfeminine.Aprettyfloralcomforterislyingontopofme,thecolorpaletteolive,dustypink,andcream.Therearesucculentsonthewindowsillandagiantbouquetofflowersbesidethebed.AndI’mstillinmyclothes.
Thesoundofwhisperingfemalevoices(thataredoingaverypoorjobofactuallykeepingtheirvoicesdown)floatsthroughthecloseddoor,andnowwithasighofrelief,IknowwhereIam.
“Shouldwewakeherup?”
“No.Thedocsaidtolethersleep.”
Thedoc?
Itallsuddenlycomesbacktomeinbrokenfragments.Feelingweirdandwoozyatthebar.RealizingItookasleepingpillandthendrankalcohol.AndthenlotsofmemoriesfeaturingNoah’sgreeneyes:besidemeatthebar,lookingdownatmeinhistruck,inanexamroomasadoctorpriedmyeyelidsopenandshinedalightintothem.Andthenonemoreviewofhisstartlinggreeneyesstaringatmeinthedark—notworried,butsomethingelse…
Icringe,shuttingmyblurryeyesandgroaning.IbetImadearealassoutofmyselflastnight.Ifhedidn’thatemealready,hereallydoesnow.Maybethat’swhyI’mhereinsteadofathishouse.Hepackedmybagsandkickedmeout.Iwouldn’tblamehimifhedid.
“It’salmostteno’clock.Shouldn’tweatleastmakesureshe’sstillaliveinthere?”ThatvoicemostdefinitelybelongstoMadison.
“Fine,butjustpeekintoseeifshe’sstillamongthelivingandthenweleaveherbe.Noahwillmurderusifhefindsoutwewokeherup.”Andthat’sEmily.
“Istillcan’tbelievehesatbesideherbedallnightandmonitoredher.Didyoutakeapicture?I’msomadIdidn’t—Ow!”saysMadison,withaloudyelpontheend.
“No,shedidn’ttakeapicture.Howareyousorude,Maddie?”
“Me?Annie’stheonewho’salwayspinchingme!Willyouquitit?”
“Ipreferpinchingtoarguing,”saysAnnieinabetterwhisperthaneitheroftheothertwosisters.
And,waitwaitwait.DidtheysayNoahsatbymybedallnightandmonitoredme?Mygazeslidesbesidethebedtoaninnocentlyemptyaccentchairthatisnowpulsingwithimportance.It’sangledtowardthebed.NoahsatinthatchairallnightandmadesureIwastakencareof.I’mhere.You’resafe,Irememberhimsaying.
ThebedroomdooropensacrackandIdon’tevenbotherpretendingtobeasleep.Threepairsofeyesblinkatme,andIraiseahandinaweakwave.“Hi.I’maliveandIheardallthat.”
Theypushthedooropenallthewayandgroan.“Sorry.Weweretryingtobequiet,”saysAnnie.She’swearingapjsetcoveredincartoonbananas.
Madisonhopsontothebottomofthebedwearingabrighttie-dyedhoodie,turquoisejoggers,andglasseswithbubblegum-pinkframes.Shepropsherselfuponherelbowandrestsherheadagainstherknuckles.“So…sleepingpills,huh?”
“Madison!Don’tpryintoherlife,that’srude,”Emilyreprimands,flashingmeanapologeticsmile.
“No,it’sokay.IthoughtIwastakingmyotherprescriptionforaheadachebutItotallyforgotthatIhadalsostuffedmysleepaidinmypurseearlierthisweek.IusuallyonlytakeitwhenI’mvisitinganothercountryandhavehorriblejetlag.”Ishakemyhead.“IfeelsobadthatIcausedsomuchtroublelastnight.I’mreallysorry,guys.”
SayingIfeellikeanidiotwouldbeanunderstatement.Myeyesdrifttotheangledchairagain.
Emilyperchesonthesideofthebed,wearingasophisticated,satinyloungesetinburgundy.ShetucksthecoversaroundmyfeetlikeI’maburrito.“Ifitmakesyoufeelbetter,youwereonlytroubleforNoahandAnna-banana.”
Andnowthebananapj’smakemoresense.
IlookupatAnnie.“I’mreallysorry.Andalso,IthoughtyournamewasAnnie?”Sheshrugswithasoftsmile.“Annie.Anna-banana.Eitherone.They’rebothshortforAnnabell.”Idon’tthinkanyone’snamehaseverfitsomeoneasperfectlyashernamefitsher.Soft.Southern.Kindandwelcoming.It’snotfairthattheyarebeingsohospitableandI’mdoingnothingbuttakingfromthem.
Idecidetogivealittleofthethingthat’shardesttogive—myself.“Well,mynameisactuallyAmelia.Raeisonlyastagename.”
Allthreeofthemexchangeguiltylooks.“Wealreadyknow,”saysMadison.Sheraisesandlowersashoulder.“Wikipediaissuchalittlesnitch.Youcanfindeverycelebrity’snameandhomeaddressonthatthing.”
IlaughbecausehereIthoughtIhadthisgreatsecretaboutmyself—andturnsout,it’sbeenpublicallthistime.That’swhatIgetfornevergooglingmyself.Suddenly,Iwonderwhatotherdeeplypersonalinformationisavailableoutthere.IfonlyNoahhadaWikipedia…
Myeyesdrifttothechairagain.“Umm…so…Noah?Ishemad?Iimagineheissincehekickedmeout.”
“Noahdidn’tkickyouout,”Anniesaysinasoothingtone.“Hewantedyoutostayherelastnightbecausehewasafraidyouwouldn’tfeelsafeknowingyou’dsleptallnightinhishousewhenyouwereprettymuchunconscious.”
Hiswoodsyeyesflashinmymindagain.You’resafe.
TheteenytinycrushI’vebeenharboringforNoahflaresintosomethingalittleterrifyingandconsuming.Whycan’thebeliketheothers?ItwouldbeeasiertodisregardhisactionsifhehadmadesurehewasherewhenIwokeupsohecouldgainallthecredit.Butno.JustlikethefirstmorningIwokeupinRome,Kentucky,Noahisnowheretobefound.
Theoddthingis,ifIhadwokenupinhishousethismorning,Iwouldn’thavefeltunsafe.There’sjustsomethingaboutNoahthatfeelshonorable.Grumpyashell,buthonorablenoless.
“Whereishenow?”Iask,lookingaroundlikemaybehe’llpopoutfrombehindthedoororsomething.
“Oh,hedidn’twantyoutoknowhe’dbeenhereall—OW!Wouldyouquit?!”
IlookoverjustintimetoseeAnnie’sfingersreelingbackfromtheundersideofMadison’sarm.“Hehadtogotowork,”shesayslikeasoftlittlespringtimebutterfly.“Buthesaidforyoutostopbytheshopwhenyou’refeelinguptoit.Hassomethinghewantstotalktoyouabout.Icandriveyouinonmywaytotheflowershopifyouwant.Idon’topenuntilelevenontheweekends.”
Mystomachflipsinsideout.Andwhetherit’soutofexcitementordread,I’mnotsureyet.There’sstillagoodchanceNoah’sgoingtotellmetopackmybagsandhittheroadtwodaysearly.
—
Afterscarfingabowlofcereal,finger-brushingmyteeth,andrunningabrushthroughmyhair,Iturnonmycellphoneforthefirsttime.I’mtoldbyMadisonthatifIstandonherbedandwavemycellphonearoundtheceilingforaminute,I’llbeabletogainabar.Andshe’sright—itworks.Ifinallygetabarofservice,andalongwithit,sixty-seventextmessages,andthirty-twoemails.MostofthetextsarefromSusan,afewarefrommymom.
IhatethehopeIfeelthatmaybehertextswillbeaboutsomethingmundaneorsimplelike:
Sawthisrandomflip-floponthestreetanditremindedmeofthetimeyougotyourfootstuckinapublictoiletandhadtoleavethemallwithoutashoe!Missyou!Callmesoontocatchup!
Nope.
Mom,7:02a.m.:Hisweetie!AreyouatyourMalibuhousethisweekend?Iwashopingtogostaythereforabit.LAisfeelingcramped.Bleh.
Mom,7:07a.m.:You’reprobablybusywithfriendsthisweekend.I’llemailSusaninstead.Hugs!
Ishouldn’t,becauseI’velearnedfromhistorythatmymomdoesn’tcareanymore—butforsomereason,Ifindmyselftypingoutaresponsetoher.
Amelia:Actually,I’minasmalltowninKentuckycalledRomethisweekend.Ineededtogetawayfromeverything.
Ihitsendandstareatmyphoneforherresponse—hopingshe’llcommentonthefactthatI’minRome.ShowsomesparkofamemorythattellsmeshestillthinksofourAudreymovienightsandwhatweusedtohave.Myheartisbegginghertoshowanysortofconcerntomysubtlecallforhelp.
Threedotsappearforawhilefollowedbyherresponse.
Mom:Okay.Sorryforbuggingyouwhileyou’reaway!I’llgothroughSusanforanyotherquestions.
Right.That’smyfaultforexpectinganythingdifferent.
Idon’tevenbotherreadingallofSusan’smessages.Iglancethroughthefirsttwenty,andatfirst,theyarekindandplacating.Shegentlyasksmetoreconsiderandcomeback.Theythenquicklyjumpintoreprimandingauthorityfigure:Rememberyourduty.YouwouldthinkbytheguilttripsshethrowsatmeinthesetextsthatitwasawarIdidn’tshowuptoratherthananinterview.
Butonethingisclearashertextsprogress:Susanisnotcomfortablewithmebeingoutsideofherreach.Alittlelightturnsoninthecornerofmymind,butIdon’thavetimetoexploreitrightnow.Ishutoffmyphonewithoutrespondingtoanythingelse,makingamentalnotetocallmyhousekeepingservicelater.ItoldSusanIwouldbeincontactSundaynight,andI’mstickingtoit.
—
TherideintotownwithAnniefeelslikeadecompressionchamberafteraloud,exhilaratingbrunchwithhersisters.Howthosewomencanalltalkatonceandstillmanagetofolloweachother’sconversationsissheertalent.IfeltlikeIwaswitnessingasitcomandhadtophysicallysitonmyhandstokeepfromclappingwhenoneofthemwouldsaysomethingfunny.
NowI’minAnnie’struck(apparentlyyouhavetoownoneifyoulivearoundhere)andwe’repullingintotown.MostsmalltownsI’vetraveledthroughareshapedlikeasquare.Romeisshapedlikealowercase“t”withbothroadsextendingouttofarmlandandlocals’houses.Mostoftheshopsaremadeofbrick,withcolorfulawningsabovethestorefronts.It’satinyminusculedotonamap,andifyoublinkwhiledriving,you’llmissit.Butsomehowtheymanagetohaveeverythingyouneedrighthere.JustonMainStreettheyhaveanicecreamshop,hardwarestore,market,coffeeshop,diner,flowershop,andofcourseThePieShop.Nooneparksonthestreet;instead,AnniedrivesusovertothecommunallotbesidePhil’sHardware.Morbidly,Iwonderifwhensomeonediesaroundhere,thenewstoreownerchangestheshopname,oriftheychangetheirgivennametofitthestore?Maybethere’sawholecemeterysomewherefullofPhilsandHanks.
TwostepsoutofthetruckandIspotNoah’sburntorangeChevy.Iknewhe’dbehere.He’sthewholereasonI’mintownrightnow,andstill,I’mfrozenasmyeyesgluethemselvestothesideofhistruck.Aninanimateobjectshouldn’tevokethewarm,flutteryfeelingssweepingthroughmybodyrightnow,butitdoes.Itreallydoes.Iblameitontheman’soverallmysteryandtheaddedbonusofatimecrunch.Itremindsmeofsummercampasateenager.Youknowyou’llonlybethereforafewdays,soimmediatelyyousetouttofindthehottestpersonavailable,zeroinonthem,andinitiateinstant-crush.That’sallthisis.It’sacrush.Attraction.Forbidden.Temporary.Mybodylikeshisbodyandthat’sallthereistoit.
WhenAnnieclearsherthroat,IrealizeI’mstaringatNoah’struckasifI’dliketomakelovetoit.Shegraciouslydoesn’tcommentandIcatchuptowhereshe’sbeenstandingwatchingmedrool.Ifeellikeasupercoolpersonrightnow,letmetellyou.
Annie’sflowershopisneighborswithThePieShopandsheasksifIwanttocomeinsidewithherfirst.SinceI’mapparentlytheworld’sbiggestcoward,IjumpatthechancetoputoffmymeetingwithNoah.HershopistheDisneyWorldofflowershops.It’sburstingwithcolorandnaturallightandtheinnatefeelingthateverythingwillturnoutokayinlife.Tubsofflowerslinethewallsandinthebackoftheshopisagiantoldfarmhousetable,paintedwhite.
“Whatmadeyouwanttostartaflowershop?”IaskherasIpickoutafewdifferentsingle-stemmedflowersandpiecethemtogetherintoabouquet.Asunflower,afewdaisies,abig,pink,puffy,cone-shapedone,andafewstemsofgreenery.I’mnotsureI’mcutoutforassemblingbouquetsafterIseethemallgroupedtogetherinmyhand.
“Mymom.Shelovedflowers.”Wemakeeyecontactovermyshoulderwhenshesaysloved.Pasttense.Anniedoesn’tmakemeask.“OrsoIwassotold.ShediedwhenIwaslittlesoIdon’trememberalotabouther,”shesays,allwhiletakingthesmallbouquetfrommyhand,removingthecone-shapedflowerandreplacingitwithasoftpinkroseandthenaddinginafeworangecarnations.Muchbetter.Shethenplacesitonherworktablewhereshewrapsthebundleinbrownpaper,fastensalittletwinebowaroundit,andaddsastickerwithherlogo.
“I’msorrytohearthat.Butit’salovelyideatorunaflowershopinhermemory.”
Annie’ssmileislikearayofsunshine.“Itis.AndIthinkshe’dbethrilledtoknowInamedthestoreafterher.”Shepointstothehand-paintedcalligraphysignbehindherworktable.Charlotte’sFlowers.Amillionquestionsfloatthroughmymindaboutwhenshepassedaway,andhow;butnoneofthemareanyofmybusiness,soIkeepquietandpullmywalletfrommypursetopayforthebouquet.
Anniechuckles,shakingherhead.“It’sonmetoday.”
“No,really,Iwanttopay,”Isay,immediatelyfeelingguilty.Ican’tnotpayforthis.Itwouldlooktacky—especiallysinceI’mtheonesittingonmillionsofdollarsoverhere,andshe’srunninganichebusinessinatinytown.EvenNoahbuysflowersfromheroftensoherbusinessdoesn’tgounder.
ButthenAnniejusthandsthebouquetoverthetabletomewithasoft,dimpledsmile.“Atokenoffriendship.”Hergestureramsintome.She’snotaskinganythingofme.Doesn’twantmymoney.Justfriendship.
Hersmiledimsintosympathywhensheseesmyface.“Areyou…crying?”
“No!Absolutelynot.”Isniffle.“That’s—no.Iwouldbe—it’stheflowers.IthinkI’m…allergic.Ormaybejustthesleepingpillstillmakingitswayoutofmysystem.”
Shelaughs.“Mm-hmm.Sure.Ithinkyougothitwiththefeelingsallergy.”
Isighandclutchtheflowersdesperatelytomychest.“Yeah…maybe.Somethingaboutthistownisreallymakingthemactup.”
“Imaginelivinghere,”shesayswithanamusedtwinkleinhereye.
Butno.Iabsolutelywillnotimaginethat,becauseIknowIwouldlikeitfartoomuch.Infact,it’stimeformetogoandseethemanthatIknowwillwipeawayanyoftheseillusions.He’llbegrumpyandsternandmakemefeellikemycompanyisthelastthingonearthhewants,anditwillbelovely.
BeforeIleavetheflowershop,IhaveAnniehelpmeputtogetherabouquetofNoah’sfavoriteflowers(whichIconvincehertoletmepayfor).
—
“Youstandtheremuchlongerandyourfeetwillgrowroots,makingthoseflowerssproutoutthetopofyourhead.”
Iexpelabreathandlookovermyshoulder.Mabeliswalkingtowardmeonthesidewalk,floralprintcottondressswayinginthebreeze,leatherloaferslightlysqueakingunderherfeet.HerwiseeyesslipfrommetoThePieShopI’mstandingjusttothesideof,andthenbacktome.Shestopsbesideme,heramplehipsnearlybrushingagainstmine.I’mholdingtheflowerbouquetsagainstmychestlikethey’renewbornbabiesandI’llprotectthemwithmylife.
“I’mtoonervoustogoin,”Iadmitopenly,becauseinstinctivelyIknowMabelwouldacceptnothingless.She’dseerightthroughanylieofmine.
Westandquietlyshouldertoshoulderliketwosoldiersontheoutskirtsofbattle.Shebreaksthereverentsilencewithoutlookingatme.“Whyareyouhere,younglady?”
“BecauseNoahaskedmeto—”
“No.”Herraspyvoicebarks,makingmejumpalittle.Aquickreminderthatshemaybenurturingbutshe’snotsoft.“Inthistown.Whyareyouhere?”
Ilookdownatthecheerfulblooms.“Idon’treallyknow.I’mnotsupposedtobe.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Shewillsettlefornothingbutexactpreciseanswers.Mabeldoesn’tbeataroundthebush.
Thedesiretohightailitawayfromherinafullsprintisnearlyunbearable.IthinkifIdid,though,thepowersofhersternmindwouldcapturemebythecollarofmyshirtandyankmeback.“I’mnotsupposedtobehereoutsideofNoah’sshop.Inthistown.Awayfrommylife.Onvacation.”IsayitasmanywaysasIcansothere’snowayshe’llmisinterpret.
“Heavenswhy,child?”Child.Whenwasthelasttimesomeonethoughtofmeasachild?Theendearmentissoniceandcozy.Likeholdingcoldhandsuptoacracklingfire.
“I’mnotsupposedtotakevacationsifthey’renotplannedayearoutandokayedbyfivedifferentpeople.MymanagerhasremindedmerepeatedlyoverthelastfewdaysthatI’mneglectingmyresponsibilitiesandbeingselfishbyleavingsuddenlylikeIdid.”
“Andletmeaskyousomething?Whenthehelldiditbecomesuchacrimetobeselfishnowandagain?”Mabelturnstofaceme,proppingherhandsonherhips.“Itellyouwhatmakesmemadderthanahornet.Whenpeopletellotherpeoplehowtheyshouldfeel.Everyone’sgettingtoodamnpeople-lylatelyandI’vehadenoughofit.Sometimesawomanisjustwornoutandneedsabreak,youknow?”Thelinesonherforeheaddeepen.“Thatdoesn’tprovethatyou’reweakorneglectful,itprovestoallthewomenstandingbyandwatchingyoupavetheroadtosuccessthatit’sokaytosayno.It’sokaytoshutyourdooreverynowandthenandputupasignthatsaysBusytakingcareofmetoday.Pissoff.”
Tearschokemyeyes.IlookoveratthewomanwhoseemsreadytodobattleonmybehalfandmytruthspillsoutbeforeIcanstopit.“Mabel,Idon’tlovemycareeranymore.Ihaven’tevenlovedsinginglately.That’swhyI’mhere.”
Shesmilessoftly.“Well,ofcourseyoudon’t,darlin’.Noonelovesanythingthey’remiserablychainedto.”Hereyesnarrowthoughtfully.“Butyouownthekeytoyourownlockanddon’tyouforgetit.Setyourselffreeforawhileandthatlovewillcomeback,justyouwatch.”
Ican’thelpbutlaughlightlybecausewiththosewords,Ifeellikeshe’srolledaboulderoffmyshoulders.ThefeelingsI’vekeptstrungupandgaggedinsidemeforsolongbecauseIknewnoonewouldunderstandarefreeandfloatingonthewind.Mabelunderstands.
Shestepsalittlecloserandtakesmyhandlikeshedidthatmorninginherinn.Shegrinsandherwrinklesmultiply.“Gohaveyourbreak,darlin’.Andevenbetter,haveitwithagoodmanwho’lltreatyouright.”ShenodsovermyshouldertoThePieShop.
“Mabel,Ican’tstay.NoahsaidIhavetoleavehisplaceonMonday.”
“Oh,you’restayingallright.”
Theconfidenceonthiswoman.
Igiveherahopefulsmile.“Doesthismeanyou’llletmerentaroomatyourinn?Icanevenhelpoutwithchorestomakeitworthwhileforyou.”
“Nope.We’refullup,toldyathatalready.”I’veneverseenawomanenjoytellingaliemore.“Butyou’llstayintown.Markmywords.”
“Ican’thelpbutfeellikeyourhopeismisplaced.Noahdoesn’tevenwantmearoundhim.”
Shegruntsalaugh.“Bullshit.I’veknownthatboysincehewasababy.Icanreadhimlikeabook,andI’dbetmyentirelivinghe’sgrumpybecausehewantsyouaroundtoomuch.”Idon’tdisagree,butIdoturnmyeyestotheshopwindow.“AndIsawhimstaringatyourbacksidewhenyouweren’tlooking.”
IwhipmyheadbacktoMabel.“Hedidnot.”
Hersmilewidens.“No,hedidn’t.ButnowIknowbytherosyhueinyourcheeksthatyouwishhedid.”Sheraisesandlowershereyebrowsandbeginstrundlingaway,passingThePieShopentirely.“Oh,thisisgonnabegood,”shesayssoftlytoherself.AndwhenIglancedownatmyflowersandback,she’sgone,justlikeamischievousghostsenttotauntthetown.Inalllikelihoodshejustdippedintothemarket,butIliketheghosttheorybetter.Chapter14Amelia
Justaspredicted,IwalkthroughthedoorofThePieShopandthelittlebellringingovermyheadalertsNoahtomypresence.Thesuddenforceofhisgazethreatenstolevelmewhenhelooksupfromthecounterwherehe’swritinginalittlenotepad.Aclassiclittlenotepadfortheclassicman.HiseyeslockwithmineandBOOM,grumpyface.It’sgoodhedoesn’tsmile.Iwouldn’tbeabletostaystandingifhedid.Butthis…thisIcanmakedowith.
Iapproachthecounterslowly.He’salionI’vejustencounteredinthewild.“Hiiii,”Isay,steppingcloser,onelittlescootingstepatatime.Hedoesn’tsayanything,justliftsabrow.Itrynottotremble.
WhenIgetcloseenough,Ilaybothbouquetsonthecounterlikeanofferingrightnexttowherehismuscularforearmsareresting.Myeyesgettangledupwiththelightdustingofmasculinehaironthem.Thehairsaresoblond,fine,andunobtrusiveyouhavetobecloseenoughtoseethem.MymindremindsmeunhelpfullythatIamcloseenoughtoseethem,alongwiththeshadowhisbaseballcapcastsoverhiseyes,nose,andcheekbones.Thescruffofhisjawisalittlemoreprominentthanitwasyesterday,tellingmehemightnothavegonehomeaftersittingbymybedsideallnight.Idon’twanttoacknowledgewhythethoughtofNoahworryingaboutmethroughthenightsendsashiverthroughmybody.
Hiseyesdroptothebouquetsandthenbackuptomyface.“Flowers?”
“Foryou,”Isay,scootingthebouquetImadeforhimcloserbeforeclaspingmyhandsbehindmybackandrockinglightlyonmyheels.“Anapology-slash-thank-youfortakingcareofmelastnight.”Itipmyshoulder.“AndIknowyoulikeflowers.Annietoldmeyoubuyabouquetfromherseveraltimesaweek.”
Hedoesn’tshiftevenaninch.“Justtobeclear,Idoittohelpher.NotbecauseI’mobsessedwithflowersoranything.”
Iwidenmyeyesatthatincredibleword.“Obsessed,”Isay,lettingitdissolvepleasantlyonmytongue.“Sureyou’renot,”Isay,noddingandsquintingmyeyes.Play,play,play.
Hiseyesnarrow.“Areyoutauntingme?”
“I’mjustnotsurewhyyou’reashamedtoadmityou’reobsessedwithflowers.”Ipressmylipstogetheragainstasmile.
“I’mnot—”Hestartstosayinanimpassionedtone,risinguptohisfullheightandtakingthebaitbeforerealizingI’mjustgoadinghim.Hegruntsandcrosseshisarms.Hello,SurlyPose.It’slovelytoseeyoutoday.“Ilikethem.I’mnotobsessed.”
Imirrorhisstance,andit’stoomuchfun.“It’sokaytoadmityourdeepinfatuation.Iwon’tforceyoutogiveupyourmancard.”
Thehintofasmirktoucheshismouthnow.He’sontome.“Iownapieshop.YouthinkIgiveashitaboutmancards?”Helooksoverhisrightshoulder,“Please,”andthenbacktome.
“Ifthat’strue…thenwhysohesitanttofessuptoyourflowerobsession?Annieclaimsyouthinkshe’satriskofbankruptcy,butdoyouwanttoknowwhatIthink?”
“Prettysureyou’regoingtotellmenomatterwhat.”
“Ithink,”Ibegininaferventcourtroomtone,“youverywellknowjusthowmanypeopleloveandsupporthershop,andthatherflowerbusinessisdoingjustfine.Ithink,goodsir,thatyouuseyourbrotherlycareasadisguiseforyour…”Iletthewordhangaswestareateachother.“Obsession.”
Heleanshispalmsonthecounter,anglinghimselfcloser.Somethingsweetandwarmcracklesintheairbetweenus.“Ithink…myobsessionsarenoneofyourbusiness.”
“Aha!”Iholdupafingertowardhisface.“Soyouadmitit?!Ladiesandgentlemenofthejury,youhearditfromhisownmouth!”
Tomycompleteshock,Noahhookshisfingeraroundmine,loweringthembothslowlydownontothecounter.Toomanysensationsmingleinthatsmalltouch,andwhenhedoesn’timmediatelyremovehisfingerfrommineafterthey’refinallyrestingonthecounter,myheartgivesout.Iflatline.Someonegetthestretcher
Agrinhoversonthesideofhismouth—alovelyadditiontothedarkshadowhishatcastsoverhiseyes.“Ilikethewaytheymakemyhousesmell.”
Ican’tsayanything.I’mfrozeninthismomentwithNoahsoftlygazingatme,theskinofhishandagainstmine,andmemoriesofhishungrykissswimminginmymind.Ineverwantittoend.“Andyourmomlovedflowers,right?”
Nothing,andIdomeannothing,couldhavebeenworsetosayinthismoment.Asilencesomenacingdropsbetweenusthatitpracticallytakesonaphysicalform.Itwouldbeamangnarledwithscarsandslappingabaseballbatagainsthisenormouscallousedhand.Ishouldrunscreamingintheoppositedirection.Instead,Iwatch,holdingmybreathasNoah’sbrowspinchtogetherandherisestohisfullheightagain,removinghishandfrommine.Hedoesn’tacknowledgewhatIsaid,andmaybethat’sforthebestsinceIdidn’tmeanforittocomeout.Heturnsawayanddisappearsintothekitchenwithoutanotherword.
ImentallypunchmyselfforactinglikeIwascloseenoughtohimtobringuphispainfulpastlikethat.LikeIhadanyrighttocallattentiontoit,letaloneknowthathismomlovedflowersandisn’taroundanymore.Howvulnerablehemustfeelnow.
Greatjob,BigMouth.Realcool.Can’tyoujustbenormalforlikeasecondandnotruinit?
Ishouldleave.Infact,Iwill.
ButafterpickingupthebouquetofflowersAnniegaveme,IdecidethatnowIhavetwothingstoapologizeforandsettheflowersbackdownnexttotheotherbouquet.AfterIcrosstheshopandopenthefrontdoor,Noahcallsouttomewhilereemergingfromtheback.“You’releaving?”
Ifreezeandlookbackathim.He’sholdingtwoplateswithasliceofpieoneachone.“Ithought…IthoughtyouweremadanditwasbetterifIleft.”
Herollshiseyeswithalittlehintofasmilebeforegesturingtowardtheslicesofpie.“Iwasjustgettingyouasliceofpie.Ifyou’reinterested,thatis?”Hemovesaroundthecounterandoutintothemainportionoftheshop,settingtheplatesdownonthetwo-seatertablenearthewindow.Oneplateisuncoveredandtheotherhasplasticwrapoverit.
“Somethingyouneedtoknowaboutme,”hebeginsinasoftertonethanI’veheardhimuseyet.“I’mnottalkative.”Igiveamockgaspofsurprise,whichmakeshimgrin.“AndIdon’tliketalkingaboutpersonalstuffwhenI’mnotpreparedforit.SometimesIneedaminutetoprocesswhenI’mcaughtoffguard.ButifI’mactuallymad,I’lltellyou.Idon’tbelieveinthesilenttreatmentwhenitcomestostufflikethat.”
I’mstillstandinghalfwayoutthedoorbecauseIcan’tmove.I’moverloadedwithhowincredibleandheartfeltthatspeechwas.Idon’tthinkI’veeverhadamanarticulatehisemotionssowelltomebefore.Ididn’tevenrealizethatwassomethingIshouldexpectorhopefor.It’sclearthatthere’ssomuchmoretoNoahthanhisSurlyPoseandburntorangetruck.He’sobsessedwithflowers.Isprotective.Feelsdeeply,butpreferstokeepittohimself.
AnddamnifIdon’tfindallthatsexyashell.
HeliftshiseyebrowswhenIdon’trespond.“So.Youinorout,popstar?Ifyou’rein,turnthatOpensignaroundandlockthedooronyourwaybackin.It’smylunchbreak.”
Ilaughandstepawayfromthedoor,lettingitfallshutbehindmebeforeflippingthesignandthelock.“Withyouraccent,itsortofmakesitsoundlikeyoujustcalledmeaPop-Tart.”
“No,definitelynot.”Hetakeshisseatandthenflashesmeagrin.“IactuallylikePop-Tarts.”
Ilaughandthrowapepperpacketfromthetableathishead.Itbouncesoffhischeekandhitsthefloor.Noahtskswhileleaningovertoretrieveit.“Bringingupmyfamilyhistoryandlitteringinmypieshop.AndtothinkthisishowI’mrewardedforkeepingyourasssafelastnight.”
“Ialreadyboughtyouflowersforthat.Mydebtispaidinfull.”Isitdownoppositehim,realizingbelatedlythatthistinytablemakesitsoourlegsarepressingupagainsteachother.Iwouldmovemine,buthe’snotmovinghis.Sotheretheystay.
Iclearmythroat.“Soisthismyfarewellpie?”Lookingup,Iseehisconfusedexpression.“IassumedyouaskedmetocomeheretodaybecauseI’vebeenapaininyourassandyouwantmeoutofyourhousetonightinsteadofMondaymorning.”Itphysicallyhurtstothinkofleavingthistownthedayaftertomorrow.It’stoosoon.
Noahchuckles.Actuallychuckles.It’ssodeepandrumblyIimaginepressingmypalmtohischestandfeelingthelaughwhilehearingit.Thecompleteexperience.“You’redefinitelyapaininmyass.ButI’mnotkickingyouout.Infact,justtheopposite.”Noahnervouslylickshislips.“Doyourememberanythingyousaidlastnight?”
Ididn’tuntilheasked.Butathisquestioning,mymemorieshitmeinbursts.
Mymomonlylikesmeformymoney.
I’mdrowningandnooneseesme.
Youdon’tlikemeanyway.
OhhhhhhIhateallthosewords.They’resorawandvulnerabletheymakemyskinitch.Andthat’swhyIlierightthroughmypearlywhiteteeth.“No.Idon’tremember.”
Hestudiesmeclosely,andImusthaveabetterpokerfacethanIrealizebecauseheseemstobelieveme.“Well,you—”Beforehecanfinish,there’saknockonthedoor.NoahlooksoutthewindowatthesametimeIdo,findingtwomiddle-agedmenpeeringthroughthedoor.NoahignoresthemsoIdo,too.EspeciallybecauseIhavegottoknowwhathewasgoingtosay.ThewayheleftitlingeringhasmeterrifiedthatI’mnotrememberingeverythingthereistorememberfromlastnight,andmaybeIpulledmypantsdownandmoonedhimorsomething.Orworse…didIhitonhim?!
“You’rekillingme.WhatdidIsaylastnight?”Iaskasbluntastheknifeedgepiercingmygut.Dramatic?No.Notwhenthere’sapotentialmemoryofmooninghanginginthebalance.
Hescratcheshisneck,theexactappendageIwanttostrangleatthismomentuntilhetellsmewhatIsaidanddid.
“Youtoldmeyouwere…”Helooksup,seeingmyhorrifiedexpression,andthensmilessoftly.“Tired.”
Noahhasapokerface,too.Wemightaswellbewearingneonvisorsandclutchingcardstoourchests.Westareateachother,wonderingwhowillfoldfirst.IfIadmittoknowingIneveroncesaidthewordtiredtohimlastnight,thenhe’llknowIremembermyblubberingvomitofemotionsandwe’llhavetodiscussit.I’drathernot.AndIthinkhe’drathernotaswell.
“Ah—tired,yes,”Isay,pushingmypokerchipsintothemiddleofthetable.Icall.
Hegrins.“SoIwasthinking…inlightofyoubeingso…tired—”
OurconversationisinterruptedagainbymoreknocksonthedoorandIwanttogroan.Asmallcrowdoftownspeoplearestartingtogatheroutthere.“Shouldweletthemin?”
“No,”hesayswithashakeofhisheadandthenfrownsatthewindowwhereatleasttenpeoplehavegathered,gesturingforNoahtoopenthedoor.“No!”hesayssternly.“I’mclosedforlunch.Goaway!”Heswatsattheairbuttheydon’tflee.
It’shardtofocusbutI’mdeterminedtohearwherethisconversationisgoing.Noahhasthesamethoughtsoheadjustshischair,positioninghimselfsohisbackistothewindow.Idothesame.Nowwe’renearlyshouldertoshoulder.Thisisexcruciating.
“Anyway…I,uh…Ithoughtaboutit,andI’mokaywithyoustayingwithmeuntilyourcarisfixed.”
“Youare?”Iask,turningmyfacetolookathim.We’resocloseIcanseethetipsofhiseyelashes.
Henods—pokerfacestillinplace.“Theguestroomisyoursifyouwantit.And…”Hegiveshisthroatabiguncomfortableclearing.“If…youwantatourguide,Imovedsomethingsaroundandhavesomefreetimenow.”
NowI’mblinkingasifsomeonehasjustflashedacamerainfrontofmyeyes.“AllbecauseI’m…tired?”
Mymindautocorrectsthatwordtiredtolonely,andIthinkit’sdoingthatinNoah’shead,too,buthe’stookindheartedtosayitoutloud.He’splayingalonginawaythatmakesmefeelsafeandIjustwanttoknowwhy.Anyonemighthaveheardmysloppyspeechlastnightandchosentolooktheotherway.WhatIsaidtohimismessyandcomplicated.Instead,he’schoosingtoextendahandtomeinthewater.Iseeyou.
Still,pastexperiencehasmewarytobelievehisgoodintentions.“Areyouplanningtosellthestoryofmyvisittoatabloid?Didsomeoneofferyouanexclusive?”
Helooksdeeplyoffended.Maybeevenangry.“No.”
“ThepillImeanttotakelastnightwasamigrainemedication.I’vebeengettingthemfromallthestressandmydoctorsaysIshouldtakemorebreaksandgetmorerest,butIchosemedicationinstead.That’saprettyjuicystory,areyousureyoudon’twanttosellit?”
“WhywouldIdothat?”Hisvoiceissternagain.IrritatedthatIwon’tbelievehiskindness.
Ilaughsharply.“Becauseanyoneelseintheworldwould.Myownmomhassoldpersonalstoriesaboutmetotabloidsonmultipleoccasions.”Ididn’tmeantosaythatlastpart,andIwincelightlyatmyslip.MypokerfacefaltersahairandIthinkhecanseemycards.
Noah’seyesaresoftwhenIlookathim.Heshakeshisheadthetiniestamount.“Notme.Iwouldneverdothattoyou.”
Ohno.Thosearegoodwords.Toogood.Ifeelmyhearttryingtosuckthemallupatafranticpace.It’sdangeroustoletmyselfbelievehim,andyet,Ido.
I’mnotsurewhatheseesinmyface,butitcauseshisexpressiontosoften.Helayshiscardsfaceupandhehasawinninghand.“Youcantrustme,Amelia.Iwon’texploityourtiredness.”
Andnow,I’mbeginningtothinkhe’snotwrongaboutthatchoiceofword.Iamtired.Tiredofloneliness.Tiredofdistrust.Tiredofbeingtakenadvantageof.Andtiredofhidingmyselffromeveryoneallthetime.
“Okay,”Isay,whilelookingdownatmypieandscoopingabiteontomyfork.IfIsaymorethanthat,I’llcry.AndI’vehadenoughvulnerabilityforthelasttwenty-fourhourswithoutneedingtoaddtearstoitaswell.
“Okay?Soyou’restaying.”
“I’mstaying.”Mystomachdoesalittleflip.
Noahletsoutabreathalmostlikehe’srelieved.Andthenpullsthatclassiclittlenotebookhewaswritinginfromhisbackpocketandsetsitonthetablebetweenus.“Youshouldwritedownafewthingsyouwanttodowhileyou’rehere.Sowehaveaplan.”It’sadorablehowawkwardheisrightnow.Hewon’tmakeeyecontactwithmeandit’spainfullyobviousthattalkingwithmethismuchhashimwantingtocrawloutofhisskin.Ishouldlethimoffthehookandtellhimhedoesn’thavetospendtimewithme.ButI’lldiebeforeIdothat,becauseeventhoughit’stheworstideaintheworld,IwanttospendasmuchtimewithhimasIcanwhileI’mhere.
“Becauseyou’remytourguide,”Isay,takingthenotebook.
Hefightsasmile.“BecauseI’myourtourguide.”
I’malreadybusytryingtothinkofeverythingIwanttodowhileI’mhere.DoIwanttoberestfuloradventurous?DoIwanttohideorseemoreofthetown?Ithinksomecombinationofallofit.
“Oh,butjustonething.”
Annnnndhereitis.Thecatch.Thehammer.Thethinghewantsinreturn.Iknewitwastoogoodtobetrue.
NoahleansslightlytowardmeandlowershisvoicelikemaybeallthePeepingTomsoutsidethewindowwillhearusorreadhislips.“Theothernight.WhenItoldyouIwasn’tonthemarket.”Mycheeksflushalittleatthememory.“Imeantthat.AndIthinkit’sbestifrightoutofthegatewegetthingsstraight.Thisisn’tgoingtoturnintoanythingromanticbetweenus.It’sjust…friendship.”
Ishouldbedisappointedthatmysummercampcrushisn’tinterestedinme.ButI’mnot.Becauselittledoesheknow,friendshipisexactlywhatIwant.WhatIneed.
“Perfect,”Itellhim,feelinglighterthanI’vefeltinyears.
Andthenthere’safirmknockonthewindow,makingusbothjumpandlookoverourshoulders.Mabelhashernosepressedintotheglass,andherbrowspulledtogethersternly.“NoahDanielWalker,”shesays,soundingslightlymuffledfromtheglass.“Youbetteropenup.YouknowIgetlowbloodsugar.”
Hesighsathernoseprintontheglass.“Batshitcrazytown.”Hesmiles,andit’sclearthathemeansthatasnothingbutaffectionate.
That’swhenInoticethesliceofpiesittinginfrontofhimcoveredinplasticwrap.“Wereyouplanningtoeatthat?”
“No,”hesays,standingfromthetable.“It’sforsomeoneelseI’mmeetingjustassoonasItakecareoftheseloons.”
“Youknow?Ican’thelpbutfeelit’scompletelyunfairthatyou’reallowedtohavesomanysecretswhenIcontinuetospillmine.”
“Soundslikeayouproblem,”hesayswithzerosmilebutamusementrunningthroughhisvoice,straightintothepitofmyflutterystomach.
—
Noahletsmeborrowhistrucktodrivebacktohisplace,andwiththewindowsdownandasmileonmyface,thestrangestthinghappenstome.Icatchmyselfsingingalongtotheradio.SomethingIhaven’tfeltlikedoinginawhile.Chapter15Noah
Ihaven’tseenAmeliasincethisafternoonatThePieShop.Ourmeetingwascutshort(whichIwasgladof)becausethistowncan’tholdtheirhorses.Geez.Havingtowaitfiveminutesnearlykilledthem.AfterMabelshovedhernoseontomyglasswindow,shepretendedtofaint.Miraculously,whenIopenedthedoor,thesmellofpierevivedher.
IletAmeliatakemytruckhomeandIborrowedAnnie’sformylunchdate.IknowAmeliawaseatenupwithcuriosityaboutwhoIwasmeeting,butI’mnotreadytotellheryet.Maybenever.We’llsee.ShealsolookedshockedthatI’dlendhermytruck.SheassumedIwasdoingsomethingspecialforher,butthefactis,that’sjusthowwearearoundhere.IletPhildriveittheotherdaywhenheneededtogointothelargertownanhourawaytopickupsomethingsforthehardwarestore,andthenMabeltookitlastFridaywhenshewalkedintotownandthengottootiredtowalkhome.SoshetookmytruckandthenIborrowedAnnie’stogohomeandsheendedupswappingwith…Ican’tremember.Itwasashitshowthenextday,too,whennoneofuscouldrememberwhohadtheotherone’struckandallhadtomeetintowntosortitout.
Anyway,AnniegavemearidehomefromworkalittlewhileagoandcasuallymentionedthatAmeliahadspentherafternoonatMabel’sbed-and-breakfast,helpingherrepaintthelobby.IfIknowMabel,shedidn’tliftafinger,butproppedherfeetuponthereceptiondeskandstuffedalittleumbrellainherdrinkwhileshewatchedAmeliapusharolleracrossthewallsallday.Thementalimagemakesmesmile.Ishelpingoldladiespainttheirsmall-towninncustomarybehaviorforcelebrities?Idon’tthinkso.
Unfortunately,itdidn’thelpthatmyheadwasalreadyfullofcharitablethoughtsofAmeliawhenIgothomeandrealizedshewasintheshower.Myshower.Theonerightdownthehall,soclosetomethatIcouldseethesteamcomingoutfromunderthecrackinthedoor.Shesingsintheshower,andletmetellyou,I’mnotonetospoutpoetry,butthesoundofhervoiceslidingthroughthedoorhadmewritingsonnetsinmyhead.PeoplepayhundredsofdollarstohearherperformandIgotafreefront-rowseatoflisteningtohersing“Tearin’UpMyHeart”byNSYNC.Seemsunfair.
Ineededadistractionfromhervoiceandthethoughtofherbodyandthesmellofhershampoofillingmyhome,soIturnedontheTV,andnowhereIamwatchinganoldblack-and-whitewesternwheremenarebeingshotoffhorsestoaplayfulpewpewpewsound.
It’stheperfectdistractionuntil…holyshit,Ishouldn’thavecomehomefromworkatall.I’mgoingtohavetomoveoutandletAmeliahavethishouse,becausethesightofherturningthecornerinmybluepajamabottomsbutwithonlyherblackcamisolecoveringhertophalfistoomuch.Thebottomsswallowherwholesoshehasthemrolleddownatthewaistafewtimesandthatcamisoledoesn’tquitemeetthetopofthepants.There’sthisenticinglittlebandofskinshowingallthewayaroundherbody.Thiswomanlookslikeafantasycometolife.Pluckedstraightoutofmybestdreamsandplacedrightinmylivingroom.Theaudacityofher.
IkeepverystillasAmeliapadsherbarefeetacrossmylivingroom;herdamphairisdrapedoverhershoulder,solongitnearlytouchesherwaist.Ithangsinthisloose,easygoingwaythat’ssomewherebetweenwavyandstraight.Adropofwaterclingstotheendofalockofhair,andIwatchcloselyasitletsgo,drippingdownthesideofherbarearm.ShebelongsonabeachinHawaiiwithaflowerinherhairandsandclingingtoherlegswhileaphotographersnapsphotosforaglamourmagazine.Sheshouldn’tbeinmytiny,unimportantlivingroomsmilingatmeinawayIdefinitelydon’tdeserve.Andyet,IfindmyselfwantingtotracealinearoundhersmilinglipssoIcanalwaysremembertheshapeofthem.Iwanttowindherlongthickhairaroundmyhandandwrist.Iwanttobrushmyfingersacrossheraccentuatedcollarbones.Shit,noneofthatisgood.
SheopenshermouthbutIbarkfirst.“Where’sthetopofthosepajamas?”
Amelia’seyebrowsraise.Herfaceiscleanofmakeuprightnow,andunfortunately,she’ssomehowprettierthisway.“Inmyroom.Don’tworry,Ihaven’tlostyourpreciousChristmasgiftpj’s.”That’swhatshethinksI’mworriedabout?
AmeliasitsdownbesidemeandIstandup.Welooklikewe’reonaseesaw.“Wait,whereareyougoing?Iwantedtoshowyouthis.”
Idon’tknowwhatthisisbecausemybackistoher.IsliparoundthecornerwhereIfindthethermostatandturnitdownto60degrees.MyoldACunitturnsonwitharoarandonlythendoIfeelcomfortableenoughtotakemyseatagainonthecouch.Faraway.Nearlysittingonthearmrest.
IfsherealizesI’mactingweird,fightingwitheveryfiberofmybeingtokeepmyeyesfromdroppingtoherchest,shedoesn’tleton.ShesmilesbrightlyatmeandthentossesthenotepadIgaveherthismorningontomylap.Sheturnstofaceme,pullingherlegsupunderher.Alittletoocomfythereifyouaskme.Iwanttoputmyfingeronherkneeandslowlyslidehertotheoppositeendofthecouch.
“Ifinishedit!Thelist,”shesays,noddingtowardthenotepadinahopefultone.
Idragmyeyesawayfromherbeautifulface.(Shoot,notbeautiful.Just…fine,it’sbeautiful.)Lookatthedamnlist.JustasI’mabouttostartreading,Inoticeashiverracethroughher.“Cold?”Iask,alittletooeagerly.
“Yeah.Doesitfeellikeitjustgotsupercoldinhereallofasudden?”
Ishrugwithalightfrownandthenshootfromthecouchtograbaplushblanketthatwasdrapedoverthearmchair.Ibringitbackwithme,hugitaroundhershoulders,andthenstartwrappingitaroundherlikeplasticwrap,allthewayuptoherneck.She’sahumanburrito.Igivetheoverlappingcorneronegoodyanktomakesureshe’sniceandsnugandthenItuckitintothetop(whichissittingjustbelowherearlobes).Hereyesflarewidewithdisbeliefbecauseshecan’ttellifI’mplayingornot.I’mnotplaying.Imadeahomemadechastityblanket.
“Umm…thankyou?”shesays,closetolaughing.
Feelingprettysecurenow,Isitbackdownbesideher,pickupthenotebook.“Justtryingtobehospitable.”
“Right.Mr.Hospitality.That’sdefinitelythetitlethatcomestomindwhenIthinkofNoahWalker.”Icutmyeyestoherheadpokingoutthetopoftheplushburritoandit’simpossibletokeepthesmilefrommyface.ShestilllookstoodamncutesoIturnmyeyesdownandreadherlist.
1.Explorethetown
2.Gofishing
3.Dosomethingexciting
4.PlayScrabble
5.TeachmehowtomakeNoah’spancakes
“PlayScrabble?”Iask,loweringthelisttolookather.She’ssomehowmanagedtoloosentheburritoandnowhasitlooselydrapedaroundhershouldersandopeninthefrontlikeanormalpersonwouldwearablanket.Itdoesn’tworkformeatall.
“Yep.”Sherunsherfingersthroughherhairlikeabrush.
“Youdon’tneedmetoplayScrabble.”
“Itwouldbeboringtoplaybymyself.I’dwinforsure.”
Igiveheraderisivelook.“WhatImeanis,youcanplayScrabbleanywhere.That’snotuniquetoourtown.”
Shepullsherfeetoutfromunderherandwrapsherarmsaroundherknees,huggingthemtoherchest,andthankGod,wrapsthatblanketallthewayaroundheragain.“Actually…Ihaven’tbeenabletofindanyonebackhomewhowantstoplay.”
IstareatAmelia’ssoftfaceanddownturnedeyesasshepretendstopickattherednailpolishonhertoenails,butIknowshe’sonlyavoidingeyecontactbecauseshe’sembarrassed.AsurgeofprotectivenessramsthroughmybodyandsuddenlyIwanttohuntdownanyonewhohaseverturnedherdownforagameofScrabbleandforcethemtoplayallnightwithher.Andyou’regoingtosmileandlikeit!Whatkindofassholewouldn’twanttobefriendswithher?She’ssweet.Funny.Easygoing.Gorgeous.It’sunfathomablethatshe’ssingle.
“We’llsee,”Isay,attemptingtosoundharshandnoncommittaleventhoughwebothknowI’mgoingtodoit.Ireadthelistagain.“Exciting,huh?What’syourdefinitionofexciting?”
“Susanwouldsayanythingthatcouldpotentiallybreakabone,makemesmile,orgenerallygetmyheartrateupatall.”
“Well,thattakessexwithmeoffthetable.”Iwincethemomentit’soutofmymouth.Herjawdrops.“I’msorry…Imeantitasajokebutmydeliveryisalwaystoodryand—”
“Don’tbesorry!”Herfacelightsupwithjoy.“Youjoked!Mr.ClassicManjustmadeadirtyjokeandnowIhavetowriteitinmyjournalasthebestdayofmylife.”
“IthoughtIwasMr.Hospitality?”
Shepokesmycheek.“Whatotherjokesdoyouhaveinthere?”
Ithrowmybodydramaticallytothesidelikeherstrengthknockedmeover.“Geez,don’tbesorough.”
She’sshakingherheadnow,awidesmileonhermouth,eyesbrimmingwithdelight.“Idon’tevenknowwhoyouareanymore.”
Irightmyselfandclearmythroat.It’stimetogetseriousandquitplayingaround.Playingaroundleadstoflirting.Andflirtingleadstotrouble.“BacktoyourSusan.Didyoutellheryou’restayingintownlonger?”
“Yes.Anditdidnotgowell.”
“Didshegiveyoucrapaboutit?”
Shefillsherchestwithairandherlipsflapanimatedlywhensheletsitout.Ilovethissideofher.Themessy,not-so-put-togetherwoman.Itsuitsher.“Shewaslivid.TriedtoconvincemethatIwasbeingrecklessandselfishbynottellingherwhereIamandbailingonbusinessengagementsthatIdidn’tevenagreeto!”Hervoicerisesonthelastpart,andIsortofloveseeingthisfireinher.
“AndthensheprieditoutofmethatIwasstayingwithasingleman…andinanattempttomakeyousoundharmless,Itoldheryou’reapieshopowner,andthenImighthaveaccidentallytalkedyouupquiteabitandnowshe’sconvincedI’mabouttothrowawaymyentirecareerforaguy.”
Iliftabrow.“Youtalkedmeup?What’dyousay?”
Hercheeksflushandshedodgesthequestionwitharollofhereyes.“Doesn’tmatter.Istillcan’tbelieveI’mhereandgoinghead-to-headwithSusanlikethis.Ihaven’t…Ihaven’tdoneanythingformyselfinyears.”ShepausesandIdon’trushtofillthesilence.“Susanwasn’tcompletelywrong,though.LeavingtownwithoutabodyguardorhavinganyonefrommyteammakesureIhadsafeaccommodationswaitingformewasreckless.”Asoftsmiletugsatherlips.Likeshewantstofeelproudbutisn’tsurewhethershe’ssupposedtoornot.
Ilookdownatthenotepadinmyhandandthenpickupthepen.“Whatareyoudoing?”sheasksasImarkoffDoSomethingExcitingfromherlist.
“Congrats.Youalreadyaccomplishedonethingfromyourlistallonyourown.”
Ameliastaresatthatcrossed-offitemandlooksasifshewantstoclutchittohercheeklikeshedidmyhandlastnight.Hereyesarefilledwithemotion,andIcantellshe’sbreathingdeepertokeepfromtearingup.Nope.Notears,please.I’mnotgoodatthose.
Inanattempttolightenthemood,Ilightlytapmyknuckleagainstherkneeandregretthecontactinstantly.“Notthatyouneedmyapproval,butIthinkgettingawaywastherightchoice.YourSusansoundslikearealkilljoy.”
Amelialaughsandlaysherheadtothesideonthecouchcushion.MyeyestracethelongexposedlineofherthroatandwhenImakeittoherfaceagain,Ameliaisstaringrightatme.“Oh,sheis.Thatwomandoesn’tletmedoanything.But…she’sgoodatherjob.Andistheonetothankformycareerreachingtheheightit’satnow.Plus,inherweirdway,she’sbeenthereformemorethanmyownmomhaslately.”
“Butyou’renothappy,”Isayashalfquestion,halfstatement.EverythinginmescreamsthatIdon’tcareifshe’shappyornot.Idon’tevenwantherinmyhouseortakingupspaceonmycouchorforcingmetobekindtoherwithherbigpuppydogeyesandsunshinepersonality.Butdamnit,ifIdon’tcare,thenwhyamIasking?WhyamIalreadybrainstormingideasofotherplacesIcantakeherwhileshe’shere?Whosheshouldmeet.Whatwouldmakehersmile.Whatcouldpotentiallymakeherlookatmewithwarmthinhereyes.I’msomadatmyselfrightnowIcouldkickthewall.
“SometimesI’mhappy.”Shekeepshereyesdowntowhereshe’sresumedpickinghernailpolishoffandplacingthechipsinaneatlittlepile.“OratleastIusedtobe.Ithink.”
Sheturnsherfaceaway,andIcantellshe’sreadyforthisconversationtobeover.Iunderstandthatfeelingperfectlywell,soIwon’tpushit.Shecantalktomewhenshe’sready.Orneverifshedoesn’twantto.Doesn’tmattertome.I’mjustheretobeasafeplaceforhertohideawayforalittlewhile,becauseit’swhatmygrandmawouldhavemedo.
HereyesnagsonsomethinginmykitchenandIwatchasasoftsmilecurlsonherfulllips.“TheflowersIgaveyou.Youputtheminavase.”
I’mpuddinginherhands.Spineless,melted,wobbly,pointlesspudding.
“Oneofmymom’soldvases,actually.Mydadgaveittoher.”I’mnotabletolookawayfromhersoftsmile,andI’msoangrythatIcan’tkeepthefactsofmylifehiddenfromherlikeIwant.Iusuallydon’tliketalkingaboutmyparents.Oranythingthatmakesmefeelingeneral.I’mnotbigonsharingmyemotionswithpeople.Butforsomereason,whenAmelia’sblueeyessliptome,Ifeelstripped.Iwanttotellhereverything.
“TheybothdiedwhenIwasten.”Iswallow.“Theywerebigoutdoorsypeopleandlovedtogoonextremehikesforvacations.TherewasafreakaccidentwhiletheywerecampingfortheiranniversaryinColorado.Stormcameoutofnowhere…and…therewasalotoflightning,andwell,theydidn’tmakeitoffthemountain.Mygrandmatookoverguardianshipandraisedmeandmysistersafterthat.”
Amelia’shanddropstomineandshesqueezes.“I’msosorry.”Hervoiceisnothingbutgentleness.Andthewayshe’slookingatme,it’sbeenalongtimesinceanyonehaslookedatmelikethat.Likeshewishesshecouldtakecareofme.Theskinofherhandissoft,andthesmellofherbodywashissomethingwarmandcomforting,andbecauseIsuddenlyfindmyselfwantingtoleanintoherandkissalineupherexposedthroat,Istandup.Pullingmyhandoutfromhers,Iheadintothekitchenjustbehindthesofa.There.Amuch-neededbarrier.
“Itwasalongtimeago.Noneedtobesorryforanything.”Where’smymetaltrashcan?I’llhappilyclimbinsideandpulldownthelidrightnow,becauseIlikebeingOscartheGrouch.Thattrashcaniscomfy,andI’vereallymadeithomeyinthere.Keepsstrangersout,andevenbetter,keepsbeautifulsingerswhowillonlytreatmyheartlikeanall-you-can-eatbuffetatadistance.
Shehesitatesamoment.“Okay.Areyousureyoudon’twantto—”
“Nope,”Iinterruptwhileslappingmybaseballhatbackonmyhead,knowingshewasgoingtooffertotalkmoreaboutit.Believeme,thelastthingIwanttodoistalk.Aboutanything.Ever.Wordsmakemeuncomfortable.AndwhywouldIshareanythingwithherwhenshe’llbegonebeforeIknowit?
Shelaughslightly—butnotwithamusement.It’smorelikebewilderment.“Idon’tknowwhattothinkaboutyou,Noah.”
Ipickupmykeys.“Justdon’tthinkaboutmeatallandyou’llbefine.”Iwanttolookbackather,whichiswhyIdon’t.“I’llbebacklate.There’sleftovervegetablestewinthefridge.Don’ttakeanymoresleepingpills.Oh,andbytheway.”Ipauseandgiveintotemptation,lookingbackatherwidepuppydogeyesonelasttimetonight.“Youcan’thavemypancakerecipe.It’sasecret.”Chapter16Noah
Afterparkingmytruck,IwalktoThePieShop,andseethatmysistershavealreadybeatenmehere.It’sdarkoutsidesoI’mabletoseeastraightshotintothelit-upshop,cardtableinthecenteroftheusuallyopenarea,junkfoodonthecountertop,andmysistersallgatheredaroundthetabledrinkingandlaughing.It’sSaturdaynight,akaournighttogettogetherandplayhearts.We’vebeendoingitsinceIcamebacktotownthreeyearsago.Andsincenoneofuseverhaveanythingtodoontheweekend(singletonspartyoffour)werarelymissaSaturdaynight.Despitethefactthatwe’reprettymuchondisplay,it’safterbusinesshours,andthetownknowsnottodisturbus.Becauseifthere’sanythingcitizensofRome,Kentucky,love,it’sfamilialtraditions.Nowayinhellthey’dstandinthewayofthat.
Iopenthedoorandstepinsidetothecheersandwhistlesofmyoverzealousbabysisters.“Thereheis!Casanova!”yellsEmily,withherhandscuppedaroundhermouth.
“No!NotCasanova…somethingmoretragicandbrooding.Romeo,forsure,”saysMadison.
Iflipthemalloffandgoovertothecounter,whereIsetdownthecaseofbeerIpickeduponthewayin.Itlookslikeeachofmysistersbroughtacase,too,soItakethisoneintothebacktostickinthefridgefornextweek.WhenIreturntotheshopfront,mysistersarestilldebatingmynickname.Theythinktheyareabsolutelyhilarious.
Emilyiskickedbackwithhertube-sockedfeetuponthecardtable,catchingjellybeansinhermouthinbetweendebates.Annieissittingcross-leggedatthetable,readingabookandmindingherownbusinessasusual.AndMadisonissittingonthecardtable,paintinghertoenails.Shealwayskeepsnailpolishinherpurseformomentslikethis.
“Gross,”Isay,comingoverandtakingthebrushfromherhand,returningittothebottle,andscrewingonthelid.“Nowtheshopisgoingtosmelllikethisshittomorrow.”
Shestickshertongueoutatmeactingmorelikethechildrensheteachesthananadult.Thenagain,teachinghasalwaysseemedlikeanoddcareerchoiceforher.She’salwayslovedtocook—eventeachesacookingclassonenightaweekduringthewinter—andIalwaysthoughtshe’dendupgoingtoculinaryschool.Instead,shesurprisedusallbystayinginRomeandfollowinginEmily’sfootsteps,becominganelementary-schoolteacher.SometimesIworrythatMadisonadherestoomuchtowhatEmilywants—evendowntobothteachingatthesameschool—whenactuallyshe’smorefittosomethingfreer.Moreexplorative.
“You’rejustannoyedbecausewegaveyouanickname,LoverBoy,”saysMadison
“Don’tcallmeLoverBoy.”Well,shoot.Thatwasamistake.Iknowbetterthantotelltheseladiesnottodoanything,itjustmakesthemwanttodoitthatmuchharderandwithgreedysmilesontheirfaces.Lookatthem.Theireyesareglowingnow.Annoyingmeistheircalling.
EvenquietAnnieshutsherbookandplaysalong.“Whynot,LoverBoy?”
Igroanandgrababeerfrombehindmeonthecounter.I’dleaveifIdidn’tlovethemsomuch.
Mysisterslaugh,andEmilymovesherfeettothefloortogivehermoreteasingleverage.“Aw,LoverBoy,doyounotlikethenickname?”
Madisonpracticallycroons,“Comeon,LoverBoy,beagoodsportandgrabmethatbagofpotatochipsbeforeyousitdown.”
Thesewomen.
Luckily,IhavesomuchdirtonthemIcouldmakeawholenewcontinent.IlookatEmily.“ShouldItellthemaboutMaytwenty-third?”Hersmiledrops.“Mm-hmm.Thoughtso.”IturntoMadisonnext.“HowaboutthenameoftheguyIsawleavingyourhousethemorningafterEmilyandAnniewenttopickupthatfarmhousetableinAlabama?”Madisonzipsherlips.
I’mjustabouttounleashmyblackmailonAnniewhensheholdsupherhand.“Saveit.Pointmade.We’llshutup.”
“Thankyou,”Isay,takingmyseatatthetableandstealingoneofEmily’sjellybeans.“Now,canwegetthegamegoing,please?”
Emilystartsdealing.“Fine.Butyou’rebeingakilljoy.”
HerwordsimmediatelysnapmebacktothatmomentonthecouchwithAmelia.Ican’tstopthinkingaboutherandwhatshesaid.SometimesI’mhappy.Atleast,Iusedtobe.Ithink.ButIdon’twanttothinkaboutAmeliatonight,soIforcemyselftofocusoncardswithmysisters.
Weplayafewroundsofheartsandshootthebreezeuntiltheycan’tstayquietaboutitanylonger.Theyareallthreepracticallyvibratingwithunaskedquestions.Theirbodiescan’ttakeitanymoreorthey’lljustpassout.
“Soooo,”Emilystarts.Iraisemysecondbeertomylipsandtakealongsip,watchingherwithnarrowedeyes.“HowareyoufeelingaboutAmelialeavingonMondaybecauseyouwon’tletherstayatyourplace?”
“Amelia,isit?”Iask,tryingtosoundnonchalant.
“Yeah,shetolduseverything,includinghername.Weofferedtoletherstaywithussinceyou’rebeingrude.ToldhershecouldhavemybedandI’dsleeponthecouch,butshe’stooniceandsaidshewouldn’tputusoutlikethat.”
Yep.Amelia’sgotthemunderherspelljustasIsuspectedshewould.
Isetmybeerdowncarefullyandtrynottoacttooeagertodiscussher.“Thoughtfulofyouguys.”
“Mm-hmm,”Madisonsays,layingdownafiveofclubs.Hereyespopuptominewithanamusedglint.Icantellshe’stryingtooutsmartmeinmorethanjustthiscardgame.“Doesitannoyyouthatyou’renottheonlyonesheconfidedin?”
Iholdhergaze.“Notabit.ShecantellthewholedamntownandIwouldn’tcare.”
Iwouldcare.Ido,infact.
Theyallgrumbleandgruntandrolltheireyesbecausetheonlythingthesegirlshatemorethannotmakingfunofmeisbeingleftoutoftheloop.Ithrowthemabonebecausethey’llforeverbefive,six,andeightyearsoldinmyeyes,beggingmetotakethemalongonmyadventureswithJames.“Itoldherearliertodaythatshecouldstaywithmeuntilhercarwasfixed,though.”
Theyallsqueal.Myeardrumsburst.Iregretallmychoices.
“Allright,allright,”Isay,rubbingmyearandthenstandingtogograbanotherbeer.BecauseI’mgoingtoneedit.
Emilypointsanaccusingfinger.“Youdolikeher!Iknewit!LoverBoystrikesagain!”
“Idonot.”Ipopthetopoffmybeer.“Ijustfeelpityforherandlookingoutforheristherightthingtodo.”
Madisonwagshereyebrows.“Lookoutforherorcheckherout?”
“I’mserious.Nothing’sgonnahappenbetweenus.She’sjustpassingthroughtownandneedsaplacetocrashwhileshe’shere.Besides”—IsitbackdownatthetableandlookatmyhandofcardsagainlikeI’mactuallypayingattentiontothisgame—“IalreadytoldherI’mnotinterested.”
“Youdidn’t,”Madisonsays.She’sneverbeenmoredisappointedinme.
“Idid.It’sonlyrighttosetexpectationsupfront.I’llbeherfriend,nothingmore.”
Emilyliftshereyebrowswhilestaringathercards.“Well.Probablysmart.It’sfuntoteaseyou,butIagreewithnotpursuingher.You’renotreallytheflingtypeofguyandshe’llhavetoleaveeventually…andyoucan’tgowithher.”WeallfeelthewarninginEmily’svoiceinthatlaststatement.Shestillhasn’tfullyforgivenmeformovingawaywithMerritttoNewYork.IthinkEmilywastheonlyonewhowasn’tupsetwheneverythingblewupbetweenmeandmyex-fiancéebecausesheknewitmeantIwouldstayintownforgood.
Madisonisappalled.“No!Notsmart!You’reanidiot,Noah,andIwanttopushyourchairover.”
“Soviolent.Playyourhand,Annie.”Wealllookuptoseewhat’sholdingAnnieup.She’ssmilingatme.Asoft,knowingsmilethatpricklesatme.Anniehasalwaysseemedtounderstandmebetterthanmyothersisters,anditgratesonmethatsheknowssomethingnowthatI’mdesperatelytryingtopretenddoesn’texist.
Ichugtherestofmybeeranddecidetohaveanother…andthenanother…andanother.Chapter17Amelia
It’smidnightandNoahisn’tbackyet.NotsurewhyI’mfrettingaroundlikeawifewhosehusbanddidn’tcomehometonight,butIam.Doeshenormallystayoutthislate?Whatistheretoevendointhistownaftertenp.m.?I’monlyworriedbecauseIthinkIupsethimearliertryingtotalkabouthisparents.WhatIneedtodoisquittryingtopursuethisoddsenseoffriendshipbetweenNoahandme,andletitgo.He’sessentiallymyAirbnb/tourguide.WhenIleavetown,hewon’tthinkofmeagain.Hemadeitperfectlyclearthathewasn’tinterestedinme.Justletitgo,Amelia.Andgreat…nowI’msingingthesongfromFrozenbecauseit’sliterallyimpossibletosaythatphraseanymorewithoutsingingit.
Wait,Ihearsomething.Itsoundslikea…
AH—atruck!
IlettheblindsIwasfreakishlypeekingthroughsnapbackintoplaceanddiveawayfromthewindow.WhatshouldIdo?!WheredoIhide?Hecan’tknowIwasjuststandinginherelikeapsychowaitingforhimtogetback.
IhearthedoortothetruckslamshutandIyelp.He’scomingandIhavethehousestilllitupliketheFourthofJuly.There’snowayhewon’tknowI’mwaitingup.Orwait.Hedoesn’thavetoknowI’mwaitingup.ForallheknowsI’manightowlandthisishowlifeworksforme.Yes,I’macelebritywithathrivingnightlife.That’swhatI’mgoingtolethimbelieveatleast.
Iraceintothelivingroomandslideinmysocksacrossthefloor,reenactingRiskyBusinessinmyoversizedbutton-downpjshirtofhis.Also,hello,Amelia,where’syourpants?YOUNEEDPANTS.Yearsofskimpystagecostumesandmagazinecovershavedesensitizedmetomodesty,andIforgetotherpeopledon’twalkaroundhalfnudelikeIdo.
NowI’macartoontryingtogaintractionwhilerunninginplaceasIslipandslidemywaytomyroom,jerkmylegsintothepajamabottoms,andracebacktothelivingroomanddiveontothecouch.There’sablanketnearbysoIsnatchitandcocoonmyselfinsideitsimilartohowNoahwrappedmeearliertoday.Doesthislookstaged?DoesitlooklikeIhaven’tmovedsinceheleft?Thatseemscreepiersomehow.Atthelastsecond,Idecidetoditchtheblanket,shutofftheTV,andrunintothebathroom.That’samorenormalthingtodoanddoesn’tscreamIHAVEACRUSHONYOUANDHAVEBEENWAITINGUPTOSEEYOU.
ThesecondIshutthebathroomdoor,Ihearthefrontdooropen.Isagagainstthedoorandcatchmybreath.IfliponthewatertomakeitsoundlikeI’mwashingmyhands—buysmeanextrathirtysecondsofrecovery.Exceptit’scuttofifteensecondswhenIhearacrashinthelivingroom.
Ohshit.IsthatnotNoahoutthere?Maybeit’sanintruder.AstalkerwhofoundoutwhereI’mstaying.WhatshouldIdo?Icouldcallouthisnamebutthenitwouldalsoalertmypresencetothecreepinthelivingroom.Ilookaroundthebathroomandfindamirror.Thankstothemoviethatruinedmychildhood,Iknowwhattodowiththisthing.(ThemoviewasSignsincaseyouwerewonderinganditwashorrifying.)
IslipthemirrorunderthedoorandangleitsoIcanseeintothelivingroom.It’stoughertomaneuverthanitlookedinthemovie,butIfinallygetittowork.That’swhenIseeNoahcroucheddownscoopingsomethingupfromthefloor
Whew.
Notgoingtodietonight.Whatarelief.
Givingmyselfaquickonce-overinthemirror,andnotchoosingtowonderwhyIcaresomuchwhathethinksofhowIlook,Iputthemirrorbackandgooutintothelivingroom.
Noahishunchedoverapileofbrokenglassfromalampthathemusthaveknockedofftheendtableandisscoopingitup…withhishands.HehissesandhismusclesbunchunderneathhisT-shirtwhenashardofglassprickshishand.
“Noah!”ImovequicklytohissidesoIcantugonhisarm,gettinghimtoleavetheglassaloneandstand.“Dropthose!Whatareyoudoingpickingupglasswithyourbarehands?”
WhenIgetthemanstanding,heimmediatelyswaysasifwe’reonashipanditwasjustpummeledbyamassivewave.Ihavetowrapmyarmsaroundhistorsojusttokeephimfromstumblingbackward.“I’ms’fine,”hesaysinalongslur,butnotfightingmyhelp.
“Noah,areyou…drunk?”IaskonceIhavehimsafelystandingandcanreleasehim.Iwon’tlie,Idon’treallywanttoletgo.Thismanissturdyasanoaktree.Holdingontohimlikethis,Icanconfirmthateverythingbelowthisthincottonshirtissolidmuscle.Tempting,well-formedmuscle.Howdoesabakergetabodylikethat?Notfair.
WhenIstepback,Ilookupintohisgrinningface.Helooksalmostboyishrightnow.Ican’thelpbutchucklebecausehishatisoffandhishairisallaskewandstickinguplikehe’sbeenrunninghishandsallthroughit.OrIassumeit’sNoahwho’sbeenrunninghishandsthroughit.Butmaybeitwasawoman.Maybeit’sthemysteriouswomanhekeepsmeetingforlunch.Whydoesthatinspireajealouslittletrolltojumponmybackandtauntmetostartawar?
“Yeah.Thegirlscandrinkmeunderthetable.Butdon’tworry,Ididn’tdrivemysmelfhome,”hesays,swayingheavilyagain.ThistimeItakehisarmandwrapitaroundmyneck,steeringhimawayfromthepileofglassonthefloorsoIcanplophimdownontothecouch.Hefallsontothecushionslikeatreefallingintheforest—onhisstomachwiththesideofhisfacesmashedontothecushion,armdanglingoffontothefloor.
Iwouldtakeaminutetoadmirethewayhisbodytakesupthisentirecouch,butmymindistoobusyobsessingoverthewordgirls.Plural.IsNoahaplayboy?Howwouldthatevenbepossibleinatownthissize?Althoughit’salwaysthesmalltownsyouhavetowatchoutfor.TheyaretheonesyouseesurfaceinNetflixdocumentariesabouthowtheyhadawholeundergroundmethlab.
“Girls,huh?”Iask,proppingmyhandsonmyhipsandstaringdownathimlikeIhaveanyrighttobeannoyed.
Hesmiles.SMILES.It’sblinding.Myheartstopsandthenstartsagain,gallopingrightoutofmychest.GoodGouda,thatmanhasgorgeousteeth.Andcrinklesbesidehiseyes.Whenhesmileslikethat,helookssoapproachableandcomfythatIwanttodrapemyselfoverhimandjustsqueezehiminagianthug.He’shuggable.TheGrumpyPieShopownerisabsolutelyhuggable.
Hewagshiseyebrows.“Youjealous?”
Andhe’sflirting.
Noahissmiling,andflirting,andrumpled,andwow.IlikedrunkNoahalot.Actually,IlikeeveryversionofNoahandthat’sarealproblem.
“No.”Ikneeldownbesidehimandpickuphisarm.Hedoesn’tresist.JuststaresatmewithasmilehitchingthesideofhismouthasIraisehispalmforinspection.JustasIsuspected:he’sbleeding.“I’mjustwonderingwhythesemysteriousgirlsgotyoudrunkbutthenleftyoutotakecareofyourselftonight.ButI’mthankfulyoudidn’tdriveyourselfhomeatleast.”
Igingerlysetdownhishandandleavehissidetogorummagethroughhiskitchendrawersandcabinets.“Anna-Bananadroppedmeoff.Oopssss.Igaveawaythemystery.Iwaswithmysisters.”
Ipausemyrummagingmid-drawertosmile.Tensionslidesoffmyshouldersandtheburninginmychestdissipates.JealousLittleTrollhopsoffmybackandreturnstohisbedforthenight.Iwon’tletmyselfconsiderwhyIfeltsuchastrongreactiontoNoahbeingwithotherwomen.Itdoesn’tmatter.Itcan’tmatter.He’safriend,Amelia,getitthroughyourhead!
“Whydidn’tshecomeinside?”Iask,strikingoutwithanotherdrawer.Igotothebackofthecouchandpeekoverthetop.Noah’seyesareshutbuthe’sstillgrinninglikeadrunkenfool.Iloveit.
“I’spectshe’stryingtomakesureyoutakecareofme.”
“Me?”
Hecracksopenaneye.“Yeah,you.She’sscheming.She’saschemer.”
“Whywouldshedothat?”Ishouldn’tbebaitinghimforanswerslikethiswhilehe’soutofhiswitsbutIcan’thelpit.HistongueislooseandIfeellikethisistheonlytimeI’llgetastraightansweroutofhim.
Orapparentlynot.
Hesmileswiderandraisesafingerintheair.“Nicetry.I’mnotthatdrunk.”
“Hmm.Can’tblameagirlfortrying.”Inudgehisshoulder.“Whereisyourfirstaidkit?”
Hechucklesdeepandlowinhischest.“WhodoyouthinkIam?Amom?Idon’thaveafirstaidkit.”Thosewordswereparticularlydifficultforhimtogetout.“BoxofBand-Aidsisinthebathroom,though.”
IhurrytothebathroomtofindaBand-Aid.Ihavetopushasidehisdeodorantandtoothpaste,razor,andbottleofcolognebeforeIfindtheboxofBand-Aidssmooshedintothebackofthedrawer.WhatIreallywanttodoisopenthatdeodorantstickandsniffituntilIpassout,butIdon’tbecauseI’mforcingmyselftoactlikeacivilizedwomanPolite,polite,polite.
…Onesniffofcolognewon’thurtanyone,though.Idoit,andI’mimmediatelyaddicted.Isprayatiny—nearlymicroscopic—spritzontomyPJs.Reckless,reckless,reckless.
WhenIgobackintothelivingroomwithadamphandtowelandaBand-Aid,Noahlookslikehe’salmostasleep.Hissmilehasfadedandhe’sasleepybear.Socuddlyandapproachable.Ifhewereawake,he’dsnarlandbarehisteethasIapproachhim,butrightnow,he’spliableandwarm.Isitdownonthefloorbesidethecouchandlifthishandagain.There’salittlestreamofblooddrippingdownhispalm,butIdon’tthinkitlooksbadenoughtoneedstitches.Ialsodon’tseeanyshardsofglass,sothat’sgood.
It’sironicthatlastnighthetookcareofmewhenIwasunconscious,andnowI’mtakingcareofhim.I’mnotupsetabouttheopportunitytolevelthefieldabit.
Carefully,Ipatthedamppapertowelacrosshiscuttocleanhimup.Hishandsarelikebig,hotbricks.Hehasthoselargemanknuckles,too.Calluseslinethetopofhispalms,andifIhadtoguess,I’dsayhe’snevertouchedlotionadayinhislife.Ican’thelpbutstare,tracingalinewithmygazefromthetipsofhisfingersallthewayuphispalmandwrist,turningmyheadtoslidemyeyesuphismasculineforearmandbiceptohisshoulder.ThereIfindhisstartlinggreeneyesblinkingatme.
IclearmythroatandwhipmyheadbackaroundtoplastertheBand-Aidonhispalm.Ineedtoquitthisfutilepining.He’s.Not.Into.You.Amelia.
IworkquicklywithNoah’sarmdrapedovermyshoulder,palmnearlyinmylap.Hedoesn’tmoveorfightme.WhichisgoodbecauseIneedtofinishthisup,cleantheglassshardsoffthefloor,andgetmybuttbackintomybedroombeforeIfallinlovewithhim.
“Thereyago,”Isay,givingthebackofhishandagentlepatandthenslidingoutfromunderhisarm.“Alldoctoredup.Thatwillbeathousanddollarsformyservice.”Itwistaroundtolookathim,andwhenIdo,heraiseshishandandrunsthebackofhisknucklesagainstmyjaw.Sotenderly,likehe’safraidifhisbigbearpawcomesincontactwithmyskinitwillbruiseme.Ishiver.
“You’resopretty,”hesays,withoutaslurbutwordsheavywithsleep.“Andyousinglikeanangel,too.”
“Thankyou.”Asoftjoyousemotionbubblesfromthepitofmystomach.Iknowhe’sdrunk.Iknowhedoesn’tmeanthis.ButIstillwanttocatchhiswordsinanetlikebutterflies.“Andyou’resweet.Likepowderedsugar.”HiseyesdroptomymouthandIfeelmystomachlurchintomythroat.“Sodamnsweet.”
IsmileandNoahhookshisfingerundermychinandgentlytugsmetowardhim.“CanIkissyou?Justonemoretime?”
Mybreathfreezesinmylungs.Iwanttolethimkissmemorethananything.Hislipsonmylipswouldbeincredible—Iknowfromexperience.ButIcan’tlethim,because,youknow…alcoholandallthat.Itwouldn’tbefairtokissamanwho’snotfullypresentinhissenses.
Soinstead,ItipforwardandIkisshisforehead.It’sasoftlittlepeck—there’snoreasonthisnonlipcontactshouldfeellikealightningstrikeintherain.Butitdoes.Thefeelofmylipsagainsthisskin,theclosenessofourfacesandbodies—itallpulsesthroughme.AndwhenNoahbreathesindeepandlightlyhumsasoundofdelightinthebackofhisthroat,I’mpermanentlychanged.
Ibreakcontactandlookathim.
“Thanks,”hesaysandhisthumblightlystrokesmyjawline.It’sanindulgentgesture.Sosweetmybonesache.SowarmI’llneverneedablanketagain.EvendrunkNoahknowshowtobetenderandsafe.
Hiseyesdon’topenagain,buthedoessmile.Ican’thelpbutsithereandstareathimashisbreathingturnsheavyandhishandfallsaway.Iwanttofigurehimout—butI’mafraidIneverwill.He’sgruffandcurt,andalsopoeticandkind.Hedoesn’twantmeinhishousebuthegoesoutofhiswaytomakesureI’mcomfortableandtakencareof.He’sstrongandcalloused,buttenderandaffectionate.He’snotinterestedbutheasksforanotherkiss.
IfinallycleanuptheglassandcoverNoahwithablanket,andwhenI’mburiedunderthesoftpatchworkquiltonmybed,IfallasleeptothesmellofNoah’scologneandthemisplacedhopethatonedaywe’llkissagain.Chapter18Noah
Morninghitslikeabricktothehead.
ApparentlyatsomepointinthenightIstumbledmywaytomybed.It’sweirdhowdrunkversionsofourselvescanfeelliketotallydifferentpeople.Forinstance,nowthatI’msober,I’mabletocringethatIwassodrunkIonlymanagedtopullmyshirtoffovermyheadandoutofonearm.IthangslimplyoffoneshoulderuntilIripitallthewayoffandthrowitacrosstheroomtomylaundryhamper.Justthatslightmovementmakesmewonderifsomeonereplacedmybrainwithaspikeball.Hangovershitdifferentaftertheageofthirty,whichiswhyInevergetdrunkanymore.Anddefinitelynotatgamenightwithmysisters.ItwastheonlywayIcouldgetthroughit,though.TheycontinuedtopeltmewithquestionsaboutAmeliaanditwasallIcoulddotostopthinkingabouther.Alcoholwasmyonlyshield,whichactuallyturnedouttobetheknifeIstabbedmyselfinthebackwith.
Igroan,rollingoverinbedandwipingmyfacewithmyhand.Ifeelasoftscratchofsomethingacrossmyfaceandsquintatmypalm.ABand-Aid.Annnnnndthereitis.Fuzzymemoriesoflastnightcomebacktome.IremembergettinghomeandbreakingalampwhenIbumpedintothetable.ItriedtocleanitupandthenIcutmyhand.Andthen…Amelia.
Ohshit.IwokeherupandshetookcareofmybleedingcutandthenItoldherhowprettyshewasandaskedtokissheragain.Thisisunbelievable.AlltheworkI’vebeendoingtokeepheratarm’slength,andafterafewtoomanybeers,Itrytopullherintomyarms.I’msuchanidiot.Isitcowardlytoclimboutthewindowandhideuntilsheleavestown?Evenmoreunfortunate,it’smydayofftoday.IhavesomeonewhorunstheshopformeonSundaysandMondays,buttoday,IneedmyemployeetogohomesoIcanhavemyhidingplaceback.
Also,isthat…Isitup,sniffingtheair,andyep,that’sdefinitelysmoke.I’malreadythrowingthecoversoffmybodyandlaunchingoutofbedwhenthefirealarmstartsblaring.IflyoutofmybedroomandintothekitchenwhereIfindAmeliainheroversizedpajamas,swearinglikeateenagerwhojustlearnedaboutcusswordsforthefirsttime.She’ssurroundedbyacloudofsmokeatthestoveandfanningitwithherhand.
“AH!Noah!Help!”She’sstillswattingatthesmokingpan.
Ipushbyherandpickupthepan.She’salreadyturnedofftheburner,andnothingisonfireyet,soIcarrythepanovertothesinkanddouseitwithwater.Ithissesandpopsloudlywhenthecoldwaterstreamsoverit.IleavethefaucetrunningwhileIopenthefrontdoorandafewwindowsforventilation.Ameliaisnowstandingunderthesmokedetector,swattingatitwithadishtowellikeitcheatedonherwithherbestfriend.She’shoppingtoreachitoverandoveragain.Hop,swat.Hop,swat.Hop,swat.Thesightistoomuch.BeforeIrealizeit,myhandsarebracedonmyhipsandIhavetoanglemyfacedowntokeepfromcrackingup.Itdoesn’twork.Ifeelthedesirebuildinginmystomachuntillaughterisrollingoutofmymouth.
Whenthesmokeclearsandthealarmstopsblaring,allthat’sleftisthesoundofmyvoice.Ameliagaspsandwalksovertome.Herbarefeetentermylineofsight.“Youarenotlaughingatmerightnow.”
“Iam.”
“Well…”shesays,soundingrighteouslyindignant.“Don’t!I’msoembarrassed!”
Iraisemygazeandlookrightintoherbigbeautifulblueeyes.They’reblinkingandnervous—eyebrowscrinkledtogether.Iwanttopullherintomyarmsandhugher,butIresistbecausethatkissrequestisstillwhisperingbetweenus.Ican’ttouchheragain.Iwon’t.“Whatwereyoutryingtodoinherebesidessetmyhouseonfire?”
Hershoulderssagadorably.“Iwastryingtomakeyourpancakes.”
“Withwhat?Gasoline?”
“Stopit.”Sheswatsmychestwiththebackofherknuckles.Atthesametime,webothrealizeshe’sjustmadecontactwithmybarechest.Hereyesdropandhervoicesoftens,makingmefeellikeshejustdousedmeinlighterfluidandstruckamatch.“Itwas…”Sheswallows.“Thebutterinthepan.Imusthaveleftitintheretoolong.”
Ifeelexposed.IwouldnothavecomeoutherewithoutmyshirtonifIdidn’tthinkmyhousewasabouttoburndowntotheground.ButhereIam,standinginthekitchenwithAmeliainmyjeansandnoshirt.Hereyesareeatingupeveryinchofmybareskin.Theylingerheavilyovermyleftribcagewheremyonlytattoolives.It’sapienestledinabouquetofflowers.Mostpeoplewouldthinkit’saridiculoustattootohave,butAmeliaseesitandhersmilesays,Iknewyouwereobsessedwithflowers.AndnowIfeeldoublyexposedbecausenotonlyissheseeingmyskin,she’sseeingmy…damn,there’snolesssappywaytoputit,she’sseeingmyheart.
IstepawayandturnoffthesinkfaucetsoIcangivemyselfamentalshake.Next,Isurveythemessonmycounter.Itlookslikeaflourbombactivatedinhere.“Sowasthisallanacttogetmetofeelsorryforyouandteachyoumypancakerecipe?”
Ameliaisnearmeinthekitchenagain,andIswearIcan’tgetawayfromhereventhoughI’mtryingmydamnedestto.“Firstofall,rude.Itriedreallyhardtomakethese,butIcouldn’trememberanyofyourmeasurements,andyoudon’thaveinternetsoIcouldn’tresearcharecipe.But!BeforeIaddedthesecondbitofbuttertothepan,Imadethiswholebatch!”HervoiceissoproudandfullofexcitementthatIhavetoclampdownonasmile.
“You’venevermadepancakesbefore?”
“Nope,”shesayshappily.
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Notevenbeforeyougotintomusic?”Iaskinaskepticaltone.
Ameliatapsherfingertoherlipsgivingthequestionasecondthought.“Ohwait,yes.”
“Soyouhave?”
Sherollshereyeslightly.“No,Noah!Ihaven’t.Askmeahundreddifferentways.Theanswerwillstillbeno.Mymomwasaterriblecook,soweusuallyjustatecerealorthrewabagelinthetoasterforbreakfast.Ionlyatepancakeswhenwe’dgooutonSaturdaymorningstoarestaurant.Andbeforeyouask,Ihavenoideaifmydadisagoodcookornotbecauseheabandoneduswhenmymomgotpregnant.So,wouldyouliketokeepaskingmequestionsthatremindmeofmyfracturedrelationshipwithmyparentsortrymypancakes?”
Hello,foot,meetmouth.Iamsuchanass.Butalso,Ican’thelpbutlovethewayshebitesbackatme.Everydaysheseemstobecomingoutofhershellmoreandmore,andIenjoyitthatmuchmore,too.It’sreallybecomingaproblem.
“Pointmetothepancakes.”
Ameliacomesupbesideme,armbrushingmyabdomenasshereachesinfrontofmetoliftasheetofaluminumfoiloffastackofpancakes.MystomachclenchesandIpressmyselfbackagainstthecountertoevadehertouch.It’slikethegameIusedtoplayasakid,theFloorIsLava,exceptthistimethegameiscalledtheWomanIsLava.Ican’ttouchherorI’llburn.
Amelia’shairisdownandlongagaintoday,lookingwavyandwildaroundher.She’sstillwearingmypajamaset,butthankfullythistimeshe’swearingthebaggybutton-upshirt,too.Forsomereason,Ilovethathereyesarealittlepuffyfromsleeping,andhercheeksarepink.I’venevermetaprettierwoman.
Herpancakesontheotherhand…
Isquintdownatthem.“Didyouaddcocoapowdertothese?”
“No.”Shepressesherlipstogetherwhilepokingthetoppancakewithafork.“Ithinktheymighthavegottenalittletoodone.”
“Justalittle,”Isaydryly,andthisearnsmealightelbowtotheribs.
Andbasedonthefactthattheyhavethetextureofawall,I’dsaysheusedtoomuchflour.
There’snothinginmethatwantstotryoneofthesepancakes,butshelookssoproudofherselfformakingsomethingfromscratchthatIcan’thelpbuttaketheforkfromherhand,moveapancakefromtheplate,andcutoffasliver.Cutismaybetoogenerousofaword.MorelikeIbreakoffachunkofthepancake.AmeliawatchesmecloselyasIraisethebitetomymouth.Thesecondithitsmytongue,mybodyrevoltsandbegsmetospititout.Buthereyesarelightingupandanexcitedsmileistuggingherraspberrylips,soIkeepchewingslowlyandtryingtothinkofanythingniceIcansayabouthernastycreation.
“So?Howarethey?”Sheclaspsherhandstogetherunderherchin.She’sakidonherbirthdaywaitingforherpresent.
Iswallowthebite.“Oh,they’reshit.”Yeah,Icouldn’tthinkofanythingnice.“Likereally,they’rebad.Whatthehelldidyouputinthese?”Isay,withachucklerunningthroughmyvoiceasItrytobounceawayfromthedishtowelshe’sattemptingtopopmewith.
“Woulditkillyoutobenice?”She’slaughing,too,andchasingaftermewiththatdamntowel.Theedgeofitlicksmeonthebackonceandit’sforsuregoingtoleaveamark.
Igrabapotandholditinfrontofmeasashield.“Youdidn’tletmefinish!Iwasgoingtosay…butthey’reyourshittypancakesthatyoumadeyourself,andforthat,youshouldbesoproud!”
“Ohyes,I’mjustbeamingwithpride.”Hervoiceisallsarcasm,asshegivesupherchaseandsinksdownontoabarstool.Sheputsherhandinherhairandtossesitoverherhead,makingitlookevenmorealluringsomehow.“Aretheyreallythatbad?”
“Likesandatthebeachthatadoghaspeedon.”
“Wow,”shesayswithanincredulouslook.“Fine.Iguessyou’lljusthavetoteachmethen.”SheperksuplikemaybeIwon’trememberIalreadytoldherno.Thingis,Icouldteachhertherecipe.It’snotactuallysomegreatsecretIwanttotaketomygravelikeIletherbelievetheotherday.ButIsortofliketheplayfulnessaddedtotheairbymekeepingitfromher.Ihavesomethingshewantsbutcan’thave.Seemsonlyfairsinceshe’squicklybecomingthesomeoneIwantbutalsocan’thave.
“Nope.Ialreadytoldyouit’sasecret.”Ipulldownamugandpouracupofthecoffeeshemade,hopingtoallthecoffeegodsthatitdoesn’ttasteanythinglikeherpancakes.
“I’llfigureitout.Howhardcanpancakesbetoperfect?”
Ieyehercharredstack.“Fortheaverageperson,orforyou?”
Shescruncheshernoseandthenlobsthekitchentowelatmyhead.Thetowellandselegantlyonmyshoulder.
“I’mwounded,”IsaydrylyasIliftthemugtomylipsandtakeahesitantsip.It’sgood.Reallygood,actually.“Huh.”Iraisethemuginsilentcheers.“Youmakeshitpancakesbutyourcoffeeisgreat.Sothat’ssomething.”
Hereyestwinklewithamusement.Ifshehadanythingelsenearher,Iknowitwouldgetchuckedatmyhead,too.Instead,shehastosettleforwords,andsomehowIknowI’mnotgoingtolikewhatevershe’sabouttosay.Ameliatiltsherhead,unconsciouslyshowingoffthegracefulcurveofherexposedneck.“Well,accordingtoyou,I’malsosoooopretty.”
Igroanandrollmyeyesawayfromher.“C’mon,don’tbringthatup.Iwasdrunk.”Iwashopingshewouldn’tmentionit—wouldjustletusbothgothroughthedaypretendingitneverhappened.Guessmyhopewasmisplaced.
“Youexpectmetonotbringupwhathappenedlastnight?”Shelaughslikethat’sthemostridiculousthingshe’severheard,andshethenglancesoverhershoulder.“Youbeggedtokissme.”
Iholdhertauntinggazeandhmmlightly.Anotherleisurelysip,andIleanbackagainstthecountertop.“Begged?Interesting.That’snotquitehowIrememberit.”
HersmilefaltersandIcouldswearsheholdsherbreath.Youwanttoplay,Amelia,let’splay.
“Well,youwerethedrunkonesoI’mnotsurehowreliableyourmemorycanbe.”
“Youcameoutofthebathroom.Wearingthosepj’s.WrappedyourarmsaroundmewhenIstumbled,guidedmetothecouchwhereIlaydownonmystomach.YouleftmetogofindbandagesandwhenyouaskedwheremyfirstaidkitwasItoldyouI’mnotamombutBand-Aidsareinthebathroom.”Itakeastepforward,setmycoffeemugonthekitchenislandwhereshe’ssitting.Ileanonmyforearms.“Andthen…whenyoucamebackfromthebathroom,andbeforeyoudoctoredupmyhand,Irememberprivatelythinkinghowmuchyousmelledexactlylikemycologne.”
IknowmyspeculationiscompletelyaccuratebecauseAmelia’seyesarewideassaucersandshe’salmostholdingherbreath.Hercheeksarestrawberries.Iwanttorunmythumbacrossthem.Instead,Ithrowmylastmemoryonthetablelikeagauntlet.“AndafterIaskedifIcouldkissyou,justonemoretime…”Iletthewordsdangle,waitingtoseeifshe’sbraveenoughtomakethelastleaporifI’llhavetopushher.
TheAmeliaIfirstmetwouldhavemadeanexcuserightnowandprobablyslippedoutoftheroomtoavoidanuncomfortablesituation.Orshewouldhavelaugheditoffandblamedthetenderforeheadkissonhowtiredshewasorsomething.ThenewAmeliaisdangerous.Shesitsforward—socloseourmouthscouldtouchifItippedforward—andshecontrolsthatembarrassedstrawberryblushintoaseductivesweepofcolorasdeliciouslookingasherfullraspberrylips.
Andthenshegrins.“…Ikissedyourforehead.”Shepausestostareatmymouth,amemorysparkinginhereyes.Shelookssharplyupatme.“BecauseIwantedtokissyourmouthbutknewyouweretoodrunk.”
Mouth.Eyes.Mouth.Eyes.Mouth.Eyes.That’sthepatternofmygaze.Theurgeofmybodyischanting,Doit!Kissher.Ialreadyknowitwouldbesogood.Andnowit’smyturntosquirm.Ilightlyclearmythroatandscratchthesideofmyneck,standingbackupandhearingalarmbellssoundinmyhead.Ishouldn’tbetemptingwhateverthisis.There’snofutureforus—andI’mnotintocasual.Nothinghaschanged.Istillhavetostayinthistown,andshestillhastogoeventually.Sojustknockitoff,Noah.
“I’msorryIaskedlastnight.Shouldn’thavebecauseI’mstillnotlookingforanythingromantic.”Lies.
Forafractionofasecond,Ameliareallydoeslookwounded.Hereyebrowstwitchintothebeginningsofafrown.Butshewipesitawayquicklyandrecovers.“Whosaidanythingaboutromance?Itwasjustaforeheadkiss,Noah.Plainandsimple.Innocentatbest.Andyouwouldhaveneveraskedmeifyouweresober—soit’sfine.”
Myinstinctistobatthatplacativeshitoutofthepark,butIcantellshe’ssayingitasamercytome,soIletitlandbetweenusandbecomethebarrieritwasintendedtobe.Iwishitdidn’tmakemelikehermore.Respecthermore
“Well,thankyouforthis.”Iholdupmypalmshowingherthebandage.“I’msorryyouhadtodealwithmelastnightandalltheglass,too.”
Shesmilessoftly.“It’snoproblem.Besides,romanceornot,it’snicetoknowthatyouthinkI’mprettyandsweet.”Sheblinksplayfully.“Likepowderedsugar.”
Andthat’smycuetoleave.Withanothergroan,Itakemymugwithmetowardthebathroom.Shefollows,likeapuppynippingatmyheels.“Isitreallytrue,Noah?DoestheGrumpyPieShopOwnerreallythinkI’msweetlikepowderedsugar?”
Itrytoshutthebathroomdoor,butshesticksherfootinthewaysoIcan’tcloseit.Isetthemugonthecounterandlookdownather.“Rightnowyou’rejustapaininmyass,”Isay,notrealizinguntilIglanceinthemirrorthatIsaiditwithanoverlyindulgentsmile.
Sheanglesherchinuptome.“ButyouthinkI’maprettypainintheass?”Shesaysitsofterthistime,stillplayfulbuthertoneconveyswhatshe’sreallyasking.ShewantstoknowifImeantwhatIsaid.IguessI’llbewalkingatightropefortheremainderofthetimeAmeliaisundermyroof.Ilikeher.Shelikesme.AndwehaveintensechemistrybetweenusthatIcan’tindulge.
Iholdhergazeandtakeadeepbreath.“Everyonethinksyou’repretty.Youknowthis.”
Shedoesn’tletmeoffthehook.“Butdoyou?”
Myeyesdropforafractionofasecondtohermouth,andIrememberalltoowellhowmuchIwantedthatkisslastnight,andstillfeelthedesiretoday.“IalwaysmeanwhatIsay.”Iteeteralittleonthetightrope.“Now,canweletitgoandactlikeadultsaboutallthis?”
Shelaughslightly.“That’swaytoomuchtoask.”Sheturnsaway,grabbingholdofthebathroomdoorandpullingitclosedbehindher.Butjustbeforesheshutsit,shepeeksherheadbackin,eyesfallingunashamedlyovermychestandtorsobeforelookinginmyeyesagain.“Butjustsoyouknow,Ithinkyou’repretty,too.”
Sheshutsthedoor,andIdon’twantto,butIsmileagain.Chapter19Amelia
NoahandIhitchhikedintotown.Hitchhiked!Helefthistruckneartheshoplastnight,soafterhefinishedhisshowerandcameoutofthebathroomsmellinglikeadivinebeingfromthedepthsofawoodlandforest,heaskedifI’dliketocheckthefirstitemoffmylist.Wewalkeddowntotheroadtohitcharideintotown.
Itwasn’tasthrillingasIhadhoped,though.DespiteusingthewordshitcharidehehadalreadycalledhisfriendJamesandaskedhimtopickusupattheendofthedriveway.SonowI’msandwichedbetweentwobeautifulmenandbobbingmywayintotown,fullyintendingontellingSusanthatIhitchhikedduringmytimeawayandallowinghertoconjureupfantasiesofmeinan18-wheelerbesideabigburlymanwithtattoosandalecheroussmile.
Jamesisnice,though.HehasasunnydispositionandwantstoknowhowI’menjoyingmytimeawayfromthebig-citylife.He’sfullofideasofplacesIshouldexploreandthingsIshoulddowhileI’mhere.Mostofhissentencesstartlikethis:“Oh,Noah!Youknowwhatsheshoulddo?…”And“Noah!Yououghttatakeherto…”I’mrealizingthatheseemstothinkNoahandIareapackagedeal,andforsomereason,I’mnotmadaboutit.
Noah,however,isbacktohisgruntyself—pressinghimselfagainstthetruckdoorsoourarmsdon’tbrush.YesterdayIwouldhavethoughtitwasbecausehefoundmeannoying.Now,aftertheKissRequest,there’sanewpieceofthispuzzlefallingintoplaceanditlookslikeNoahtellingmeI’mprettyandsweet.I’mpowderedsugar.Idon’tthinkhehatesmeafterall.Ithinkhelikesmealittleandthatscareshim.
Jamesdropsusoffatthefrontofthetownsquarewithalittlewave,sayinghe’sheadedoutoftowntotakeanorderofproducetoalocalmarket.Whenhistruckdrivesoff,it’sjustmeandNoah,standinghereliketwophonepoles.
Ibitethecornerofmymouthandlookforsomethingtosay,becauseI’verealizedIcan’twaitforNoahtospeakfirstorwe’llbecomesilentmonks.“So…whatstoreshouldwe—”
“Theflirtystuffbetweenushastostop,”heblurts.
Ilaughincredulously.“I’msorry,whatdidyousay?”
Ifsomeonewaswatchingusfromadistance,theywouldthinkNoahisstandingonatack.“Youandme.Flirting.Orwhateverthatwasthismorning…ithastostop.We’renot—we’refriends.That’sall.”
“Noah.”Iturntofullyfacehimandmakesomeseriouseyecontact.“Youhavetostopworrying.I’mnotlookingforarelationshipeither.Weareallowedtobetwoadultswhotalkedaboutkissingthatdon’tplanondoingitagain,andtoadmitthattheotherisattractivewithoutjumpingintoaromanticrelationship.”
Someofthetensioninhisfacemeltsaway.Henodsthoughtfully.“Okay.Ijustdidn’twanttoleadyouon.”
Isortofwanttoburstoutlaughing.Ilovethathetreatsmelikethis…asifI’mjustanormalwomanhemetwhenhercarbrokedowninhisfrontyard.Mostmenwouldn’thavethegutstosaysomethinglikethattome.Wouldn’thavethegutstoturnmedowninthefirstplace.There’snopressurewithNoah,andalthoughIcouldtotallyseemyselffallingforhimifIlivedinthistown,IknowthatmylifewillcomecallingshortlyandI’llhavetogo.Friendshipworksbetter.
“Thankyou.Andforthat,Ithinkyou’reassweetasmaplesyrup.”HegroansandrollshiseyeswhenherealizesI’mteasinghimagain,andhebeginswalkingawayfromme,onebootedfootatatime.Icontinue,“Notquitepowderedsugar,ofcourse,butdon’tworry!Ifyoutryhardenough,you’llachievemyhighestlevelofsweetness!”
Hestopswalkingabruptlyandthenfallsinstepbehindme,softlypokingmyback.Ifrownovermyshoulder.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Tryingtofindtheoffswitch.”NowIstopwalkingandhepassesrightbyme,aneasygrinplasteredonhismouthlikehedidn’tjustplayagain,continuingtoshatterallmypreconceivednotionsaboutGrumpyPieShopOwner.“Comeon,chatterbox.”Hesignalswithhisarmformetocatchup.“We’restartingatthediner,wherewedon’thavetoeatsand-pancakes.”
—
“WhatshouldIget?”IaskNoah,lookingoverthetopofthelaminated,andslightlysticky,dinermenu.
“Whateverthehellyouwant.”
Igetit.Heneedsmorecoffee.I’vebeenaroundhimenoughnowtoknowthatherequiresasteadystreamofthestufftomaintainaless-than-murderousattitude.Andhetakesitblack,nosugar,nocream.Justlikehispersonality.Noahisano-frillsguy.
“IthinkI’llgetthe—”I’minterruptedbymyphonebuzzingonthetable.Itmusthavejustgrabbedarandombarofservicebecauseitisbuzzingitsheartoutwithincomingtextmessages.Ishouldn’thavebroughtitwithme,butitfeltwrongleavingitbehindwhenI’msousedtohavingitonmeatalltimes.NowIregretit.Noahstaresatthepoorlittlethingwithliftedeyebrows.
“Whoa.Someonereallywantstogetaholdofyou.”
Andjustlikethat,thehappyfeelingsI’vehadfloatingaroundmealldayvanish.Realityalwaysfindsme.IpickupmyphoneandswipeitopeneventhoughIalreadyknowwhatI’llsee.
Susan:Pleasetellmeyouarestillmaintainingyournutritionalplanwhileyou’regone?Justbecauseyou’reawaydoesn’tmeanit’satruevacation.Yourstagecostumesarealreadyfinalized.
Susan:Pieisnotonthenutritionalplanbtw.
Susan:Andspeakingof,neitherarepieshopowners.Keepyourheadonstraightwhileyou’reaway.You’retoogoodforamanlikethat.
Susan:Surprise,surprise,yourmomemailedmethismorningfromyourMalibuhouseaskingwherethekeytoyourLandRoveris.Also,Iextendedyouroffertohaveherjoinyouforthefirstfewdatesofthetourbutshesaidshehastoomuchgoingon.
Isetdownmyphoneandlookup.Noahisstudyingme.Imusterupasmileandresumemymenu-reading.“Okay…whatwasIsaying?Ohyeah.IthinkI’mgoingtogetanorderoftheFrenchtoast,too.Isitgood?”
Whenhedoesn’tanswer,Iglanceupagain.Afrownisetchedbetweenhiseyes.Strongjawworking.Heshakeshisheadlightly.“Youdon’thavetodothat.”
“Dowhat?”
“Fakeit.”HegesturestowardwhereIjustputmyphone.“Doyouwanttotalkaboutit?Whateveritisyoujustread?”
Ugh.Herehegoesagain!Whyisittheonepersonwhocanonlybetemporaryinmylifeistheonewhowantstounderstandme?Bethereformewithoutmehavingtoaskforit?
“IthinkI’llrespondtothatquestionwiththesameansweryougavemebeforeyouleftlastnight.Nope.”Ioverlypronounceeachletter,revelinginmyabilitytosquashthevoicechantingpolite,polite,politeinmyhead.NotwithNoah.NeverwithNoah.
Hismouthtiltsinagrin.“Fairenough.”
Amomentlater,ayoungwaitresscomestothetable.“Hiy’all.WhatcanIgetforyou?”Otherthansmilingextrawideatme,shedoesn’ttreatmeanydifferentthanNoah.I’mnotsureI’llevergetusedtothefreedomthepeopleinthistowngiveme.Iwanttopackageitupandtakeitbacktotherealworldwithme.
“I’llhaveanorderofpancakesandFrenchtoast,”Isay,“andheneedsmorecoffeeASAP.GetsreallygrumpyifIdon’tkeepasteadysupplydrippingthroughhisveins.”
Noahscowlsatmebutthewaitresstiltsbackherheadfullofprettyredhairwithadelightedlaugh.“She’srightonthemoney!Gladyoufinallyfoundyourselfawomanwhoknowshowtohandleyou,Noah.”
Noahhurriestosay,“She’snotmywoman.”
Igiveherapolitesmile.“I’mmakingasigntocarryaroundtherestofthedaywiththoseexactwordsjustsohe’llquitgettinghispantiesinawadaboutit.”ThisearnsmeanotherfrownfromNoah.Buthere’sthething,thefrownislacedwithasmile.Idon’tknowhowhedoesit,butthemancansmileandfrownatthesametime.
“Well,I’lladmit,”saysthewaitress,turningtomewhiletakingherpencilandsettlingitbehindherear.“IwassurprisedwhenIheardtherumorthatyoutwowereanitemgivenhishistoryandgeneraldislikeforwomensincethen.”
Iraiseabrow.“Hishistory?”
“I’llhaveeggsandabiscuit,Jeanine,”Noahbarksacrossthetable.Jeaninepayshimnoattention.
“Girl,yes.HewasheadoverheelsforthatfancyNewYorkerforyears,youknow?”
Myeyeswiden.“No.Ihadnoidea.”IlookatNoah,tryingtopicturethisold-fashionedmanwhohatesWi-Fianddoesn’townacellphoneanddrivesaburntorangepickuptruckwithapants-suitedNewYorkelitistonhisarm.Anotherparadox.
“Yes!”Jeaninesayswithwide,excitedeyes.Gossipseemstobeherlifeblood.“Hadthemansobewitchedafterhersummerintowncleaningupherdeceaseduncle’shouseandsellingitthatwhenitwastimeforhertoleave,NoahupandmovedtoNewYorkwithher!ItwasarealHallmarkmovie.Butthenwhenhehadtocomebackforhisgrandmashedidn’tcomewithhimand—”
Noahliftshishandsfromthetable.“I’mrighthere,youknow?Canheareverythingyou’resaying.”
JeaninewhipsherheadtowardNoah.“Whyhaven’tyoutoldher?”
“Becauseit’snoneofherbusiness.Wepracticallyjustmet.”PoorNoah.He’sexasperated.
Suddenly,amanwhoisontheothersideoftheboothbehindmeleansaround,drapinghisarmoverthebacksohecanaddressmeandJeaninebetter.“Don’tfeelbad.Hedoesn’tliketodiscussitwithanyone.Thatwomanbrokehisheartandhe’snotbeenthesamesince.”
“OhgoodLord,”saysNoah,proppinghiselbowsonthetableandpressinghisfaceintohishands.
“Youknowwhat,Phil?Iagree.Idon’tthinkheusedtobethissurlyuntilhecamebackfromNewYork.”JeaninehelpsherselftotheseatbesidemesoIhavetoslideoverintheboothtomakeroom.“Now,darling,I’mrootingforyou.ButIthinkthefactthatyou’reafamoussingerisgoingtohinderthingsabit,becauseofthelong-distancehurdle.Don’tgiveup.Noah’sworthitandyouwon’tfindabettermanthanhim.”It’ssweetthewaythistownadoreshim.
“Yep,okay.I’mgoingtogopourthatcoffeesinceyou’reclearlynotgoingtodoyourjobtoday.”
“Sowecankeeptalkingaboutyou?”Jeanineaskshimwithpleadingeyes.
“Wouldn’tdarestopyou.”NoahslidesoutoftheboothandIwatchallsixfootthreeofhimunfoldfromthetable.Iwouldputastoptoallthis,but…Idon’twantto.It’ssortoffunwatchinghimsquirmwhilealsogettingtolearnallhisdeepdarksecrets.Plus,hejustgaveuspermission.There’snobackingoutnow.
“Oh,honey,willyoupourmeacupwhileyou’reatit!”thewaitresssaysoverhershoulderwhilestilllookingatPhil.
“Yep,”Noahgrumbles.“Creamandsugar?”
“Justatad.”
Noahgoesbehindthediner’scounterandstartspouringcoffees.Afewpeopleatthebarseemtoneedatop-off,too,sohedoesit.Istareathim,unabletotakemyeyesoffhishandsomefaceasJeanineandPhilkeepprattlingonbesideme.Hisforearmsflexwitheverytiltofthecoffeepot.Occasionallyhismouthslantsintoasingle-dimpledgrinatsomethingsomeonesaystohim.Ifeelmyhearttumbleoffaledgeitshouldn’thavebeenoninthefirstplace.
“IwishIcouldwringthatwoman’sneckfortreatinghimlikeshedid.Heavenhelpmeifsheeversetsfootinthistownagain,”saysJeanine.
“Butyou’renotgoingtodothattohim,areyou?”Philasksme.“You’regoingtotreatourNoahright?”
“Uh—”ButnowI’mlost.TheyseemtothinkNoahandIaremorethanweare.“Really.We’rejustfriends.Astepabovestrangers,really.”
TheybothmakepishposhgestureslikethefactthatImetNoahonlyafewdaysagoisjustsemantics.“IknowagoodcouplewhenIseeone,”saysJeanine,cinchingupherponytailtomakeitperkier.
“Markmywords,youtwohavesomethingbetweenyou.Justdon’tgocheatingonhimlikehisex-fiancéedidandthatalonewillmakeyoumilesbetterthanher.”
IblinkinNoah’sdirection,who’sjustfinishedservingupaplateofpancakestosomeoneatthebar.Hewasengaged?LivedinNewYork?Wascheatedon?There’ssomuchIdon’tknowabouthim,andIfeelthatlackofknowledgekeenlynow.Iwanttoknowhim.Everynookandcrannyofhim.IwanttostudyhimlikeI’mcrammingforanend-of-the-yearexam.Butthere’saveryrealchancehe’llneverletmeknowhim.
Wemakeeyecontactandhedoesn’tsmileatfirst,butthelongerhelooksatme,hislipsstarttoriseinthecornerslikehejustcan’thelphimself.Andallatonce,Ithinkmaybemychancesaren’thopelessafterall.Chapter20Noah
“SoIguessyou’regoingtowanttohearthewholesobstorynow?”IaskAmeliaafterweleavethedinerandarealoneagain.
Shelooksupatmewithasmirk.“Yousoundlikeyou’reresigningyourselftoarootcanal.”
“Aboutthesamepainlevel.”It’ssupposedtobeajoke,butitfallsalittleflat.Ormaybealittletooonthenose.BecausethinkingbacktoMerritthurtseverytime.Inhindsight,IseemyselfeagerlyfollowingthatwomanofftoNewYork,trulybelievingthatourlittlesummertimeflingwasreal,andIcringe.
AsJeaninepointedoutinthediner,Merrittcametotowntotakecareofheruncle’spropertyafterhedied.Itwasherfirsttimeintown,andbeingtheonlylawyerinherfamily,herparentsthoughtitwouldbebesttosendhertoselloffhispropertyandtieupalltheotherlooseendsthatcomealongwithafamilymemberdying.Well,thatandbecausehermomandunclehadabadfalling-outbeforeMerrittwasbornandneverspokeagain.IthoughtMerrittseemedprettylonelyintownwhilehandlingallthatbusinessonherown,soIofferedhercompany.Ispentmyafternoonshelpingherboxuphishouseandthenthatturnedintoherspendingnightsatmyplace.
Ispontaneouslyproposedonherlastdayintown,becauseitfeltromanticandexciting.Sheagreedforthosesamereasons,butonlyifI’dmovetoNewYorkwithher.MysistersandgrandmawereshockedthatIleftwithonlygivingthemaday’snotice.Now,Iwanttogobackintimeandpunchmyselfrightinthestomachforbeingsonaiveandthoughtless.
Wemadeitworkforthefirstfewmonths,butwhenthatphysicalchemistrystartedtowearoff(whichwasprobablybecauseMerrittwasgettingitwithherco-workerinstead),wehadnothing.Shewasallaboutwork,whichwasfine,exceptforthefactthatshewantedmetobeaswell.InNewYorkIusedmybusinessdegreeandgotajobinalow-levelpositionatabank,and,boy,didIdreamofclawingmyeyesouteachdayatthatboring,lifelessjob.
IwasneverenoughforMerrittandshebecameobsessedwithwipingallthe“country”frommypersonality.ShemadesureIworkedmyassoffsoIcouldclimbthecorporateladderandclaimapositionthatshecouldbeproudofwhensheintroducedmetoherfriends.SoIworkedacraptonupthere,wasincrediblylonely,hadverylittlejoy,andbecauseI’mloyaltoanabsolutefault,ittookmeawholeyeartoendit.Fine…loyalandprideful.Ididn’twanttodragmyselfbackhomeandexplaintoeveryonethatIhadmadeahugemistake.
Ican’tsayI’mnecessarilyhappyshecheatedonme,butitdidgivemethepushIneededtoendthings,orelseImighthavewastedalotmoretimebeingmiserablewithawomanwhowasallwrongforme.Andafteritofficiallycrumbled,IvowedIwouldneverforcearelationshipwithsomeonewhoselifedoesn’tautomaticallyfitwithminefromthestart.Becausethat’swhatMerrittandIboileddownto—twopeoplewhoneededdifferentthingsandcouldn’tfindanycommonground.
AmeliahesitatesaminuteandmustseesomethinghonestinmyexpressionthatIdon’tmeantobeshowing,becauseshesmilesandshakesherhead.“Thenno.Idon’twanttohearit.Soundslikearealbuzzkilltoourmorning.”Herblueeyesdartuptomineandthey’reglinting.Ishovemyhandsinmypocketsandlightlybumpmyshoulderagainsthers.Inquiet,introverted,hates-discussing-feelingslanguage,Ijustsaidthankyou.
Hershoulderbumpsmineback.
“Sowhatpartofthetowndoyouwanttoexplorefirst?”
Ameliapausesandlooksthoughtfullyaround.Withhereyesdistracted,I’mabletoreallytakeherinforthefirsttimetoday.She’swearingasimplecream-coloredsummerdress,withthinstraps.Ilikethewaythedresshugsherchestandtorso,butsortofflaresoutalittleatthewaist.Thebottomhalfofitswaysbackandforthwhenshewalks.Shelookssoprettyithurts.
“What’sthatplace?”shesays,squintingatthebuildingacrossthestreet.HerlipsareextrapinktodayandIwonderifshe’swearinglipstickortintedChapStick.IknowthedifferencebecauseIusedmysister’stintedChapStickoncethinkingitwastheregularkindandhadripe,redlipsfortherestofthenightbecausemysistersthoughtitwashilariousnottotellme.Idon’tthinkAmelia’swearinglipstick,thecolorlookstoonatural.Kissable.
Right.Enoughaboutherlips.Iknowexactlywheretotakeher.
Iturninthedirectionshe’spointing.“That’sthehairsalon.”
—
“Wait,”saysAmelia,hittingthebrakesonthesidewalk.“It’stooscary.Ican’tgointhere.”
“It’sjustabeautyshop.”
Amelia’seyesslidetothefrontwindowandshepeersinsidelikeawomaneyeingadiamondnecklaceintheshopdisplayofTiffany’s.Afewminutesago,shetoldmeshe’swantedtocutherhairforsolongbutcouldnevergetupthenervetodoit.She’scontemplatingdoingitnow,soIgostandbesideher,shouldertoshoulderaswestareintothesalonlikecreeps.
Heather,Tanya,andVirginiaareallinthereworkingtoloudmusicandlaughingwithclients.Thesceneischeery,ifnotalittleover-the-top.
IlookdownatAmelia.“I’mfailingtoseethethreathere.”
“Ican’tdoit,”shesaysinadaze.“Irealllyyyywantto,butIcan’t.”
“Whynot?”
“BecauseSusanwillbemad.Likereallymad.Myhairisathing.It’spartofwhatI’mknownfor.”
Withthisnewinsight,myeyestracethelongwavesofherhaircascadingdownherback.Itisbeautiful—thekindofhairthatmakesmewanttotanglemyfingersinit.PartofmeissadI’llnevergettodothat,butI’malsogettingrealsickofhearingSusan’sname,soIwillencourageAmeliatochopitofftoherearsrightnowifthat’swhat’sgoingtobringherfreedom.“Oh,sorry.Ididn’trealizeitwasSusan’shair.Thatmakessensethen.”I’mbeingasmart-assbutshelikesit.
Shelaughswithsadamusementandthenlooksupatme—shoulderssagginginprematuredefeat.“Ican’t,Noah.Ijustcan’t.Iknowit’ssillybutit’showthingsworkforsomeoneinmyposition.Idon’townmyimageanymore.”
“Okay.”Ishrug.“ButI’mjustsaying,ifyouwanttoberebelliousandbreaktheLawofSusan,I’llwhipthetruckuptothecurbandyoucanslideinDukesofHazzardstylewhenyourhaircutisfinished,andwe’llmakesureSusancannevercatchus.”
Shegrins.“Us?”
“Well,yeah.I’veseenyoudrivemytruck.Snailswerepassingyou—flippingyouthebirdandeverything.Itwasembarrassing.”Amelialaughsandshakesherhead,turninghereyesbacktothewindow.AndIrealizeinthismoment,I’ddojustaboutanythingtomakeherlaugh.What’shappeningtome?
Lookingthroughthewindow,Ameliatakesonefullbreathandthennodsonce—firmly.Shelooksupatmeagain,andthistime,she’sdetermined.There’sfireinthosecrystal-blueeyes.Determinationlookssodamnsexyonher.It’smakingthatfiercedesiretokissherboilupinsidemeagain.
“Okay,I’mdoingit.I’mgoinginthereandI’mgettingmyhaircut.Bettergetthetruckready,BoDuke,”shesays,bouncingfromfoottofootlikeaprizefighterabouttostepintothering.Ifshehadamouthguard,she’dslipitoverherteeth.Ineedtotapeherknuckles.“I’mawomanwhoeatspancakesandgetsherhaircutwhenshewantsto.I’mmyowndamnboss,andI’mtakingmylifeback!”Sheheadstowardthedoor,putsherhandonthedoorknob,andthenquicklyletsgoandpacesbacktome.Nope,shepassesrightbyme.She’szoomingtowardthetruck,andthenabruptlyfreezesagain.Slowly,sheturnsbackaroundandtreksherwaytothedooronceagain.Werepeatthatwholeprocesstwomoretimes.
Soonherfourthtriptothedoor,andwhenIcantellshe’sabouttolosesteamagain,IgoupbehindAmelia,openthedoor,andpushmyhandagainstherlowerback,nudgingheroverthethreshold.“It’sbeenentertainingashelltowatch,butI’mstartingtogetdizzyfromallthebackandforth.”
Shelooksatmeoverhershoulderwithathankfulsmile.“Iwasgoingtogointhattimeanyway.”
“Sureyouwere.”
“Areyougoingstaywithme?”
I’dbelyingifIsaidIdidn’twantto.Hell,I’dholdherhandinthereifsheaskedmeto.ButIknowIcan’tletmyselfdothat.IfI’mgoingtokeepmyselffromfallingforher,I’vegottokeepsomeboundaries.Getsomespaceandclearmyhead.
IhitchmythumbovermyshoulderasIstepbackward.“I’msupposedtomeetsomeoneforlunch.I’llbebackinalittlebit.”
IhurryoutbeforeTanya’sheavilyeye-shadowedeyescansweeptothefrontdeskandcatchsightofmeandAmelia.She’dsinkherteethinmeandthenI’dendupwithahaircutIneveraskedfor.Justbeforethedoorclosesbehindme,Ihear,“Darlin’,yes!I’vebeenhopingyou’dstopinheresinceIheardyoupoppedintotown.Sitdownandmakeyourselfcomfy.WannaCoke?Iknowyou’reprobablyusedtowinebutI’dhavetodrivehomeandgrabtheboxfrommyfridgeandthatmighttakeabouttwentyminutes.”
Ijusthopeshedoesn’tcomeoutwithaperm.Chapter21Amelia
I’mfacedawayfromthemirror,likethewayhairstylistsalwaysdo(whichI’mconvincedissoiftheymessup,theycanfixitbeforeyounotice),andhaven’tbeengivenapeekatmyhairthisentiretime.Heatheristhetwenty-one-year-olddaughterofTanya,andtheonewhohasbeenworkingonmyhair.It’sbeen—asTanyawouldsay—ahootlisteningtotheseladiesvolleyconversationsbackandforth.Idon’tthinkI’devennoticeormindifsheaccidentallyshavedmyhead.Worthittohearthemspillthetowntea.IjustwishIknewallthepeoplethey’vebeensouthern-politelyslaughtering.I’minvestednoless.
“Now,giveusthescoopaboutyouandNoah,”Heatherasksmeatouchtooloud.Evenoverthesoundofthehairdryer,everyoneseemstohaveheard.Allheadsswivelinmydirection.It’smyturntospillthetea,Iguess.
TanyaandVirginia(theothertwostylists)areeachworkingonelderlyclients,rollingpinkpermrods.Virginiahasbrightyellow-blondhairthatisteaseduptotheceiling.She’ssmackinghergumwhileaimingamischievoussmileatme.“Itriedtodatehim,yaknow?Hell,Ididn’tevenneedtodatehim!Iofferedtoclimbrightintothatman’sbed.”
Thankfullytheycan’tseemyhandsclenchingintojealouslittlefistsundermycape.Itrytolaughlightlybutthere’saquaverinmyvoice.
Virginiawinksatme.“Don’tworry,baby.He’stoomuchofagentleman.Turnedmedownandsentmehomewithanapplepie.”Sherollshereyesuptoheavenlikeshe’srelivingthetasteofit—ormaybetryingtoseeifshecanspotthetopofherhair.She’llneverfindit.“Andifthatman’shandscanmakeapiethatgood,imaginehowdeliciousthesexwouldbe.”
“Virginia!”Tanyascolds.IfIhadtoguess,I’dsayTanyaisaboutfiftyyearsoldwithchestnutbrownhair,heavyeyeliner,bighoopearrings,andsix-inch-tallhighheelsthatshewalksinwiththesameeaseasiftheywereslippers.Jealous.“Don’tbetalkinglikethataroundHeather.”
VirginiathrowsherheadbacklaughingandIcanseeherguminthesideofhermouth.“Ohcomeon,Tanya.Thegirl’sgettingmarriedsoon.Surelyshe’sallowedtotalkaboutsexnow?”
HeathertakesthismomenttoleandownandwhisperquietlyasVirginiaandTanyaargueaboutappropriatesalonconversation.“Mama,Godblessher,stillthinksI’mavirgin.”Shelooksatmewithalaughandwideeyes.“ShesomehowgotitinherheadthatCharlieandIarewaitinguntilourhoneymoontosleeptogethereventhoughthatalreadyhappenedthedayIgotmylicensebackinhighschool.”
“Iheardthat,younglady!”saysTanyawithaspeakingglanceatherdaughterwhilepointingapinkrodinherdirection.
Heatherrollshereyesandcontinuestuggingaroundbrushthroughmyhair.“Youheardnothing!”Shelowershervoicejustformeagain.“SomethingI’velearnedaboutsouthernmamas:Theypretendtheyknoweverythingevenwhentheydon’tjusttogetyoutoconfess.Neverconfess.It’salwaysabluffontheirend.”
Ilaughandadjustinmyseatsomybuttwillregainsomefeeling.“Goodtoknow.”
“Whataboutyou?”Heatherasks,peekingovermyshoulder.“IsyourmamaaNosyNelly,too?”
Asharp—nearlyoffensive—laughjumpsfrommythroatbeforeIcanstopit.“Allmymomcaresaboutismycareerinahow-can-it-benefit-hersortofway.AndI’veneverknownmydad.”
Ican’tbelieveIsaidallthattoastranger.Whatistheairmadeofinthistown?Truthserum?IimaginetheseschemingsouthernmamasallhuddledaroundanairventeachmorningwithaviallabeledLiquidTruthsothey’llneverbeleftoutoftheloop.
OtherthanblurtingittoNoahwhenIwasloopyonasleepingpill,I’vekeptthatsecretaboutmyparentslockedinsidemeforyears.Eventhroughcountlessinterviewswhereeveryonewantstoknowaboutmyperfectlifeandperfectfamily,Ijustsmileandnodand,eventhoughourrelationshipisnothingbutarottingapplecorelately,IsayhowthankfulIamformymom.
Heathercutsoffthehairdryerandstaresdownatmewithherbrightredlipsparted.Herperfectlyshapedeyebrowsarepulledsotightlytogetherthey’remakingaunibrowandI’mafraidshe’sgoingtoburstoutintears.Andthensuddenly,herarmsarearoundmyneckandshe’shuggingme.HUGGINGME.Idon’thateit.
“Oh,”Isay,slightlystartled,butdefinitelynotturningmynoseupatit,andIawkwardlypatherback.“Ahug.Wow.Thankyou.”
Shepullsaway.“ThatisthesaddestthingI’veeverheard.Youshoulddefinitelycometomywedding.”
Iblink,tryingtofigureouthowthosetwopointsconnectwhenthedoortothesalonopens.Iseewhoitisandmystomachflips.Noah.Whydoesthesightofhimdothistome?Someonetellmewhytheairshiftsandmybreathfeelsheavyinmylungs?AstrangeelectricitypulsesthroughmyfingertipsandI’mafraidtheonlywayitwillresolveisiftheyrunoverhisskin.
“Well,ifitisn’tNoahWalkerintheflesh,”Heathersays,alertingthewholesalontohispresence.“WillyoubringAmeliaasyourdatetomywedding?”
Noahstandsinthedoorway,unmoving.Hehasn’tlookedatmeyet.Iinspecthimfromheadtotoe—sothoroughlyIcoulddescribehimtoasketchartistandcomeawaywithaperfectlikeness.Iwoulddescribethescruffonhisjawfirst.It’simportanttogetitright—becauseit’snotlongandbeardy—butit’snottrimmedoredgedtoslicingangleseither.It’sjustsortofanaturaldustingthatwouldn’tburnyouifhekissedyourskin,butmightticklealittle.Next,comeshishair.Oh—thatsandy-blondhair.It’stousledlightlywithstylingcream.Amattepomade—flexfiber.IknowbecauseweshareabathroomandI’madirtylittlesnoop.
AndIalsoknowthatunderthatwhiteT-shirtclingingtohisbroadshouldersisatattoo.Themostadorable,perfectlyfittingtattooI’veeverseenonamaninmylife.Mymindjumpsbacktothismorning,seeinghimrunintothekitchenshirtless.It’stheimageofthatman’stautbodythatwillplayonaloopthroughmyminduntilthedayIdie.Golden-tannedskin.Lightfrecklesacrosshisimpressiveshoulders.Cutbicepsandabsthattracktheirwaydowntohistaperedwaist.
Heisinaword:gorgeous.
Ismileasaprimalsatisfaction,knowingthatI’veseenNoahinastatethatVirginiaonlywishesshecould,pumpsmeup.Ohcrap.AmIpathetic?IthinkIam,sinceI’mdevelopingveryrealfeelingsforamanwhohasmadeitabundantlyclearthatIshouldundernocircumstancesdevelopfeelingsforhim.
Noah’seyesfinallyslideovertomeandIseehimholdhisbreath.Isthatgoodorbad?HisexpressionissointensethatnowIwishIhadseenmyhairbeforehedid.MaybeIhavejaggededges.Orthere’sabiggapmissingsomewhere.Ohwell,evenifhedoesn’tlikeit,itdoesn’tmatter.Thishaircutwasforme,andI’mgladIdidit.
ButIcan’ttakehimstaringatmeanylonger.Iblinkandlookdown.
“Heather,”NoahstartsandIhatethatIlovethesoundofhisvoicesomuch.IneedtostartmakingalistofthingsIdon’tlikeaboutNoahjusttokeepmyselffromtrulyfallingintothefeelingspit.“Don’tmakethewomancometoyourwedding.She’sacelebrityforcryingoutloud.Peopledon’tevenwanttogotoweddingsforpeopletheyknow,letalonestrangers.Nooffense.”
“Hey!”Isay,raisingmyeyesandglaringatNoah.“Howaboutyoulettheherinquestiondecideforherselfwhatshelikesanddoesn’tlike,thankyouverymuch,Mr.Grump.”ThecornerofNoah’smouthtwitches.Iknowwhy,too.He’smentallyaddingyetanothernicknametohisever-growinglist.“Iwouldlovetocometoyourwedding,Heather.Thankyouverymuchfortheinvitation.”ItossNoahasaucylook.“Iwillbethere,evenifNoahalreadyhasadate.Whenisit?”
“Amonthfromtoday.”
IresistlookinginNoah’sdirection.Hisfacewillbesmug.“Oh…Actually,Iwillnotbethere.”Igiveherasheepishsmile.“I’llbeontour.Sorry.”
“Should’velistenedtome.”
“Ohhush,you,”Isayandthewholesalonlaughs.ItearnsmeagenuinesmilefromNoah’sscruffy,moodymouth.
Butthen,justbehindNoah’sshoulder,someonecatchesmyeye.It’saman,andthewayhe’sdressedimmediatelyhasmeonedge—allinblackwithalong-lenscameraslungacrosshisback.He’sapaparazzo,there’snodoubt.
“Shit,”Isayinafranticwhisper,rippingthecapeoffmyneckandlookingaroundforsomewheretohide.“Theyfoundme!”
“Whofoundyou?”Noahasks,soundingsternandprotective.Thatvoicechasesashiverthroughmywholebody.
“Paparazzi.”Igesturewithmyhandoutthefrontwindowtowardthemanwhohashisbacktous,assessingthetownsquare.IfhefindsmeandconfirmsthatI’mhere,it’salloverforme.Thiswholeadventurewillgopoof.
Unfortunately,Idon’tevenhavetothinktwicetoknowwhosenthim.MymomistheonlypersonwhoknowswhereIamand,unfortunately,hasbeenknowntosellstoriestotabloidsinthepast.IshouldhaveknownbetterthantotellherwhereIwas.Ican’twaittofindoutwhatshe’llspendhermoneyon.Designerbag?Shoes?Ofcourse,she’lldenyituntilthedayshediesbecauseshe’sterrifiedI’llcutheroffifIlearnthetruth,butSusanalwaysfindsoutthroughanonymousmagazinesourcesthatitwasmymomwhotippedthemoff.I’veneverhadthegutstocallmymomoutonit,though.Becausethesadthingis,Iliketheattentionfromherevenifit’sfake.It’snicetopretendshe’sgenuinelyinterestedwhensheasksaboutmylife.Thatshedoesn’thaveulteriormotiveswhenshetalkstomeorspendstimeatmyhouse.Butit’spasttimetostartreevaluatingourrelationship.Ican’tkeepgoingthroughthis.
Noahisatmysideinaninstant,hislonglegseatingupthesalonfloorwithdeterminedstrides.
“Honey,don’tyouworry,”saysHeather,pushingmefromthechair.“We’llhideya.”
“Thankyou!I’llcomebyandpaylater.Ipromise.”
“Don’tyouworryaminuteaboutthat.”Tanyafranticallypointstowardthebackofthesalon.“Takeheroutthealleyway,Noah.”
Butthere’snotime.Weonlymakeittothefarendofthesalonwhenthedoorchimes.Noahwhirlsaroundinfrontofme,somybodyispressedagainsthis.Weareonerightnowandmyheartcan’ttakeit.Thefeelofhim.Thesmellofhim.Thewarmthofhim.Oof,it’sallsogood.Andthenhehastogoandmakeitworsebyreachingbehindhimandtakingmyhipsinhishands,adjustingmeaninchtotheleftsothatI’mmoresquarelylinedupwithhim.“Holdstill,”hesaysasifIwouldwanttogoanywherebuthererightnow.
Goodluckeverpeelingmeoffyou,buddy.Iliveherenow.
“Afternoon,sir!”saysTanyainachippertone.“Youhereforanappointment?”
Icanhearmyheartbeatinginmyears.NoahandIareinthefarcornerofthesalon,partiallyhiddenbythenailtechtablesandhoodeddryers,butstill,Ican’timaginethislittlebodyguardtrickisgoingtowork.
“Uh…no.I’mactuallylookingforsomeone.”
VirginialaughsandIheartheclickofherhighheelsmovingacrossthefloor.“Likeasweetheart?I’lldateyou,honey.”
“Flattered,butnothanks.IworkforOKmagazineandI’vereceivedatipthatRaeRosemightbestayinginyourtown.Iwaswonderingifanyofyouhaveseenher?I’mwillingtocompensateforyourhelp.”
Iswallow,alltooreadyforoneofthesewomentopointanacrylicfingernailinmydirection.IrestmyforeheadonNoah’sback,needingsupport.It’snotuntilmyfaceisrestingagainsthissturdybackthatIrealizehemightnotlikemeleaningonhimlikethis.I’mwrong.Suddenly,IfeelNoah’sfingersdiscreetlybrushagainstmine.Hewrapshishandaroundmyfingersandsqueezes.Ifeelthattouchlikehe’sbrushinghisfingersacrossmyverysoul.
“RaeRose?”Heatherexclaimsloudly.Ihearherrushingacrossthefloortowardtheman.“Areyoukiddingme?She’shere?Inthistown?”Hervoiceissohighit’sgoingtocrackawindow.“Mama,canyoubelieveit?”
“Iknow,baby.That’swhathesaysbutIdon’tbelieveit.Ifshewerehere,we’dknowaboutit.Thistownisonlyasbigasawhisper.”
Ismile,andreliefdrenchesme.Theyreallyaregoingtoprotectme.Thesewomenwhoowemenothingarehidingme.Noahsqueezesagainasifhecanreadmythoughts.
“So…youhaven’tseenherthen?”themanasksagain.Hesoundsskeptical.Ormaybehe’sjusttryingtofindthetopofVirginia’shair,too.
“Heavensno!Oh,butlook!Isthatheracrossthestreet?”
“Where?”heasksfranticallyrightasNoahspinstowardmeandstartstuggingmebythehandtofollowhimtothebackdoor.Ilookovermyshoulderandthewholesalonisgatheredbythewindow,makingawallbetweenmeandthepaparazzo.ImakeeyecontactwithHeather,mouththankyou,andshewinksbeforeturningbacktotheman.Sheshovesherfingeroverhisshoulderandpoints.“Overthere!Seethatwoman?”
“Ma’am.That’sanelderlywomanwalkingwithacane.”
“Oh…ha!IguessIdoneedglassesafterall.”
Andthat’sthelastIhearbeforeNoahandIescapeintothealley.Hisfingersarestillintertwinedwithmine,andI’mhavingtotakethreestepstohisone.Wequietlyzigzagarounddumpstersandtrashcanstowardtheparkinglot.Whenwerunoutofthealleyway,Noahgesturesformetowaitashewalksoutintotheparkinglotandsurveysthearea.Somethingabouthisfacerightnowlookslethal.Likehe’sJasonBourneandnavigatessituationslikethisontheregular.Whenhemakesittohistruck,hisgreeneyeslockwithmineandhegivesmeasubtlenodtellingmethecoastisclear.Istaylow,runninghunchedoversotherowofcarsandtrucksprotectsme,untilI’matNoah’struck.Webothjumpinatthesametimeandwhenourdoorsshut,Iletoutabreathandsinkdownagainstthebenchseat.Hedoesthesame.
It’squietinhereandsafe.JustlikeNoah.
“Thanksforgettingmeoutofthere,”Isay,rotatingmyheadtowardhim.
He’sstaringatme.Notsmiling.Notfrowning.
Noahdoesn’trespond,butheliftshishandtogentlybrushhisfingersacrosstheedgeofmynewfringebangs.Ihadforgottenaboutmyhaircut.Istillhaven’tevenseenit,butI’mreallyhopingitlookslikethepictureofZoeyDeschanelIshowedtoHeatherasinspiration,andnotlikeoneofthephotosthatmagazinearticlesusetoconvincereaderstonevercuttheirownbangs.
“Ichickenedoutonafullhaircut,”Isay,feelingalittleself-conscious.“ButI’vewantedbangsforalongtimeandSusanalwaystalkedmeoutofthemsayingtheywouldn’tlookrightwithmyfaceshape.”Iwanttoclosemyeyesagainstthefeelofhiscallousedfingerstouchingmyskin.MyvoiceshakesasIcontinuetobabble.“Ireallyhopeshewaswrong.ButIguessit’stoolatenow.They’llgrowback,though.Andiftheylookbad,Icanpinthemback.”
Hishandfallsaway,andIlookupintohisevergreeneyes.Hisjawflexesandheturnsforward,grippinghissteeringwheelwithonehandandturningthekeywiththeother.“Dammit,”hewhispersandthenlooksatmeonemoretime.“Youlookverypretty.”
Ifeelasmileinmysoulbeforeitreachesmylips.“Yousaythatlikeit’sabadthing.”
“Itisforme.”
Andthat’sallhesaysbeforebackingupanddrivingusbothhomeinstunnedsilence.Chapter22Noah
I’mputtingmyselfonadiet.It’sgoingtobetough,butI’mcuttingoutallAmelias.Todaygotoutofhand.IthinkItouchedthatwomanatleastamilliondifferenttimes,andeachtimeItoldmyselftowalkawayandgodosomethingdifferent,Iendedupclosertohersomehow.Weevenmadedinnertogethertonight.DINNER.Well,IguessImadedinnerandAmeliahelpedbysprinklingsaltandpepperintothesoupwhenIaskedherto.Wehadchickensoup.Likealittleoldcouplewho’sbeenmarriedforthirtyyears,wesatonthecouchsidebysideandwatchedJeopardy!becausethatwasallthatwasonmybasicchannelsatthetime,slurpingoursoupintandem.
Ameliaisaninteractiveviewer.SheyelledheranswersattheTV,andItriednottostareatherthewholeevening.SoIguessyoucouldsaywewerebothbusytonight.Andthenwhenherarmbrushedminewhiledroppingouremptybowlsintothesink,Ialmostrolledmyeyesathowmybodyreacted.Likeanelectricshocktookholdofme.Anarmbrushshouldneverdothatsortofthingtome.
IrealizedtonightthatI’minrealdangerhereofdevelopingfeelingsforher.That’saproblem,becauseadmittedly,I’mthatloyalguywhodevelopsfeelingsandthenfallswaytoohardwaytoofast.Idon’tknowhowtokeepthingscasual.Ihatecasual.It’spointlesstome.LikecitygirlswearingCarharttbeanies.
Soyeah,I’mkeepingmyselfcoopedupinmybedroomfortherestofthenightwhereIcan’tdoanymoredamagetomyself.I’minbedwithabookinmylap.Except,Ireadthesameparagraphfourtimes.I’mdistractedbymyownaddictiontoAmelia.EverytimeIhearherbarefeetpaddingdownthehallway,Itwitch.Icannotletmyselftouchthatdoorknob.Youcanlastonefreakingnightwithoutseeingher,Noah.Yousurvivedeverynightwithoutherbeforeyoumether.
ButIhearherwalkingagainsoIlowermybook.MyheartratepicksupwhenInoticehershadowunderthecrackinmydoor.Also,InoticethatIforgottofullyclosethedamnthing.It’srestingagainstthedoorjambsoshecan’tseeinside,butstill.Onelittlepressofherfingertothedooranditwouldgliderightopen.
She’sstandingthereandIknowshe’scontemplatingopeningit.Idon’tthinkIwantherto.I’vekeptmyroompurposelyclosedofffromherbecauseIdidn’twanthergettingtoknowmeatall.Thisroomfeelstoopersonal.Toomuchofmeinhere.IlikecontrollingthepartofmethatAmeliagetstoknow,andifshecameinhere,itwouldbeaslipperyslopetotellinghereverything.
HershadowdisappearsandIbreatheagain.Shewouldn’tjustbargeinhere.Iraisemybookagainandtellmyselftofocusonreading.Chapter23Amelia
Don’tgointhere,youloon!Ugh.I’mactingridiculous.Noahwenttohisroomtogetsomespacefromme,Iknowit.SowhyintheworldwouldIgoinsearchofhim?Except,hisdoorisnotlatched.Andthatdoormightaswellhavedevelopedcartooneyesandamouthbecauseit’ssmirkingatme.Jigglingitseyebrowsupanddown.Hitchingitsheadalittletryingtotemptmeinside.Seducer.
IwalkawayfromthedoorandinanattempttoclearmyheadofNoahandhowmuchIwanttobehangingoutwithhimrightnow,IslipintothekitchentocallSusan.Irealllyyydon’twantto,butIcan’tcompletelystepawayfrommyresponsibilities.TheleastIcandoischeckinwithherfromtimetotimetoletherknowIhaven’tbeenkidnapped.Then,maybeherrelentlessemailswillletupalittle,too.
IdialSusan’snumberandwaitforhertoanswer.It’sbeenringingsolongthatIthinkI’mgoingtogetluckyandbesenttohervoicemail,whereIcanatleasttellherItriedtoreachher.Exceptthelineconnects.
“Havingfunplayinghouse?”ishowshegreetsme.Myheartdrops.Iknewshewouldn’tbegushingwithexcitement,butIdidn’tquiteexpectthoseharshwordsrightaway,either.
“Uh…whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Theguyyougushedaboutlasttimewetalked,”shesaysinaclippedtone.“Iassumehe’sthereasonyou’restillhidingwhereveryouare.Pleaseatleasttellmethatyou,aworld-famousstar,arenotcontemplatinghavingarelationshipwithanaveragepieshopownerwhowillneverbegoodenoughforyou?”
“Goodness,Susan.That’sharsh,don’tyouthink?He’sagreatguy.”
“Ohmygosh,youare.You’reconsideringit.”Shescoffs.“Ihonestlycan’tbelieveyou’restillwastingyourtimethere.Thiswholethingmakesmeworriedaboutyourmentalstate.”
“HA!”Ibarkoutanunamusedlaugh.“Nowyou’reworriedaboutmymentalstate?I’mtryingtotellyou,Susan,thatIfeelbetterthanIhaveinyears.Ineededabreak.”I’mdoneapologizingforneedingavacation.
“Iwouldhavescheduledyouaspaday,youknow?Anyway,I’mjustgoingintoameeting.Sinceyou’reonthephone,I’mgoingtohandyoutoClairesoshecangoovertheschedulingIneedanswersfor.Whenyou’rereadytobeaprofessionalagain,callmeandI’llsendyouacar.”
Myjawisonthefloor,almostunabletobelieveshewouldtalktomelikethis.ButthenIguessshe’sneverhadtotalktomelikethisbecauseI’vealwaysnodded,smiled,andagreedtoeverythingshe’severaskedofme.Polite,polite,polite.
“Hi,”ClairesaystentativelyafterSusanhandsherthephone.
“Hey,Claire.”
“So,Susanwantedmetotalktoyouabouttheopeningweekofthetourand—”ClairepausesandIhearadoorshut.Shethenletsoutafullbreath.“Okay,she’sgone.Listen,IjusthavetotellyouafewthingsbecauseIcan’tkeepittomyselfanylonger.First,I’mnotsurehowmanymoredaysI’llbeworkingforSusan.She’sanightmare.Somuchofanightmare,IseeatherapistweeklywhereIdonothingbuttalkaboutSusan.”Shepauses,butnotlongenoughformetointerject.
“Thethingis,she’sterribleandthere’salotgoingonbehindyourbackthatIjustfoundoutabout.Idon’thavetimetofillyouinnow,butIwillwhenyoucomebacktotown.Which,Ihopeyoudon’tdoquickly,becauseI’msohappyyoufinallytookavacation.Icouldseeyouneededit,butI’vebeentoocowardlytosayanythinguntilnow.”AnotherbriefsilencethatIdon’tfillbecauseI’mtoostunnedtospeak.
“Listen,Idon’twantyoutohavetoworryaboutwork.SoI’mgoingtotellSusanyourcalldroppedandIcouldn’tgetaholdofyouagain.”Whoisthisperson?I’mhavingtroublereconcilingherwiththequietwomanwhousuallystandsinSusan’sshadow.Iwanttojumpthroughthephoneandhugher.
“Claire,”IsayquicklybecauseIcanfeelthatshe’sgettingreadytoendthecall.“Thankyou.Just…thankyou.Dowhatyouneedtodototakecareofyourself,butI’llbesadtoloseyoufromtheteam.Let’stalkwhenIgetback.”
“Surething,”shesaysandIcanhearthesmileinhervoice.“Bye,Amelia.”
WhenClairehangsup,myheadisspinning.IneededsomethingtotakemymindoffNoahand,boy,didthatdothetrick.Ihavesomuchtoconsidernow.Somuchtodecide.AndwhatisgoingonbehindmybackthatIdon’tknowabout?
Imarchmywaydownthehallway,intendingtodisappearintomyroomandcontemplateallmyoptionsforthefuture.Foronce,itdoesn’tfeelsetinstone.IfeellikeIcanmakesomechanges.LikeIshouldmakesomechanges.ExceptInevermakeittomyroom,becausewhilewalkingdownthehallway,Itriponthebottomhemofthesetoo-longpjbottomsandflailrightintoNoah’sdoorwheremybodythrowsitopenwiththeforceofa60mphwind.Ifallflatonmybelly,sprawledoutoverhisfloorlikeastarfish.
Igaspandsitup,whereIfindNoah,wideeyedandgapingatmefromhisseatedpositiononhisbed.Heblinks.Iblink.Andthenwebothtalkatthesametime
Me:I’msorryIfellintoyourroom,itwasanaccident!
Him:Holyshitareyouokay?Thatwasahardfall!
Webothmakenoattemptstomove.
Heletsmetalkfirstthistime.“I’mfine.Myegoisalittlebruised,butI’m—”MyeyesfinallysnagonNoah’schestandhe’s…he’swearingtheexactsamepjsetastheoneI’mwearing,butinthecolorgray.MysmilebloomswideandwickedasIpopuptomyfeetwithrenewedvigor.Hegivesmeawarninglookafternoticingthesparkleinmyeyes.
Ipointanyway.“Youhavemoreofthesepjsets!Andyouwearthem!”
Hewetshislipsandrollshiseyes,snappingshutthebookhewasreading—ohmygoshNoahisareader—andsetsitaside.“Okay,getitalloutofyoursystem.”
“Theseweren’tjustagaggift.Youownthembecauseyoulovethem.Noah,theClassicMan,isevenmoreclassicthanIeverknew.Lookatyouwearingcollarsonyourpj’s.Ohmygosh,youhavethemallthewaybuttonedup!”Andstilllooksfineaseverinthem.It’sunfair.
Heshouldlookridiculousinabuttoned-upmatchingsetofpa-ja-mas,ashewouldcallthem.Butno.Helookssexyashell.Comfyincotton.Likeahandsomebusinessmaninthe1950sjustbeforeheputsonhissuit,andfedora,andgoestohisfancyjobonWallStreettodobusinessystuff.Andthewayhisbroadchestandshouldersfilloutthatshirtisundeniably,knee-knockinglydelicious.MainlybecauseIcanimaginesittingacrosshislapandunbuttoningeachandeveryoneofthoselittlebuttons.
“Thefirstpairwasgiventomeasagaggift.”Hepauses.“ButthenIworethemandlikedhowwarmtheywere.”
“Howmany,Noah?Howmanydoyouown?”IaskandIthinkitsoundsatadbittooseductive.ButIcan’thelpit.Apparentlymatchingpajamasetsonmengetmehot.
Heswallows.“Ten.”
“TEN!”Ipracticallychantthisword.I’msodelightedbyhisanswerIcan’tstandit.Noahownstenpairsofadorableold-manpj’s.“Doanyofthemhavecutelittleprintsonthem?”
“No.They’reallplain.”
“Ofcoursetheyare,”Isayhappily.He’dneverbecaughtdeadinsomethingfestiveorpeppy.
Thisisbadnews.Verybadnews.BecausenowIofficially,withoutdoubt,feelsomethingforNoah.Ilikehim.Igenuinelylikehim.AndI’mattractedtohiminabigway,andjustthescentofhimhasmybloodrocketingthroughmyveins.Myheartisinflatinglikeit’sattachedtoabikepump.NowthatI’minhere,Idon’twanttoleave.
“Noah,”Isaysoftly,nottakingmyeyesfromhisface.“CanIlookaroundyourroom?Iwon’tintrudeonyourprivacyifyoudon’twantmeto.”Imeanit,too.I’llshutmyeyesrightnowandstumbleoutofhereifmeseeinghisroommakeshimuncomfortable.
Hisemeraldeyesholdmine,hefillshislungswithair,andthenletsitoutinawhoosh.“Youcanlookaround.”
HejustgavemethekeystoDisneyWorld.
Ismileandturntolookattheroom.Andthat’swhenIseetheshelvesandshelvesofbooks.Thismandoesnotjustread…he’sabooknerd.IfeelNoah’seyesonmeasIstepuptothewall-to-wallfloatingbookshelf.It’sabeautifuldesign.It’smadeofexposedwoodandblackbrushedsteel.Idon’tknowifhebuiltitorhadsomeoneelseinstallit,butclearlyit’simportanttohim,becauseit’sverywellcrafted—whichmakesitachinglysweet.
Noahlightlyclearshisthroat.“Mydadwasabigreader.Alotofthesebookswereactuallyhis.”
Pies,flowers,andbooks.LittlebylittleI’mabletostringtogetherthesepartsofNoah.It’ssortofterrifyingthathe’sturningouttobemorewonderfulthanIexpected.
ItuckmyhandsbehindmybacklikeI’minamuseumandeverythingaroundmeispreciousandfragile.“Whydoyoukeepithiddenawayinhere?”
Hechuckleslightly,andIlovetherumbleofit.“It’snothiddenaway.”
Ilookathimovermyshoulder.“Youliterallyhaveitinsidearoomthatyoukeepshutatalltimesandneverletmepeekinto.It’shidden.”
He’sstillsittingupagainsttheheadboard,andthesightofitissointimateforsomereasonIhavetolookaway.Ithinkhewouldfeellessvulnerableifhewerestandinginfrontofmecompletelynaked.Butseeinghimlounginginbedinhisfavoritepj’sinhisfavoriteroomaroundallhisfavoritebooksisintenselyvulnerable.
“Allright,Iguessit’salittlehidden.Iliketokeepmylifeprivate.Ionlyletcertainpeopleknowmeonthislevel.”
Itouchahardback—abiographyofaWorldWarIIsoldier.“ButnotmebecauseI’mjustacelebritypassingthrough.”Myvoiceislightandairy.Idon’tlookathim,Ijustkeeplookingthroughhislibraryofmostlynonfictionbooks.Apparentlyheenjoyslearningaboutanythingandeverything.Itdoesn’tsurpriseme.
“Right,”hesaysquietly.“IguessyoucouldsayI’malittlejaded.Iliketokeepthenumberofpeoplewhoknowtheemotionalpartsofmetoaminimum.”
Ilookathim.“Iunderstand.Ireallydo.Ithinkyou’vealreadyenduredenoughheartbreakforalifetime,andifIwereyou,I’dprotectmyself,too.”Hisbrowspinchtogetherlikemywordsareapunchtohisgut.Iseehisjawclenchandheblinksbeforeturninghisgreeneyestothecorneroftheroom.
“Youcanhangoutifyouwant.Pickoutabook.”Noahgestureswithhisheadtowardthecornerbehindme.
Iturnaroundandthere’sthemostcomfy,masculine-lookingcrackedleatherarmchairinthecorneroftheroom.Acozyblanketisdrapedoverthebackwithastandinglampbehindit.Itcallstome.Itwouldbeahug,thatchair.ThemostcomfortableplacetositintheentireworldfromyearsofbeingworninbyNoah’sbody.Ican’tsitthere.Ican’tinvadehisspacelikethat.
“That’sokay.Thankyou,butI’llletyouhaveyournighttoyourselfbackhere.”Iturntoflee,butNoah’svoicestopsme.
“Amelia,stay.Please.”
Islowlyslidemygazetohim,andIknowmyfaceiscontortedintoawobblyexpression.“Areyousure?Iwon’tbeaquietcompanion.I’mincapableofit.”Besttogetthistruthoutintheopennow.
Hegrins.“Iknow.”
Istartbackingtowardthechair.“AndIdon’tsitstillverywell.I’llprobablybenoisyoverhere.IbouncemyfootwhenIsittoolong.”
“That’sokay.”
“Willyoureadtomefromyourbook?”
“Absolutelynot.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“PRETTYPLEASE?”
HegivesmealookoverthetopofhisbooklikeI’mannoyinghimtohiscore,andIsmileandturnmyattentiontotheshelf,makingabigshowoflookingfortheperfectbook.“Doyouatleasthaveanyromancebooks?Somethingsteamyandemotional?”
Helaughs.“No.”
“Andyoucallyourselfareader.Youshouldbeashamed.Doyouonlyhavetheseboringnonfictionbooks?”Islideabookaboutancientphilosophersfromtheshelf,knowingthisonewillhelpputmetosleep.
“Putthatoneback.You’llhateit.Grabthethickonedowntherenearthebottom.”
“Bossy.”IdoasI’mtoldandslideoutwhatlookstobeafantasynovelofsomesort.Atleastit’sfiction.
Itakemytreasurewithmetothemostperfectchairintheworldandsettlein.IgroanloudlyandpurposelywhenIgetcomfyandNoahgivesmeside-eyefrombehindhisbook,buthedoesn’tsayanything.Igrintomyselfandturntopageone.
Icontinuetoflippagesoverthenexthour,butI’mnotreading.Idon’tevenlookatthebook.I’msoakingintomyporeseverydetailofNoah’sroom.Thewayitsmellsjustlikehisbodywash.Thewaythechair’sbutter-softleatherfeelsagainstmyskin.ThesoftscratchingsoundofNoahturningthepagesinhisbook.Ietchhishandsome,manlyprofileintomymemory.Inotethewayhisfacesoftenswhenhereads.Hesmileseverynowandthen,andifit’sbecausehecansenseI’mstaringathimorbecausehiswarbookisfunny,I’llneverknow.
JustbeyondNoah,there’sapictureonhisdresserofaboy,threegirls,andamomanddad.MyheartsqueezesandtwistsandbeforeIknowit,I’mwipingaroguetearfrommycheek.He’ssogood—thisman.Ican’timaginehowI’llbeabletowalkaway.
Howdidyoudoit,Audrey?Chapter24Amelia
ThehousesmellslikepopcornandPop-Tarts.Idon’tknowhowtocookmanythings,sowhenAnniecalledearliersuggestingwehaveanAudreyHepburnintroductorymovienighttonight,IturnedtotheonlythingsinNoah’spantrythatIcouldmakewithoutfearofsettingthehouseonfire.Eventhepopcornwastouch-and-gothereforaminute.
“Youhaveeverythingyouneed?”Noahasksme,lingeringbythefrontdoorwithhiskeysinhand.
HeandIhavesteeredclearofeachothertoday.Somethinghappenedyesterdaythathassetusonatrajectorythatneitherofuscanaffordtofollow.First,there’sthisridiculoussexualchemistrybetweenusthat,attimes,feelslikedesireisgoingtosetmyskinonliteralfire.Second,wehaveanemotionalconnection.Friendship.Thosetwocombinedfeelabsolutelylethal.
Sowithoutacknowledgingit,wetookastepback.Ihungoutathishousethisafternoonandreadmoreofthefantasybookheletmeborrow,andeventhoughhe’ssupposedtohaveMondaysoff,hewentintotheshopandworkedformostoftheafternoon.Now,he’sgoingtoJames’shousewhiletheWalkersistersandItakeoverhishouse
“Yep!”Isay,mimickinganormalpersonwhoisn’tnervoustospendaneveningwithotherwomenhavingagirls’night.ButIam.Idon’twantarepeatofHank’s.I’mdeterminedtoshowthemthatI’mcompletelynormal.N.O.R.M.A.L.Oratleast,trickthemintothinkingIam.
Noahseesrightthroughme.Hecanfeelmynervousenergyfromamileaway.Myfootistapping.I’mblinkingtoomuch.I’mabottlerocketabouttotakeoff.
Hetiltshisheadslightly,thosegreeneyeszeroinonme,andwhenheliftshisbrowinvitingly,that’sallittakesformetospillmyguts.
“Okayyyyy.No!I’msonervous!Idon’tthinkIcandothis.Doyouknowhowlongit’sbeensinceI’vehadagirls’movienight?Highschool,Noah!HIGHSCHOOL!WewerestilltalkingaboutBackstreetBoysandlayeringourHollisterpoloshirts!”
Hismoodymouthgrins,andhetakesasteptowardwhereI’mstandingonthethresholdoftheentryway.“You’llbefine.”Hetakesanotherstep.Closer,closer,closer.Thisiswhywe’veavoidedeachother.Thiskeepshappeningwhenwe’reinthesamevicinity,andIthinkwe’rebothincapableofstoppingit.Ourbodiesareonawavelengthourmindsarenotprivyto.
Ihavetotiltmychinhigherandhigherashegetscloser.Ilovethathe’stallerthanme.“Youdon’thaveanybetteradviceforme?”
“Nope.”
“Notipsforhowtogetyoursisterstoloveme?”
Heshrugs.“Don’tgetwaterringsonthecoffeetable.”
“Thatwillmakethemloveme?”
He’ssoclosenowourchestsarenearlytouching.“You’llbefine.”
“Noah?”
“Hmm?”
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iaskquietly.Likesomeoneelsemightoverhearoursecret.
“HellifIknow.IthinkIwasgoingtohugyou.”
Ibitemylipsagainstasmile.“Was?”
“Well,nowI’mhereandIdon’tfeellikeit’sagoodideaanymore.”
Inod,unabletokeepthesmilefrommymouth.Hedoesn’thavetoexplain.Webothfeelitlikeachangeinpressurebeforeastorm.There’snowonderingifhelikesmeornot—Iknowhedoes.Hewantsme,andIwanthim,butwecan’tletthathappen.Becauseforwhateverreason,he’snotinterestedinanythingromanticwithme.Smart.Arelationshipwithmewouldcomplicatehislifebeyondwhatheevenrealizes.
“Mightstilldoitanyway,”hesays,eitherhesitationornervestouchinghisvoice.
Honestybleedsbetweenus.“Iwantyouto.”
Asoftsmiletoucheshisfulllips.“Okay,Iwill.HereIgo.I’mgoingtohugyounow.”I’veneverbeenpreemptivelywarnedaboutahug.It’saddingawholenewanticipationtotheembrace.
HishandslowlyrisesandIstayverystillashisfingerssettlelightlyagainstmybicep.Histhumbrubsaquietlittlestreakofheatacrossaone-inchsectionofmyskin,andIfeelmyselfmeltingtowardhim.Ishufflealittle.Hetugsalittle.Theresultismeenteringhisarms,andjustbeforewe’resettledintowhatIknowwouldbealife-changinghug,thefrontdoorfliesopen.
“Hiya!Ohshiiiit!”It’sMadison,holdingapancoveredinplasticwrap.Shewhistleswhilecomingtoastopinthedoorway.NoahandIjumpapartlookingasguiltyasteenagersemergingfromadarkroom.TheothersisterscomeupbehindMadison.
“That’sanotherdollarinthejar,”saysAnnie,poppingherheadoverMadison’sshoulder.
Emilysurfacesontheotherside.“What?WhatdidImiss?”
Myfaceisonfire.Noahrubshisjaw.
“IthinkIjustinterruptedalittlesensualrendezvous,”saysMadisonwithanindulgenteyebrowarch.
Noahgrabsahatfromthecoatrackonthewallandpusheshishandbackthroughhishairbeforeslappingitfirmlyonhissexyhead.Sexy?No…stopthat,Amelia.
“Itwasnot…that,”saysNoahwithpaininhisvoice.“Okay,I’mleaving.”Hewon’tmakeeyecontactwithme.Ithinkhe’stooembarrassed.
ThesisterspartasNoahbarrelsthroughthemoutthedoorandintothenight.I’veneverseensomeonejumpintoatruckandbackoutofadrivewaysoquickly.
Themomenthedrivesoff,theyallturntheireyestome.Iamonebigprickleofembarrassment.DidwejustgetcaughtnakedplayingTwisterratherthanabouttohug?Feelslikeit.Butgeez,thatwasgoingtobesomehug.Ahugsopowerfulitwould’vemadeNoah’sbaby.
Iholdupmyhandsandlie.“Itwasn’tsensual.”
Madisonscoffs.“Yeahright,thatwassosexy.IknowbecauseIwasgrossed-outseeingmybrotherinasexysituation.”
“Ahug!That’sall,”Ipleaddefensivelyformyselfasmuchasthem.
“Anerotichug,”Madisonaddswithawickedgleaminhereyeassheclosesthefrontdoorwithherfoot,closingusallintogether.
—
WeallsniffandwipeoureyesasTHEENDflashesacrosstheTVscreen.
“Iloveher,”Anniesaysinaweepyvoice.
“Itoldyoushewasincredible.”Iuseatissuetoblotundermyeyes.Itdoesn’tmatterthatI’veseenthismovietwentytimes,RomanHolidayneverfailstomakemecryattheend.Weep.Likeapitifullittlebaby.
“But…”Emilyhastotakeamomenttocollectherselfbeforecontinuing.“Butwhydidshehavetoleaveintheend?”
Madisonblowshernose.“Shehadto!Shehadadutytohercountry.Shecouldn’tjuststayinRomewithhimforever.Shehadtogo,Em.”
We’reallspreadoutinvariouspositionsofsittingandlyingdownacrossNoah’slivingroom.I’monthecouchwithAnnie,Emilyisinanarmchair,andMadisonislyingonapalletofblanketsandpillowsonthefloor.We’realldisheveledanddressedfornothingbutcomfortinsweatsandmessybuns.I’vebeenhavingtoblowmybangsoutofmyeyeseveryothersecondbecauseI’mnotusedtothemyet,butthey’reworthit.Ilovethem.Ilovewhattheyrepresenttome
Thegirlsallseemefidgetingwiththebangsandlookatmemeaningfully.“What?”Iask,loweringmyhandfrommyfreshlychoppedlocks.
“Youcutyourhair,”saysMadison.
Emily’seyesbouncefromme,totheTV,andbacktome.“JustlikeAudreydidinthemovie.”
“Andyou’reinRome,”Annieadds.
Igaspandmyhandsflytomyhead.“You’reright.But,youguys,IswearI’mnotbeingcreepyandtryingtocopythemovie.Ijust…well,IdidintentionallycopyitinthebeginningbyleavinginthenightandcomingtoRomeandallthat…butthecopyingstopsthere!”
Emilynudgesmykneewithherfoot.“That’snotwhywe’reworried.We’reworried,because…Audreyleavesintheend.There’snohappilyeverafter.”
Oh.That.
Iswallow.“Well,that’snotnecessarilytrue.”I’mgraspingatstraws.Whatfeltliberatingaboutthismovieatthebeginningofmyadventureisnowfeelinglikeadeathsentence.“IthinkAudreydidgetherhappilyeverafter.Itjust…wasn’twithGregoryPeck.Shehadahappilyeverafterforherself.Andthatwasenoughforher.Ithinkwecanalllearnalessonthere.”
IhavethreepuppiesstaringbackatmethatalllookasifI’vejustmercilesslykickedthem.Madisonisthefirsttoattempttorecoverthehappymood,buthervoicesoundstoopeppy.“True.And…it’snotlikeweactuallyexpectedyou—ImeanAudrey—tostayinRomeforgood.That’simpracticalforyour—HERcareer.”
“Butnowweknowyou—her—or…ugh.Forgetit.We’realltalkingaboutyou,andweknowit,”Anniesaysquietly,pullingthatmoodrightbackdown.“Andit’sgoingtobehardtosaygoodbye.”
“AndNoah…”Emilyadds,ensuringthatthemoodisnowburiedsixfeetunderandcompletelyunrecoverable.“He’llhavetosaygoodbyetoyou…justlikeGregoryPeckdidwithAudrey.”AllourglitteringeyesshifttotheTVscreenfrozenonthedowncastfaceofthemanhimself.
Oh,Gregory.HowhaveIneverrealizedbeforethatthismovieisatragedy?ItmightaswellbeShakespeare!GOD!HowcouldAudreyjustleavelikethatintheend?
IblinkattheTV.“Maybetheystayincontact.”
“Uh-uh,”gruntsEmily,clearlyprojectingwhenshesays,“Hehasmajortrustissues.He’llneverhavealong-distancerelationship.”
“YouknowalotaboutGregoryPeck’scharacter’sbackstory?”Iasksarcastically.
Emilygivesmeapointedlook.“Iknoweverybitofit.Iknowwhathe’sbeenthrough.Iknowthathedeservesawomanwho’sgoingtostickaroundandlovehimlikeheneeds.AndIknowthaterotichallwayhugsarenotgoingtohelpthesituationifAudreyknowsshe’sleavingintheend.”
EmilythentakesapillowtothefacewhenMadisonlaunchesonefromherpallet.“Mindyourownbiscuits,Em!Gregorywouldn’twantyoumeddling.Hecanmakehisownchoices.”
“Gregoryhasbeenthroughaworldofhurt,andIjustdon’twanttoseehimgothroughitagain,becausethelasttimeawomanpassedthroughthistownandstolehisheart,heuprootedhislifetofollowher,andthenwhenhehadnochoicebuttocomehome,shestompedonit,makinghimlosefaithinallwomen!”Hereyessnaptome—expressionsofterthantheoneshe’sgivinghersister.“Nooffensetoyou,Amelia.”
Ishakemyhead.“Nonetaken.”Andreally,Idon’ttakeoffensetowhatshesaid,becauseinnowaywouldIwanttohurtNoah.Oranyone.AndIthinkshe’sright.There’snowayIcangiveNoahwhatheneedsorwants.I’mabouttosetoutonanine-monthworldtourforgoodness’sake.Noahseemslikeamatching-rocking-chairs-and-multiple-childrenkindofguy.
Suddenly,mymindsnagsbackonsomethingEmilysaid.“WhydidNoahhavenochoicebuttocomehome?”
“Okayyyy!”Anniestandsfromthecouch,grabsanotheroneoftheamazingspicy-chicken-calzone-thingsMadisonmade,andthensettlesbackonthecouch.“Ithinkwe’regettingofftopichere.Gregorywouldnotlikeitifwewerespillingallhisbeansduringgirls’night.”
Madisonbarelycontainsalaugh.“Youcan’tsayspillshisbeansinreferencetoaman,Annie.”
“Whynot?”
“BecauseI’veheardmenrefertotheirballsasbeanssometimes.”
Anniegasps.“No.Whywouldtheydothat?That’sgross.”
MadisongivesEmilyalook.“Thisiswhyweneedtotakesometripsandgetoutmore.Sheneedstoexperiencemoreoftheworld.”
“SoIcanlearnmorewordsformalegenitalia?No,thankyou,”saysAnnie,snugglingdeeperintoherblanketandmunchingonthecalzone.
EmilyraisesabrowatMadison.“Youhaven’tseentheworldandyouseemtobedoingjustfinewithtermsformaleanatomy.”
“ButIcouldlearnmore!Justimagine.IcouldlearnhowtosayballsinFrench!Italian!Spanish!”
Annietsks.“AudreyHepburnwouldneversayanythingsocrude.”
“Actually,”Iinterject,“Audreywasacallgirlinanothermovie.That’swhat’ssogreatabouther.She’sunpredictable.You’llseeherinaballgowninonemovie,andaman’soversizedshirtwithnopantsinanother.Andinherpersonallife,shehadababydeerforapet.”
“That’sit.Iwanttobeher.”Madisonholdsherhandupandbeginstickingitemsoffherfingers.“Shetravels.Hasanincrediblefashionsense.AndwoulddefinitelyteachmethewordforballsinFrench.”
“WhydoyouthinkI’malwaysturningtoAudreywhenIfeellost?”Idon’tmentionhowwatchingAudreymoviesalsomakesmefeelclosetomymomagainwhenImissher.
Madisonpointsatme.“YES.I’mdoingthatfromnowon.Ineedalifecoachandsheseemsliketheclosestthing.”
Emilyscoffs.“IthoughtIwasyourlifecoach?”
“Self-appointedlifecoach.”
“Butalifecoachnoless,”Emilysaysgrinning.
Madisondoesnotreturnhersister’ssmile.“Youturnedmeintoateacher.”
“And?”
“Ihatebeingateacher.”
“Oh,you’llgrowtolikeit.”
Thethreesisterscontinuetobanterbackandforthandit’senoughtoerasethetensionthathadfilledtheroomafterthemovie.Atleastitisforthem.They’relaughingandmyheartissinking.It’ssinkingrightdowntothefloorwheremyfeethavebeentryingtosproutlittlebabyroots.Foramomentthere,IforgotI’llbeleaving.Thistownislikeanantigravitychamber.I’mlightandhopefulinsideitscitylimits.ButIknowthatwhenit’stimetogo,I’llleave.JustlikeAudrey.
WhateverhasstartedtodevelopbetweenmeandNoahhastostop.NotonlyamIleavingsoon,hemadeitclearinthebeginningthatanythingromanticwasoffthetable.Ijustwishhisbodylanguageandeyesweren’tsayingsomethingdifferent.Ineedtobecarefulwithhim.Astheonewhowillbeleavingwhenhercarisfixed,Ineedtobetheonetoreaffirmtheboundariesheoriginallyputinplacetoprotecthimself.
Annie—theeveremotionallyperceptivesister—mustreadmythoughts.I’mstartingtothinkit’shersuperpower.“You’llfigureitout—andyou’lldowhat’sbestforyouintheend,andwhateverthatis,it’sokay.We’reyourfriendssowewillsupportyou.SowillNoah.”Chapter25Noah
“Youslepthere?”asksJames—hisheadleaningoverthebackofthecouchtostareatmeaccusingly.
Igruntandthrowmylegsoverthefrontofthecouch,sittingup.EverythingonmehurtsasIpresstheheelsofmyhandsintomyeyeswishingIhadgottenaboutsevenmorehoursofsleep.Turnsoutsleepingonacouchinmythirtiesisnotaseasyasitwasinmytwenties.“Yeah.Youneedanewcouch.”
“That’sit?That’sallyou’regonnasayaboutit?”Jameslaughs,comingaroundtosettleintoanarmchair,steamingcupofcoffeeinhand.
Ishrug.It’stooearlyforconversation.NottooearlyforJames,though.Hestartshisdayonthefarmaroundfivea.m.Ibetthat’shissecondcupofcoffee.Maybeeventhird.
“IleftyouinherewiththeTVonatnineo’clockassumingyou’dgohomewhenthegirlsleftyourhouse.AndthenIcomeoutheretofindyouhidingonmycouch,snoringaway.”
“Idon’tsnore.”Ipickupmyshirtfromthefloorandtugitdownovermyhead.“AndI’mnothiding.”
Jamesissmirking.“Ohyeah?Whatdoyouwannacallitthen?”
Ipressmytongueintomycheek.“Avoidance.”
Hechuckleslightly.“Well,atleastyou’llownuptothatmuch.”
It’stimeforcoffee.It’salwaystimeforcoffee,actually.Standingup,IgointoJames’skitchenandfindafullpotandamug.Jamesmakeshiscoffeelikeadamncowboy.Icouldthrowahorseshoeinitanditwoulddisintegrate.Itakeasipandgrimace.“Howdoyoudrinkitlikethis?”
“StartedwhenIwasakid.IthinkIburnedupallmyinsidesatanearlyagesoIdon’tevennoticeanymore.”
“DoesTommydrinkitlikethis,too?”TommyisJames’syoungerbrother.Jamesinheritedthefarmwhenhismomanddadgotolderanddidn’twanttorunitanymore,butTommyhasneverbeeninterestedinbeingafarmer.He’sasuccessfulentrepreneur,alwaystravelingandstartingupnewcompanies,restaurants,andhotelsallaroundtheworld.He’sgoodatit.Buthe’salsoadouchebag.Can’tstandhimifI’mbeinghonest.
Jameslaughs.“Hellno.Tommywon’ttouchcoffeeifit’snotinsomesortoflatteformwithanastysyrupinit.”
“Soundsaboutright.”Itakeanotherdrink,thankfulthatJamesseemstobedistractedfromanyconversationsofAmelia.IjustneedafewmoremilligramsofcaffeineinmebeforeI’mreadytodiscussoreventhinkaboutthatwoman.“Whereishenow?”
“NewYork,Ithink.Workingonanewgourmetnoodlerestaurantandsleepingwithsupermodels.”
“Whatalife.”
Hegroans.“Whatever.Youknowyou’dchoosethislifeoverthatoneanyday.Infact,youdid.”
“Tobefair,though,supermodelsweren’tinthemix.Mighthavebeendifferentifthatoptionhadbeenavailable.”
Jamesshakeshisheadwithasmile.“Bullshit.You’renotintosupermodels.”Hissmileturnssearching.“You’reintodark-hairedsingerswithasweetsmileandcurvesfordays.”
“Easy,”Isay,beforeIevenrealizethatI’mgettingterritorialaboutthethoughtofJamesadmiringAmelia’scurves.Whatthehelliswrongwithme?She’snotminetogetterritorialover.IfJameswantedtogoforAmelia,thatwouldbecompletely…unacceptable.WhoamIkidding?I’dkillhim.Limbbylimb,I’dmakeitaspainfulaspossible.
James’seyebrowsgoup.He’spleasedtohavesuccessfullyhitanerve.“Knewit.Dammit,you’refallingheadfirstforthatwoman.”Heshakeshishead.“You’reintrouble.”
IsetdownmymugofgasolinethatJameslikestothinkiscoffeeandraidhispantry.“You’resodramatic.I’mnotfallingforher.I’mattractedtoher.There’sadifference.”IpulloutaloafofhomemadebreadthatIknowisfromJenna’sBreadBasketandpopasliceintothetoaster.Actually,Ithrowintwo.“Andthat,ifyoumustknow,iswhyIspentthenighthere.BecauseIhaveenoughsensetostayawayfromthewomanI’mattractedtoafterthesungoesdown.”
Hepullsaface.“DoesthatmeanI’malwaysgoingtowakeuptoyouonmycouch?”
“Hellno.IthinkIstrainedmynecksleepingthere.”Irubthespotthatfeelslikesomeonestuckacorkscrewinmyneckandtwisted.“Ijustneededanightawaytogetmyheadonstraightagain.I’mgoodnow.”
“Sure.Yeah.”Jamesgivesamockingnod.“Anightawaycuredyou.”
Thetoastpopsupandthat’smycuetoleave.Islapsomebutterontheslicesofgoldenbrowntoastandthenripofftwopapertowels.Oneforeachpieceoftoast.Jamesnoticesbecausehe’swaytooinvestedinmylifeatthemoment.“Whydoyouhavetwopapertowels?”
“Whydoesitmatter?Youthepapertowelsheriff?”
“Justwanttoknowwhyyou’rewastingallmygoodpaperwhenyoucouldjustputyourtwoslicesoftoastinonepapertowel.”Hisvoiceisthickwithamusement.Hedoesn’tcareabouthisgoodpaper.Hecaresaboutannoyingme.
We’reinterruptedbyalightknockonthedoor.JamesandIbothfrownbeforehegoestoopenitbecausenooneinthistownmakeshousecallsthisearly.HeopensthedoorandtherestandsthewomanI’mavoiding.Hernewbangsareframingherprettyfaceandtherestofherhairistiedupinamessybunonherhead…andshe’swearingmysweatshirt.Doessheeverwearherownclothes?
James’shouseissmalllikemine,soeveninthekitchen,I’mabletomakeeyecontactwithAmeliastandingrightoutsidethefrontdoor.Sheseesmefrownasmyeyesdrop.Hercheekspink.She’sathief,caughtred-handedinanalley.ThosebigblueeyesflashandshecrossesherhandsoverherchestlikeImightstealitrightback.“Iwascold.It’scoldinyourhouse.AndIdidn’tpackasweatshirt.”Shepausesandwhenmyeyesnarrowevenfurthersheadds,“Ifoundthisonthecoatrack!”
Jameschuckleslightlyandglancesoverhisshoulderatmebeforelookingbackather.“Morning,Amelia,whatcanIdoforyou?”
ShedimplesatJamesandIfindmyselfwantingtocupmyhandsoverhercheekssohecan’tseethem.LikethosedimplesareanintimatepartofherthatonlyIshouldbeentitledtosee.Shit,I’minbigtrouble.
“Actually,IwaslookingforNoah.”
JamesstepsasideandgesturesforAmeliatocomein.Shedoesandthat’swhenInoticeshe’sstillwearingshorts.Tinyones.Theyjustpeekoutfromunderthesweatshirt,andJamesnoticesasshewalksbyhim.Becausehe’sagoodfriend,though,helooksawayquickly.Straightintomyglaringeyesinfact.
Ameliacrossestheroomandstopsinfrontofmeinthekitchen.Memoriesoflastnightstandingwithherinmyentrywayassaultme.Itouchedher.Tenderly.Whilesober.Ihaven’ttouchedawomanthatwayinalongtime.Yeah,itfeltsexy,butitwasalsosomethingdifferent.Themomentmyskinconnectedwithhers,itwasallIcoulddonottosavorit.ThewayIwouldwithsomeoneIcareabout.Ikeeptryingtotellmyselfit’sonlyattraction,butI’mnotsurethatevenIcanbelievethatanymore.Notwhenshesmilesupatmeanditfeelslikemyinsidesburstwithlight.WhenI’mdyingtoknowhowhernightwithmysisterswent.WishingIcouldcancelmydayandspendthewholeofitjustlisteningtohertalk.I’mterrified.
WhenAmeliaiswithinarm’slength,Ihandheroneoftheslicesoftoast.Atfirstshehesitates.“Idon’twanttotakeyourtoast.”
“Imadeitforyou,”Isaywithaneasyshrug.“Iwasabouttoheadhome.”
IaccidentallymakeeyecontactwithJamesandheshakeshishead,mouthing,Iknewit.Thenhemakesaheadfirst-divegesturewithhishands.
“Thankyou!”There’sanawkwardpauseasAmeliashufflesonherfeetandthenglancesbrieflyoverhershoulderatJames.Hejuststandstheresmilinglikeanidiot,nottakingthehintthatshewantstotalkwithmealone.
“Doyouwanttoridebackoverwithmeinmytruck?”
“No!”shesaysalittletoofirmlyandthensmiles.“Sorry.Uh—IwasactuallyjustcomingovertotellyouI’llbeoutofyourhairtoday.AnnieinvitedmetoworkwithherattheflowershopandIsaidIwould.”
“Idon’tthinkI’veeverheardanyonesayinviteintermsofworkbefore.Don’tfeellikeyouhavetosayyes.You’reheresoyoucangetabreak,notworkforfreeatmysister’sshop.”
Shefiddleswithherbangs.“Oh,Iknow!Iwantto.It’llbefun.Ihaven’tworkedajobthatwasn’tonastageinforever.I’mactuallylookingforwardtoit.”Sheshootsalittleairstreamatherbangstoshiftthem.AndbeforeIcancontrolmyhand,Ireachupandbrushmyfingersagainstherbangs,sweepingthemoutofhereyes.Shesmilessoftly—curiously—atthegesture.Iwouldgiveanexcuse,butIdon’thaveagoodoneanymore.SoIjustshrugwithanit-is-what-it-issmile.AndthenImakeitworse.
“YoucanworkwithmeatThePieShop.”ThewordsareoutbeforeIcanreelthembackin.WhythehelldidIsaythat?IhadjustdecidedtospendlesstimearoundAmeliaandnowI’minvitinghertospendthewholedaywithme?
“Howcomeyou’veneverinvitedmetoworkatThePieShopwithyou?”Jamesasks,clearlytryingtoshortenhislifespan.
IlookaroundAmeliatowardmyidiotfriend.“Don’tyouhavesomethingbettertodo?Cornthatneedsshucking?Cowstomilk?”
Heshakeshisheadandsettlesbackintothearmchairfacingus.“Nope.Notadamnthing.”
AmelialooksatJames.“Actually,IwashopingIcouldgetatourofyourfarmoneofthesedayswhileI’mintown.”
I’mnotannoyed.I’mnotannoyedintheleastthatshebypassedmyoffertoworkatThePieShopandaskedJamesforatourofhisfarminstead.Notannoyedatall.
“Ofcourse.Youwannacomeworkwithmeforawhiletomorrow?”
Amelia’sfacebeams.“Yes!Canwegotolunchatthediner,too?I’mtryingtosoakupasmuchofthetownasIcanwhileI’mhere.”
“Sure,”saysJamesindulgently,andIfantasizeaboutstormingacrossthelivingroomandtossinghimthroughthewindow.
Shelooksbackatmeandlightlybumpsmychestwiththebackofherhand.“Look!Nowyoudon’thavetoworryaboutmebeinginyourhairfortwowholedays.Aren’tyouhappy?”
“Sodamnhappy.”Itakeonemoreswigofbattery-acidcoffeejustbecauseIwanttofeeltheburn,andthengrabmykeysoffthecounter.“I’mgonnahead—”
“WAIT!”Ameliasays,pressingherhandfirmlyintomychest.Hereyesarewide,eyelashespracticallytouchinghereyebrows,andwhensheseesmyexpression,shedropsherhand.SheslowlybacksawaytowardthewindowwithherhandoutstretchedtowardmelikeI’maspookedhorseabouttobolt.“Just…waitasecond.”Whenshereachesthewindow,shepeeksthroughtheblindsinthedirectionofmyhouseandthensighs.“Okay,youcangohomenow!”
Herbrighttoneimmediatelyhasmesuspicious.“What’dyoudotomyhouse,Amelia?”
“Nothing.”
“Amelia.”
Shecrinkleshernoseandstartsheadingforthedoor,movingfasterandfasterwitheachstep.“Really,itwasnothing.Just…asmallfireonthestove!But-the-fire-department-put-it-out-and-they’re-gone-now-so-see-ya-later!”sheyellsinafranticrush,beforesprintingoutthefrontdoorwithherpieceoftoastclutchedinherhand.
Thedoorslamsbehindherandafteramomentofsilence,IlookatJames.“Don’tsayaw—”
“AmeliaandNoahsittinginatree…”
“Besureandhaveashittyday,James!”Isayinachippertone,throwinghimthebirdovermyshoulder.
“TellyourgirlfriendIcan’twaitforourlunchdate.Loveyou!”
Ithenhopinmytruckanddriveexactlyoneminuteovertomyhouse.Gettingout,Islamthedoorwithdetermination.IwillnotcarethatAmeliawillbespendingthedaywithAnnieinsteadofme.Iwillnotbejealousthatshe’sspendingtomorrowwithJames.Iwillnotthinkaboutherfortherestoftheday,infact.I’llenjoymysolitudeattheshopjustlikeIalwaysdo.Chapter26Amelia
I’vebeenintheflowershopwithAnnieforafewhourswhenthedoorfliesopenandNoahstepsinside.Thedoorbangsbackagainstoneofthedisplays,nearlyknockingitover.AnnieandIjump,andMabel—whoisgatheringbouquetsforherBandB—squeals.
Noahwinces.“Sorryaboutthat.”Ararecolorofredsweepsoverhischeekbones.“Ididn’tmeantomakesuchadramaticentrance.”
Mabelshovesafingerinhisdirection.“Areyoutryingtogivemeaheartattack?Don’tbothertryingtomakemekickthebucketearly,becauseIloveyoubutI’mnotleavingyoutheinninmywill.It’sgoingtomyniece.”
Noahgingerlyclosesthedoorbehindhim.“Idon’twantyourinn,Mabel.”
Shescoffs.“Well,youwouldifyouknewwhat’sgoodforyou!Honey,there’sallkindsofmoneysittinginthatinn.AndIdon’tmeantiedupintheequity,Imeanhiddeninthefloors!”
Noahfrowns.“That’snotgood.Youshouldn’tstoremoneyinthefloorboards,Mabel.Whathappensifthere’safire?”
Idon’tparticularlylovethewayhelooksatmewhenhesaysthat.Itwasatinyfire,okay?Minuscule,really.Ihadalreadyputitoutwhenthefiredepartmentarrived.Theyjusthelpedmegetallthesmokeoutofthehouse.Butanyway,lessonlearned.Don’tleaveapancakeinthepanwhileyou’remixingupanotherbatch.
Mabelputsherhandsonheramplehips.“Andwho’sgonnadothat?Areyouplanningtostartafire,Noah?Ifyouneedmoney,justtellme.Icanworkoutsomewindow-washingdayswithyousoyoudon’thavetogodoingnefariousactsforattention.”
Noahlooksdumbfounded.Andthendistraught.Andthenbacktodumbfounded.“No…Mabel…Idon’tneedmoney.Andhowwouldstartingafireeven…”Heshakeshisheadandliftshishandsup.“Youknowwhat?Nevermind.”
NoahsendsAnniealook,andinasplitsecond,sheisrushingovertothemeddlingoldwoman.“Mabel,let’sgetthosebouquetsfinishedupforyou.I’llhelp.”ThetwocontinuepickingflowersaroundthestoreandNoahfinallywalksovertowhereI’mstandingbehindthecounter,lookinglikearealworkingwoman.
“Hi,”hesays,inhisquiet,rumblyway.Hisvoiceisn’tnecessarilydeep,butithasagrittoitthatjustfeelsgoodtohear.Ineedtoplugmyears.I’mtryingtodistancemyselffromhim,andnotimaginehimwhisperinginmyearwhileI’msoakinginabubblebathwithhisfingerstracingaquietlineovermyskin—evensofterthanthecaressofhisvoice.Shoot,nowI’mpicturingthat.Anditdoesn’thelpthathehashishatofftoday,givingmethefulleffectofhisstartlingwoodsyeyes.I’mdrowninginalushevergreenforest.
“Hello,”Ireply,pullingmymindoutofthatfantasybubblebath.“Areyouheretobuyflowers?”
Hedartshiseyesaway,heavylashesblinking.“Nope.”
Iwatchashedelicatelyrunshisfingeroveravelvetypetalfromalong-stemflowerbesidethecounter,anditmakesmeshivergivenmylastfantasyofhim.“DidyouneedtotalktoAnnie?”
Again,I’mmetwithano.
“Goingtothemarketthen?”
Heshiftsonhisfeetandshakeshishead.“I’mgoodongroceries.”
Goodness,Noahisalwayscryptic,butthisistoomuch.Andawkward.He’sstandingtherepracticallyvibratingwithnervousenergyandinreturnit’smakingmenervous.I’mstartingtosweat.I’monemoreanxiousminuteawayfromgettingpitstainsonmyshirt.
Whyishejuststandinghere?Whywon’thesaymore?
I’mnottheonlyonewhonotices.Mabelsighsdeeplyfromacrosstheroomandpracticallyyells,“Blessit,child!He’shereforyou!Nowgoaheadandasktheladyout,Noah,sowecanallbefinishedwiththisbarrelofawkwardness.”
Myfaceflames.I’msureitlookslikeI’vejustdippeditintoavatoftomatojuice.Noahsmirkslightly,eyescrinklinginthecorners.“I’mtakingoffearlyandgoingfishing.ItwasonyourlistsoIthoughtI’dcomebyandseeifyouwanttocomewithme?”
SpendtheafternoonwithNoah?Idon’tknow.Iwastryingtospendthedayawayfromhimsothisthingwe’vehadhummingbetweenuswouldhopefullydiedown.It’swhyI’mplanningtospendthedaywithJamestomorrow,too.IthoughtNoahandIwereonthesamepage—thathewouldwantmetostayawayfromhimgivenhespentthenightatJames’shouselastnight.ButlookingintoNoah’seyes,Igoweak.Imaybeconfused,butIcouldn’tsaynotohimevenifItried.
ButofcourseIhavetoannoyhimfirst.
Ibendslightlytorestmyelbowsonthecounter,proppingmychinonthebacksofmyknuckles.“Why?Youmissme?”
Herollshiseyes,thecornerofhismouthtwitching.“Absolutelynot.JusttryingtoliveuptothetitleofMr.Hospitality.”
“Youdidmissme.Youwerejustsulkingaroundtheshopbecauseyoudon’tknowwhattodowithoutmebeingallupinyourlifeanymore.”
“Areyoucomingornot?”
Imovearoundthecountertostandbyhim,blinkingupathimlikeacoyDisneyprincess.“Wasitsolonelywithoutme?”
Hestartspushingmebymylowerbacktowardthedoor.LookslikeI’mgoingwithhimthen.“Itwasahellofalotmorepeacefulthanitisnow.”
“Justadmityoumissedme!”I’mgivingahalf-heartedattempttoputonthebrakes,buthekeepspushingmerightalongwithhim,touchingmybacklikehe’sdonethisathousandtimes.Likethewarmthofhishandseepingthroughmyshirtdoesn’tsendacurrentacrossmyskin.LikeIwouldn’twillinglygowithhimanywherehewanted.
“Annie,I’mtakingthisspoiledpopstaroffyourhandsfortherestoftheday.”
“Annabell!Makehimadmithemissedme!”Isay,overmyshoulder.MyquickglanceshowsmeasmilingAnnieandsmirkingMabelbeforeNoahclosesthedoorbehindus.
“Quiet,you,”saysNoah,pausingtolookdownatmewhenwemakeitouttothecurb.I’mbubblingwithlaughterthatIcan’tcontainevenifIwantedto.It’sthekindofhappylaughterthatslowsyoudown,makesyouwanttoanchoryourhandsonyourthighsjustsoyoudon’tfalltotheground.
Noah’seyesdroptomymouth.Theylingerthereforafullinandoutbreath,beforehislashesrisebackuptomyeyes.“Imissedyou.”
Mylaughterstops.
Myheartskips.
Mylipspart.
ButbeforeIcanrespond,headds,“Butyou’restillapaininmyass.”
HowdoeshemanagetosaythatinawaythatmakesmefeellikeI’mbackinthatfantasybubblebath?
—
WhenIwasyounger,therewasanoaktreeinmyfrontyard.Itwasenormous.Inthesummer,myfavoritethingtodowassitatitsbase,leanmybackagainstit,andlistentomusic.SometimesI’dtakemyguitaroutandplay,writingsongsandsoakingineverylastdropofsunshine.Nothingbadcouldtouchmeunderthatoaktreewiththesunbrushingmyskin.Noplaceinthisworldhaseverbeenabletorecapturethatfeelingofabsolutesoul-cuddlingpeace.
Untilnow.
MyarmishangingoutthewindowofNoah’struck,andmyoldfriendSunshineisrekindlingourpastloveandkissingmyexposedskin.Thewindistwirlingmyhairallaroundmyface,andatmysideisNoah—handdrapedcasuallyoverthesteeringwheel.Asoftgrinonhisperfectchiseledface.AndwhenIsayperfect,Idon’tmeanclassicallyperfect.Noahisn’taprettyboybyanymeans.Hisfaceistanandscruffy.Frecklesdownthebridgeofhisnosefromtoomuchsunandnotenoughsunscreen.Hehasarandomlittlescarabovehiseyebrowandanotherabovehislip.Iimaginehegottheminafightasaboy.Someonecalledhisbestfriendameannameandhesteppedin.Buttheuniqueconcoctionofruggedscarsandlongthickeyelashesframingbrightgreeneyes—itshouldbeillegal.Rightuptherewithcrystalmeth.
Exceptforthewind,we’vebeendrivinginsilence,mequicklysneakingpeeksofNoahovermyshoulderwhenI’msurehe’snotlooking.NormallyIlikethequietbetweenus.Butrightnow,Ifeelfidgety—whichseemslikeitwouldbeatwarwiththepeaceI’vebeenfeeling,butit’snot.Theygohandinhand.It’stheveryfeelingofcalmandserenitythatletsmeknowsomethingisunmistakablydifferent.Noahhasstruckachordinsidemeandit’squivering.Ineedtobouncemyknee.Gathermyhairupinaponytail.Checkmyphone,seethatitstillhaszerobarsofservice,andturnitoffagain.
Noahnotices,buthisonlyreactionisaslightraiseofhiseyebrow.HeknowsthatifIwanttotalkaboutit,Iwill.He’snotamanwhoneedsconstantreassuring—whatIusedtothinkwasgrumpyisreallyjusthimbeingearnest.
Andthat’sexactlywhyI’mdyinginherewithmybodyalonewithhisbody.AndmybodywantstomakehimpulloversoIcanclimbontohisbody.DidInotjustremindmyselflastnighttostoppursuingmyattractiontoNoah?TonotexplorewhyIhangonhiseveryintentionallyspokenword.Idecidedtostayawayfromhim.Far,faraway.Putupadamnfortressbetweenus.ButnowhereIam,eyestracingthelinesofhisfacelikeamapI’mmemorizing.
Weneedsomemusictofillthissilence.
Reachingforward,Ipushthedialonhisradio.It’sstatic—makingmewonderifheevenlistenstomusic—soIturnittotheneareststation.It’scountry.AnoldGeorgeStraitsongfillstheairandridesthebreezeperfectly.I’mnotreallyafanofcountrymusic,butIhavetoadmitthatsomethingaboutitpairsperfectlywithgoldensunshineandawarmday.Ishutmyeyesandletmyheadsinkbackagainsttheheadrest,enjoyingthemomentofstillness.
Overtheselastfewdays,Ifeelpartsofmecomingaliveagain.Likewhenyou’vebeensittingonyourfoottoolongandthenfinallywalkaround.It’stinglyanduncomfortableatfirst,butthenyoushakeitbacktolifeandcanmovenormallyagain.
Ourcomfymomentsuddenlyslicesinhalfwhenadifferentsongcomesonandchangesthewholevibeofthisdrive.It’sasongbyFaithHillandTimMcGraw.OnesosexyIwanttodie.“Let’smakelove…allnightlong…untilallourstrengthisgone…”IsnapmyeyesopenandlookatNoah.HishandistightenedonthesteeringwheelbutotherwisenotbetrayingthathefeelsaspricklyasIdoallofasudden.Iwonderifhe’llmakeamovetochangethestation,buthedoesn’t.Whetherit’sbecausehedoesn’twanttotipmeofftodiscomfort,orbecausehewantstoseeifI’maffectedbytheselyricsornot,Ihavenoidea.Ormaybehefindsithilarious.
Eitherway,Ilurchforwardandchangethestation.“Whew!”Isayloudly,tryingtocovertheawkwardmomentandthatInearlyjustbrokehisradiodialfromtheforceIusedtoturnit.“Youdon’tmindifIsurftheradioabit,right?I’mnotreallyinthemoodtolistentocountrytoday.”
Thecornerofhismouthhitchesup.“Shame.That’soneofmyfavorites.”
Igivehimaside-eyelookandkeepscrolling,makinghimchuckle.“Sosorrytodisappointyou.”
Ifinallysettleonacommercialaboutamen’shairlossremedy.Perfect.Zerosexualtensionhere.Andateachnewpointtheradioannouncermakes,IgivemockencouragingeyestoNoah.“Well,seethere,Noah!”Iswathisbicepplayfully,desperatetorecoverthelevityfromafewmomentsago.“There’shopeforyourbaldspotafterall.”HecontainshisamusementsoIpushharder.“Ibetyoudidn’tevenknowyouhadone.Butyoudo.It’sbackthere.Agapingshinybaldspot.Andyouknowwhat?I’magoodfriend,soifyouwant,I’llbuythiscreamandapplyitforyou.Iwon’tevenexpectanythinginreturnotherthanpancakesmadeformedailywithwhippedcreamandchocolatechipsontop.”
“I’llgladlymakeyoupancakeseverydayifyou’llquittryingtoburnmyhousedown.”
I’mjustabouttorespondwithsomethingsassyanddelightful,whenmyownvoicestopsmeinmytracks.It’smylatestchart-toppingsingle.Whenitplaysthroughthespeakers,Ifreeze.Myjoydims,andabouldersettlesbackovermychest.It’sareminderoftherealworldthatIdon’twantorneed.
“You’reabouttotourforthisalbum,right?”
Inodandswallowthelumpinmythroat.
Noahnods,too.Afteranotherpause,heasks,“Howlongwillyou…howlongdoesthetourlast?”Hisvoicesoundssuspiciouslylight.Likehe’sworkingextrahardtoconvincemethathecouldcarelessandisjustmakingsmalltalk.ButIknow.
Ifidgetwiththehemofmyshorts.“Ninemonths.I’llhaveabreakbetweentheU.S.legandtheinternationalleg,butit’llbeshort.”
AgainNoahnodsslowly.Andthistime,he’stheonetoabruptlyendthesong.“Okay,enoughwiththeradio.Besides,Ihearthatsingerisarealdiva.Andwantseveryonetolikeyogurtforsomereason,”hesayswithasmilebeforeclickingtheCDbutton.
“YouwouldhaveaCDinthere.WhostilllistenstoCDs?”SaysthewomanwhoownsandcontinuestowatchDVDs.
Hegivesmealook.“Justbegladit’snotacassette.”
Isettleintothebenchagain,lookingoutthewindow,excitedtolearnwhatisinNoah’spersonalmusiclibrary.Idon’tknowwhatI’mexpectingtohear,butIcanpromiseyouIneverinamillionyearswouldhaveguessedFrankSinatra.“LoveMeTender,”Frank’sversionofElvis’sclassicsong,croonsthroughthecabofhisoldtruckandit’ssolovelythateventhesunswoons.Ofcoursehewouldhavethis.Ofcoursebecausehe’stheclassicman.Myclassicman,mymindwantstotackon,butIswatthatthoughtawaylikeapeskygnat.
IturnsharplytolookatNoah.“ThisisnotyourCD?”
“Why?”
“Becauseyou’reathirty-year-oldmanlivinginRome,Kentucky.”
“Thirty-two.”
“Fine.Thirty-two.Youshouldbelisteningto…Idon’tknow,someweirdrockmusicfromyouryouth.Orsinceyoulikeclassicthings,maybeHankWilliams.JohnnyCash!Idon’tknow…anythingbutthis!”
Heglancesatmeandthenbacktotheroad.“DoyounotlikeFrank?”
Frank.Hewouldbesofamiliarwithhimthathefeelsinclinedtobeonafirst-namebasiswiththeman.LikeIamwithAudrey.ItphysicallyhurtsnowhowsmittenIamwithNoah.Ican’ttakemuchmore.
“IloveFrankSinatra.”Isaythisinatonesimilartoapersontryingtospeakwhiletheirinsidesarebeingsqueezed.“AswellastheothergreatsofthattimelikeEllaFitzgerald,BingCrosby,and—”
“They’reonhere,too,”Noahstatescasuallylikethisdoesn’tcompletelyfloorme.Atmysilencehelooksatmewithanamusedsmile.“It’sacompilationCD.Mygrandmaboughtitformealongtimeago.”Hechucklesandturnshiseyesbacktotheroad.“SheboughtitformebecauseIwaslisteningtotoomuchofthatweirdrockyoutalkedabout.SaidIneededtoknowtheclassicsifIhadanyhopesofgrowingintoagoodman.”
Missionaccomplished,Iwanttowhisperloudenoughforhimtohear,butinsteadIstayquiet,andtogetherweletthesongwraparoundus.Analreadyperfectmomentfeelslikeadreamnow.Whenthesongends,IlookatNoah.“Iloveyourgrandma.IwishIcouldhavemether.”
Arealgenuinesmilesplitsacrosshisfacelikethesunpoppingoverthehorizonatdawn,buthedoesn’tsayanything.
Noahpullsintoasmallparkinglotthatoverlooksadock,stretchingouttoasmallsceniclake.Therearetreesliningthebank,makingitfeelsecludedandintimate.Webothgetoutofthetruck,andhepullstwofishingpolesandatackleboxfromthebackofhistruck.Togetherwewalkdownthelongdockuntilweendatthesmallplatform.Iremovemywhitecanvassneakersandsitdown,danglingmylegsovertheside.It’shighenoughupthatmyfeethoveraboutafootabovethewater.Noahsitsbesidemeandourshoulderstouch.MyfaceflusheswithaninnocentpleasureIhaven’texperiencedinyears.
ThetipsofNoah’searsturnlightlypink—somethingthathappenstohimwhenhe’sembarrassed,I’velearned—andhescootsaway.Iftherewereawindowbetweenus,Ithinkwebothwouldhaverolleditupslowlyanddramatically.We’reactingasifwe’venevertouchedanyoneoftheoppositesexbefore.It’sabsolutelyridiculous.Andwonderful.Andconfusing.Andincredible.
“Whatwasshelike?”I’mdesperateforanyglimpseofapicturehe’llpaintforme,andalsotobreakthetensionbetweenus.
“Mygrandma?”heasksashepopsopenthetackleboxandbeginsbaitinghishook.Inod.“Shewas…tenderandfieryatthesametime.Thatwomanlovedtoloveonpeople.Iswearnoonemadeitoutofherpieshopwithoutahug.Evenstrangers.It’sjustthewayshewas.”
“Whatwashername?”
“SilvieWalker.Believeitornot,sheandMabelwerebestfriendssincetheirteenageyears.Thosetwogotintoallkindsoftroubletogether.Andsincemygrandadhadalreadypassedawaybythetimemygrandmaneededtotakeguardianshipovermeandmysisters,Mabelactedlikeoursecondparentinalotofways.Irarelywentadaywithoutseeingher.”
“Ah—that’swhyMabellovesyousomuch.”
“That’swhyshebugsmesomuch.”Hesmirks,butIhearthetendernessinhisvoice.“Imayhavelostmyparents,butI’vebeenreallyluckytobelovedbysomanypeoplewhofeellikefamilytomeandmysisters.It’swhyIdidn’thesitatetocomebackwhentheyneededmehere.”
Iopenmymouthtoaskwhytheyneededhimbackhere,buthecontinuestalkingbeforeIcan.“Speakingofnames…”Oncehegetshishookbaitedwithanasty-lookingrubberworm,hesetshisfishingpoledownandturnshisfacetome.“I’vebeenwonderinghowyouchoseyourstagename.”
“Raeismymiddlename.”Ishruglightly.“MymomusedtocallmeRae-RaewhenIwaslittlesometimes,andsoitfeltlikeasweetchoiceforastagename.AndIthoughthavingpeoplerefertomeasRaeinsteadofAmeliawouldhelpmehavesomeseparationbetweenmyprivateandprofessionallife.”
“Didit?”heasks,andthisissomethingaboutNoahthatissodifferentfromotherpeople.Mostpeoplewouldhmm,nod,andthenmoveon.Buthewantstoknowtheanswer.Didit?
“No.Infact,RaeRosejustabsorbedme.IfeellikeIhaven’tbeenAmeliainsolong.Exceptforyouandyoursisters,everyonejustcallsmeRaenow.Evenmymom.It’s…”Ifalterforpolitewordstodescribewhatitfeelslike,soIsettlewithabasicchildishideainstead.“Ihateit.IfeelsojumbledandunsureofwhoIam.”
“Thatmustbehard,”Noahsayswithoutaccusationorshock.Hedoesn’tevenofferadviceorthrowapileofshouldsonme.Doesn’tevenseemtoexpectmetocometoanyconclusionrightnow.IjustgettosaywhatIfeel,andifthat’snotfreedom,Idon’tknowwhatis.
“Mainlyit’sthelonelinessthatmakesitsohard.ThesecondIbecamefamous,everyonestoppedseeingtherealme.AlltheyseeisRaeRosenowandwhatshecandoforthemorgivethem.Youknowmymomusedtobemybestfriend?Evenshejustseesmeasatwenty-four-hourATMnow.Itsucks.Andthethingthat’ssoweirdisI’mrarelyeveralone,andyetIcanbestandinginaroomfullofhundredsofpeoplethatsupposedlylovemeandfeelcompletelyisolated.”
“Doyoufeellonelyrightnow?”
Noah’squestionpunchesmeintheheart.“No.”
Everythingwouldbesomucheasierifmyanswerwereyes.PartofmewishesIcouldhavecometothisdamntownandfoundmyjoyofmusicagainwithoutalsofindingsomethingmore.
“Good.I’mglad.”Hesoundsgenuine.Heisgenuine.“Andmaybeafterthistimeaway,you’llfindyourloveforyourcareeragain.”
“That’sexactlywhatMabelsaid.”
“Andshe’sneverwrong.Oratleast,that’swhatshe’llleadyoutobelieve.”Hegrinsandturnshiseyestothetacklebox.Hepullsoutanasty,squirmy,wetwormthatis100percentabucketofcoldwatertotheintimatemood.Good.Weneedit.“Sodoyouwanttobaityourownhook?”
“AmIawimpifIsayno?”
“Definitely.”
Imakeathinkingfacebeforeanswering.“I’mrealizingI’mokaywiththat.”
“Suityourself,butyou’remissingoutonallthefun.”
Ilaughandbumphisshoulder.“Thatwouldbeyourideaoffun.”
“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”heasks,butit’sclearbyhistonethathe’splayingalong.
“Youjustdon’tseemlikethetypeofguytopursuefun.Sosomethingsedateandpeacefullikethiswouldbeconsideredfuntoyou.”
“I’mveryfun,”hesaysdeadpan.“ForgetMr.Hospitable.EveryoneelsecallsmeMr.Fun.Youjusthaven’tbeenaroundlongenoughtohearit.”
“Mm-hmm.Sure.”
Heraisesaneyebrow,hisfulllipsturningupatthecorners.“Wantmetoproveit?”
“Yes,”Isaywithafirmnodandthenhavetoblowmybangsoutofmyeyes.“Iwouldpaygoodmoneytoseeit,infact.”
“Well,you’reinluck.It’sfreeofchargetoday.”Noahsetsdownthefishingpolesandquicklyhopstohisfeet.Ifrownupathimasheextendshishandtohelpmestand.Islidemypalmintohisandmyheartflutterswildly.Hetugsmeuptomyfeetuntilwe’renearlychesttochest.Istareupathimexpectantly.“Okay,Mr.Fun.What’sitgonnabe?”
Iwatchinaweashisfaceopensintoafullsmile,eyescrinklingatthecorners.Hethenputshishandsoftlytomyabdomen,andIgasp—whichisperfectsincethenextthingIknow,he’spushingmeoffthedockrightintothewater.Chapter27Amelia
Isurfacefromthewaterincompletedisbelief.Noahactuallypushedmeintothewater.Idraginabreathandstareupathimstandingproudlyonthedock,eyessquintingandhandsonhiships—smilemarkinghismouth.
IpointathimasItreadwater,pushingmywethairbackfrommyface.“WhatifIcouldn’tswim?”
“Butyoudo.”
“Youdidn’tknowthat,though!”
Hewavesmeoff.“Iwouldhavesavedyou.Iwasalifeguardinhighschool.”
Ofcoursehewas.Sodependable.AndIbethelookedamazinginthoseredswimtrunks.
“Ihopeyouknowyou’reintroublenow.YoujustwaituntilI—”IcutoffmyownthreatasIwatchhimreachoverthebackofhisheadandtughisshirtrightoff.“Uh…whatareyoudoing?”Iask,deeplyinshockatthesightofhistan,sculptedtorsosoeasilyondisplay.IwishmorethananythingIwasupthereonthatdockwhereIcouldrunmyfingersoverhisbronzedskin.First,I’dtenderlytouchhistattooonhisribsbecausethere’ssomethingaboutitthatmakesmefeellikeitshouldberevered.Andsecond,I’dtoucheveryothercentimeteravailable.(BecauseinthisfantasytherearenobarriersbetweenusandI’mhisgirlfriendwhohe’sdeeplyinlovewith.)
Butapparently,Noahwantsmetoseemoreofhim.Hegrinsmischievouslyasheunbuckleshisjeansandshucksthemdownoverhiships,leavinghimonlyinblackboxerbriefs.“I’mjumpingin,what’sitlooklike?”
Itlookslikethisgrown,toned,gorgeousmanisstrippingdowntohisunderwearinbroaddaylight!Mymouthisgapingopen.Mycheeksareturningintoboilingflesh.It’sawonderfulthinghewasalifeguardbecauseI’matrealriskofdrowningasItrytotreadwaterwhileconfrontedwithhisfantastic,strongbody.Idon’tcare,IwillsinktothebottomanddieahappywomanbecauseIhavenowseenperfection.
Noahisbuiltofleanlinesandcutmusclesthataren’tbulkyoroverdone.They’renaturalmuscles.Notthekindthataremeticulouslycraftedeachdayinthegym,buttheunfairkindthatcomefromamixtureofgeneticsandpush-upsinthelivingroom.Hisshouldersareboldandbroad—stomachtautandawhisperofaVdippingdownintothewaistbandofhisboxers.He’snotahairyguy,either,justafewlightpatchesofgoldenhairhereandthere.ButIdon’tlooktowherethereisleadingormypupilswilldilateandblindmeandNoahwillknowimmediatelywhatI’mthinking.AndwhatI’mthinkingisI’dliketoclimbrightupthatsturdyman.Evenjusthisexposedwristshavebeenmakingmymouthwaterallweek,letalonehispowerful,ruggedbody.
I’mrelievedfromhavingtorelyonmywillpowertostopoglinghimwhenherunsandjumpsoffthedock,cannonballingintothewater.Hecomesupwithasmileandshakeshisheadtothrowthewateroffhisface.
“Icannotbelieveyoujusttookoffyourclothesandjumpedinthewater.”
Noah—pieshopowner,sternface,andgrumpymumbler—juststrippedandjumpedintothewaterwithachildlikegrinonhisface.Thisaddsanewlayertohim.Somethingexcitingandlivelytohiscomfortable-calm.Unfortunately,it’smakinghissexymeterringoffthecharts.
Noah’sshouldersandpronouncedcollarboneshoverabovethesurfaceofthewater,andnowI’llhavetofindawaytoforgethowhishairdarkenstwoshadeswhenit’swet.Thewaydropletsclingtohiseyelashesandfirmskin.“Youchallengedmyabilitytohavefun.Ihadtoprovemyself.”
“Buthowcomeyougottotakeyourclothesofffirstandkeepthemniceanddry,butIdidn’t?”
Hiseyesdarkenwhentheyfixonme.“Ithinkyoualreadyknowtheanswertothatquestion.”Becausehewouldn’tbeabletokeephishandsoffme.BecausethisheatI’vebeenfeelingbetweenusisnotone-sided.
Butthewayhe’slookingatme—Ifeelnaked.IwatchwithappreciativeeyesasNoahraiseshishandandpushesitbackthroughhishair,wickingwaterawayandflashingmehisbicepintheprocess.Flashaway,biceps.I’matyourmercy.
“Noah!”Ireprimandsternlywhilesloshingwaterathisface.“Youcan’tsaystufflikethat!”
Hechuckles,twistingaway.“Whynot?”
“Becauseyouyourselfsaidwehavetostopflirting.And…you’reflirting!Whileyou’repracticallynaked!Inthewater!”
Iwishhewouldn’tsmileatmelikethat.Iwishhewouldn’tswimcloser.IwishIcouldthinkclearlyenoughtoswimaway.ButIcan’t.Icontinuetoweaklysloshwaterathimuntilhe’scloseenoughtowraphishandaroundmywrist.Iwanttowhimperatthesightofhim.Strongjaw,moodymouth,greeneyes,wethair.Andthefeelofhim…it’sunreal.
Hissmileisgonenow.Neitherofusareamused.Iwatchhimswallow—eyebrowspulledtogetherlikehe’sinpain.“I’mtryingsohardtostayaway,”hesaysinalowrasp.Hiseyestrackovermyfaceandnowthepullbetweenusfeelscrushing.Unbearable.“AndI’mfailing.”
Myheartrateisskyhigh,andit’snotfromtreadingwater.It’sbecausehetugsmecloserandmysoftcurvespressagainsthishardlines.Hewrapsanarmaroundmywaistwithnothingbutcompleteintention.IsuspectedallNoah’smusclesweren’tjustforshow,andIwasright.Takingmylegs,heguidesmetowrapthemaroundhimandholdontohisneckashetreadswaterforusboth.Lifeguard,indeed.Oneofhishandsliftsabovethewatertogentlypushmybangstothesideofmyface.Thoseeyes,thesamebrightgreenasthetreesliningthelake,droptomymouth.
Slowlyheswimsustowardthesandybank.Iknowwhywe’reheadedthereandmyentirebodycriesoutformetostayquiet.Keepmylipszippedanddon’truinthismoment.ButIcan’tdothattohim.
“Noah,”Iwhisper,strugglingtomakemyselfsayit.“Nothinghaschanged.I’llstillhavetoleave.”
Hedoesn’tstopswimming.“Iknow.I’mokaywithitifyouare?”
Inodquietlythenandholdonuntilhisfeetmakepurchasewiththesandybank,givinghimthesupportheneedstoholdmewithouttreadingwater.ThesunshinecombinedwithNoah’sgazesweepingovermyskinisscorching.HepullsmetightlyagainsthisbodyandIholdontighteraroundhisneck.It’sheavenandtorturerolledintoone.Hismouthhoversovermine,hisbreathwhisperingpromisesagainstmylips.Iadjustimpatientlyandpressmyfingersintotheheavyslopesofhisshouldersbecausehewon’tkissmeyetandI’mfeelinggreedy.Hissmileissoftandtauntingasheclearlyenjoysdrawingthisout—provingthathedoesn’tjustshowrestraintwithhiswords,heshowsitwithhisbody.
I,however,havenorestraintbecauseit’sbeentoolongsincewekissed.I’malsonotsureI’veeverbeenkissedorheldlikethisbyamanIlikedthismuch.Icinchmylegstightlyaroundhistorso,makinghimgruntalaugh.Ianglemyfacefortheoptimalkiss.Ifyou’regoingtodoit,doit.Hiseyesturnabsolutelyblacknow.Oneofhishandssplaysoutagainstmybackandtheothermovesuptograspthesideofmyjaw.Hisholdisaspossessiveasmine.
Iholdmybreathashislipsclosethegapandpressintomine.Bliss.Wonder.Magic.Thesoftscratchofhisfacialhairisamatchstrikeagainstmysenses.Tactileevidencethathe’srealandhisskiniscollidingwithmine.Myheartkicksfranticallyagainstmyribs,andmyskinissetablazewithpleasureanddesire.Asifit’spossible,Iholdhimtighter.Hishandspressintomyback,myhips,mythighs.Notfrantic,butmeasuredandintentional—justlikeNoah.Ourmouthsexplorethisnewintimacyinunhurriedcaresses.HistongueteasesmylipsandIsurrenderwillingly.Imakeasoftnoisethatlandssomewherebetweenamoanandawhimper,anditspurshishandsintoamorethoroughexploration,sendingatinglethrougheverypartofme.Wefindthatuniquerhythmofkissingthatfeelslikesurrenderingtoariptide.It’sdangerousandthere’snothingtodobutletitbuildandcarryyouwhereveritwants.
HetiltshisheadandImatchhisangle.Iretreatandhefollows.HeretreatsandIfollow.Histouchbrandsme,carveshisnameeverywhere,andIholdontohimlikelettinggowouldmeancertaindeath.KissingNoahismorethanIbargainedfor.It’smorethanIcouldhavehoped—anditconvincesmeofsomethingthatitshouldn’t:we’regoodtogether.
HiswonderfulcallousedhandsslideupthesoftskinofmybackasheliftsmyshirtoffmybodyandIraisemyhandsintheairtoaidhim.I’mwearingasimple,cotton,navybralette,andalthoughI’vealwaysfeltinsecureaboutthesmallsizeofmychest,NoahlooksatmeasifIholdthekeystotheworld.AsifIamsopreciousanddesirablethatheisafraidtotouchme.
“Sobeautiful,”hemumbles,whilekissingmesoftlydownthelineofmythroatandovermycollarbones.HetremblesasheholdsmeandIdon’tthinkit’sbecausehe’sgettingtired.Andsuddenly,thisallfeelstoomuch.Iletgo.Oneofusneedstobethinkingstraight,andnowI’mangryithastobeme.ButIwon’tletthisgettoocarriedawayandturnintosomethingthatevenremotelyresemblesheartacheintheend.Akissisonething—butmoreisoffthetable.
Whenourmouthsseparate,Itakeinhisruggedfaceandswollenlips.Itracethelineofhisstrongjawandneckandcollarboneswithmyfinger.Hemustseethepaininmyface—theturmoilboilingbelowmyskin—becausethedeliciousbiteofhisfingerssoftens.Hisholdonmeloosensandhepincheshiseyesshut,breathingdeeplybeforeopeningthem.“Thiswasnotagoodidea,wasit?”Hiseyeslingerovermymouthagainlikehe’safractionofasecondawayfromcontinuingwhatwestarted.ThelookinhiseyessayshewouldcarrymeuponthatbankandmakelovetomehereandnowifIgavehimtheokay.
Iswimbackwardtoputsomedistancebetweenus,draggingmyshirtwithme.“Itwasaverygoodidea—butnowwehavetoforgetit.”Again.
HenodsandwatchesasIwringmyshirtoutandwrangleitbackovermyhead.
Scrapingbothhishandsthroughhishair,hestandsalittlehigherinthewatertowhereI’mprivilegedwiththesightofhischest,abs,andsinewyfleshallexpandingandshiftingwiththemotion.HisribspushagainsthisskinandwaterbeadsoverhistautbodyandI’mafraidmytongueishangingoutthesideofmymouth.I’mtheoverheatedemoji.Faceredandpanting.
Webothtakeafewminutestosettleourselvesandthendryoffinthesunwhilefinallydoingthethingwecameheretodo:fish.Butguesswhat?Fishingisboring,anditturnsoutI’dmuchratherbemakingoutwithNoah.WhichiswhyIneedtogetawayfromhimforabit.IlookovermyshoulderatNoah,openingmymouthtoaskhimifhecouldtakemebackhomewhereI’llplantolockmyselfinmyroomfortherestoftheday,buthesayssomethingfirst.
“IhavesomeoneIneedtogomeet.But…Iwashopingyou’dcomewithme?”
Thatistheoppositeofspace.Theoppositeofforgetting.Anddefinitelytheoppositeoflockingmyselfinmyroom.
Andyet…
“Yes!”Isayimmediately.Chapter28Amelia
Noahpullsintotheparkinglotofanassisted-livinghomeandcutstheengine.Hisfaceisfullofworry,andifIhadtoguess,hemightberegrettinghischoicetobringmehere.
Ilooktowardthelongone-storybuildingandbacktoNoah.“Whoarewevisiting?”
Afterourlittlelakeadventure,Noahtookmehomesowecouldbothquicklychangeandhopbackinthetruck.Itookalittlelongerthananticipated,though,becausewhilebrushingoutmytangled,wethair,anewsonglyricpoppedinmyhead.It’sbeenmonthsandmonthssinceI’vefeltmusicallyinspired,soafterrunningtomyroomandquicklytypingouttheverseinanoteonmyphone,Ifellbackonthebedandlaughedlikeyoudowhenjoyisjusttoomuchtocontain.IwantedtocallmymomandtellhersincesheusedtobethefirstpersonI’dsharesongswith,butwehaven’thadthatkindofrelationshipinyears.ItwouldbetooawkwardandoutofthebluetocallandtellherIfeltmyfirstcreativesparkinawhile,soIjustkeptittomyselfinstead.
Now,inthetruck,Noahtakesoffthehathe’sbeenwearingalldayandsetsitaside.“Mygrandma.”
“Your—”I’mstunned.Myheadisreeling.IthoughtNoah’sgrandmahadalreadypassedawaybasedonthewayhetalksabouther.“Thegrandmawhoraisedyou?”
Henods,wearyeyesdartingtotheassisted-livingentranceandbacktome.“Iknowyouthoughtshehadalreadydied,andIletyoubelievethat,becausehonestly,it’sjusteasierthanlaunchingintoeverything.AndIcan’tstanditwhenItellpeopleandthentheystartawwinglikeI’msomesaintortheygivemethesepityeyesforhavingtotakecareofmygrandmother.SonowwhenImeetsomeonenew,Idon’ttellthem.Oratleast…notuntilIcanfullytrustthem.”
Mymindgrabsontothatlastsentencelikeasupportbaronasubway.“Andyoutrustmenow?”
Hesmilesandnodsagain.“Ido.Andifyou’reupforit,Iwantyoutomeether.But…she’snotthegrandmathatraisedmeanymore.ShewasdiagnosedwithAlzheimer’sthreeyearsago.That’swhenmysistersandImovedherintothisassisted-livinghome.Itwassuchadifficultdecision,butshe’ssomuchsaferhere,andtheyhaveincrediblecareforAlzheimer’spatients.”
Thelastofthepuzzlepiecessnaptogether.“YourgrandmaiswhyyoucamehomefromNewYork?”
“Yeah.HermemorystartedgettingreallybadtheyearIwasgone,andmysisterswouldcallmealmostdailysayinghowworriedtheywere.Grandmawoulddrivetothemarketandnotrememberhowshegotthereorhowtogethome.Luckily,everyoneinthetownknowsandlovesher,soshewasusuallysafe.Butitwasgettingprettyscary.AndafterEmilytookhertothedoctorandhadaconfirmeddiagnosis,Icouldn’tstayawayanylonger.”Hefrowns,lookinglikehisminddippedbacktoaplacethathetriestoavoid.“Merritt—myex-fiancée…”HeclarifiesasifIactuallyneededforhimtoremindmeeventhoughIalreadycarvedhernameonmyhate,hate,hatelist.“Shecouldn’tunderstandwhyIneededtomovehome.ShethoughtIshouldletmysistershandleherandlivemyownlife.”Hescoffs.“Istillcan’tbelievesheusedthatword.Sodemeaning.Likethewomanwhosacrificedherlife,toraiseandlovemeaftermyparentsdied,deservedtobereducedtobeinghandled.”Hishandsclenchintofists.
Atalossforwords,Iputmyhandonhisandsqueeze.Noahlooksdownatit,andhisfistrelaxes.Icanseethemomentheletsgoofsomeofthatpain.“Anyway,itwasforthebest.Merrittwasn’trightformeintheend.NoteveninthebeginningifI’mbeinghonest.”
There’smoretothatstory.IrememberJeanineatthedinersayingNoahwascheatedon,butI’mnotgoingtobringthatupnow.Feelslikeabitmuch.“Thanksfortellingme,”Isay,genuinelymeaningit.“Sothisiswhoyoucometohavelunchwithsooften?”
“Yeah.MysistersandIrotatesoshehassomeoneherealmosteveryday.AndMabelcomesmostevenings.Inthesummerit’saprettyevenschedule,butwhenschoolstartsback,EmilyandMadisoncan’tgetouthereintheafternoons,soAnnieandIcomemoreoften.”Henodstowardthefacility.“Thestaffisincredibletomygrandma.But…westillwanttomakesureshe’sokay.Thatshe’snotlonely.”
There’ssomuchIwanttosayrightnow.Actually,Iwanttodiveoverthisbenchseattowrapmyarmsaroundhimandsqueeze.ButIknowthat’snotwhatNoahwants.He’snotmushy.AndIthinklavishinghimwithhowwonderfulheiswouldonlyannoyhim.“I’mglad.It’sgoodshehasyouguys.”Ilookinhiseyeswithatendersmile,makingsuretokeepany“pityeyes”far,faraway.
“Ifyouwant,I’dlikeforyoutocomeinandmeether.Butyouhavetoknowthatshedoesn’talwaysliveinthepresent.Andit’sbetterforherifwedon’tcorrectherwhenshe’swrongaboutsomething.Itrytojumpintowhateverplaceortimeshe’satinthatmoment.”
“I’llfollowyourlead,”Isay,hopingtoputhimateaseandprovethathecantrustmewithher.
Hissmileistenseandhelookslikehewantstogivemoredirectionsandcaveats,butheendsupopeningthetruckdoorandhoppingoutinstead.Idothesameandwewalksidebysidethroughtheslidingdoorsofthefacility.IwishIcouldholdhishand,butIkeepmineclaspedbehindmybackinstead.
WestopatthefrontdeskandNoahoffersanicesmiletothewomaninscrubsbehindthedesk.“Hi,Mary,”hesays,pickingupapenfromthecounterandsigningbothournamesonavisitingsheet.NoahandAmelia.Sidebyside.Inhisbeautifulcursive.Briefly,Iwonderifthey’dnoticeifIstolethissheetonmywayouttokeepitasamementofortherestofmylife.
“Noah!Iwaswonderingwhenyou’dbebytoday.”Hereyessliptomeandwiden.IprobablyshouldhavewornNoah’shatinhere,butIcompletelyforgot.“Youhave…afriendwithyoutoday,”shesays,turningintoadazedzombie.Iknowthislook.It’sthelookofafan,andI’mworriedit’sgoingtoimmediatelymakethingshardforNoah.He’llregretbringingme,andthenicebubbleoftrustwe’veformedwillpop.Theend.
“Ido,”hesayssoftly,leaningalittleoverthecounteranddroppinghisvoiceevenlower.“Butwe’dappreciateitifyounotsayanythingaboutherbeingheretoanyoneelse.Itwouldn’tbegoodformygrandmaiftherewasasuddenmobofnursingstaffinherroom.”
HetwinklesatMary,and…huh.Wouldyoulookatthat?Itdoesthetrick.
MaryturnshereyesbacktoNoahandherfandomdiesawayasquicklyasitappeared.“Ofcourse.Y’allgooninandseeher.She’sinagreatmoodtodayandveryalert.”
“That’sgoodtohear.Thankyou,Mary.”
AsNoahandIwalkthroughthefacility,hestopsandtalkstonolessthantwentypeople.Alltheoldladiesadorehim.Heleansdownoftensotheycanpathischeek.HegivesouthugslikecandyonHalloween.He’ssosofthere.Tenderandlovingtoallthesepeoplewhodesperatelyneedboththosethings.Noahissuchanaturalatcaringforothers.Andit’sthatrealizationthathasmyheartleapingoffahighdivestraightintothedeependofthefeelingspool.
NoahandIfinallymakeittohisgrandma’sdoor,bothsteepedinthescentsofatleasttwentydifferentperfumes.IlaughwhenIseethatsomeoneleftaredlipstickstainonNoah’scheek,andIwipeitoff.Herollshiseyeslightlywithamusementlikehe’dforgivetheseladiesanything.
“OnetimeIhadaneighty-year-oldladypinchmyasswhenIleanedover.”
Ilaughandgiveanexaggeratedlooktothebunsinquestion.“Can’tsayIblameher.You’vegotagoodassbackthere.”
“Stopit.”Hegroansbeforeknockinglightlyonthedoorandthenopensit.HegivesmeonequickglanceoverhisshoulderandIseethehesitationinhiseyes.He’sworriedaboutshowingmethispartofhislife.Ismileandmakelittlepinchersoutofmyfingers,anglingthemtowardhisbutttogethimtokeepmoving.Hegrabsmywristbeforemyfingerscanmakecontactwithanycheekage,andthenheslideshishanddowntoclaspwithmyfingers.I’mlight-headedfromtheemotionalconnection.Moreintimatethanthatkissinthelakesomehow.
Hepullsmewithhiminsidethehappy,sunlitroom.Wepassawallofpictures,filledwithNoahandhissistersatallstagesoftheirlives.Iwanttolingerandstareateachone,butNoahmovesmetowardthesweetlittlewomansittinginachair,lookingoutamassivepicturewindowtowardthefacilitygarden.
“Well,hithere,darlin’,”Noahsaysandthebutterysofttoneofhisvoicehaseachofmybonesmeltingintogoo.
Hisgrandma—Silvie—looksupathimandit’sclearshedoesn’tquiteknowwhattothinkatfirstbutistryingtounderstand.Shehasshort,whitehair,curledinthatadorablewaythatmanyolderladiesliketostyletheirhair,andhasporcelainskinsothinit’snearlytranslucent.ButSilvieisnotwearingasweatsuit.Noway.It’sclearthatthiswomaniseveryinchthesouthernbelleshe’salwaysbeen.Astrandofbeadedpearlsliesaroundherslenderneck,andshe’swearingabrightpinkcardiganwithniceblacklinencapris.
“Well,yes,hi…”shesayskindlywithonlyasoftfurrowtoherbrow.It’sclearshehasnoideawhoNoahis,andmyheartsqueezesforhim.
Hedoesn’twaitforhertoaskanyquestions.HepullsmeupbesidehimandwrapshisarmaroundmelikeIbelongherewithhim.“I’msorryI’mlateforourusuallunchdate,”hesayswithasunshinesmile.“Ihopeyoudon’tmind,butIbroughtanadditiontoday.Mrs.Walker,thisismyfriendAmelia.Amelia,thisisSilvieWalker.Thislovelyladygraciouslyhaslunchwithmeafewtimesaweektokeepmecompany.”IknowheexplainsthisforSilvie’sbenefitratherthanmine.
“It’ssowonderfultomeetyou,Mrs.Walker.DoyoumindifIstickaroundandintrudeonyourlunchdate?”
Silvie’seyes—greenlikeNoah’sbutmorecloudyincolorthanhis—bouncebetweenusalittlenervously.“Ofcourse…youtwogoonandhaveaseat.ButI’llwarnyou,Ican’tvisitfortoolong.MygrandsonandgranddaughterswillbehomefromschoolshortlyandIneedtofinishbakingsomecookiesforthem.”Shewinksatme.“Becausealllittleonesneedacookienowandagainwhentheygethomefromlearning.”
Noah’sfingerssqueezemyshoulderlightlyandthenheletsgoofme,gesturingformetotakethechairbesidehim.“Luckykids,”hesayswithachuckle.“Ilovecookies.”
Hereyesbrighten,andit’samazingtowatchhowwellNoahknowsher.Howtodisarmherimmediatelyandsmoothherworryaway.“Well,doyounow?I’mmoreofapiewomanmyself.ButIdolikeagoodcookiefromtimetotime.Ionlymake’embecausemygrandsondoesn’tlikepie,thelittlerascal.”ShesmilesandIcanseethroughhermemorieshowlovedNoahwasasachild.Stillloved…justinadifferentway.
Ifhe’shurtbyhernotrealizingthatheishergrandson,hedoesn’tshowitabit.Hecrossesalegovertheotherandlooksatme.“Whataboutyou,Amelia?Doyoulikecookiesorpie?”
IgiveanexaggeratedlookofconsiderationbeforeIgrin.“Youknow?I’mmoreofapancakegal,actually.”
Silvieraiseshereyebrows.“Thatso?Pancakesaregood,too…”shesaysinagrandmotherlywaythatmakesmefeelvalidatedandimportant.
Theconversationcontinueslikethisforthenextfewminutes,andwhenit’sclearthatSilviestartstofeeltiredbyourvisitandlookmoredistant,Noahmakesanexcuseforus,sayingheneedstogetbacktowork.Heasksifhecanhugherbeforeheleavesandsheopensherarmswidetoaccepthim.Andthenshocksusbothbydoingthesameforme.
Andit’sinthatmoment,lockedinSilvie’swarmhug,thatIlookupandseeNoahstaringatme,andIcouldswearhiseyesaremisty.GregoryPeck’sdowncastfaceflashesinmymindandmyheartsinks.Ishouldn’thavekissedhim.Ishouldn’thavelethimintroducemetothisimportantpartofhislife.
It’sgoingtomakeitthatmuchmorepainfulwhenIleave.Chapter29Noah
“Weneedtotalk,”saysAmelia,turningabruptlytocornermebythedoorassoonaswewalkintothehouse.Thisisn’tagood,sexysortofcornering.There’saheavinessinhereyesandshe’sworryingherbottomlip.Iextendmyhandstorubthesidesofherarms,butsheshakesherheadsharply.
“No,don’tdothat,”shesays,andthelookinhereyesmakesmedropmyarmsbymysides.
Istarttopanic.DidIdosomethingwrong?Wasthatkissinthelaketoomuch?Maybeshewasn’treadyforitandImisreadallthesigns.
Ameliabreathesindeeplyandletsitoutinoneslowexhale.“Noah…”
“I’msorry,”Iblurt,unabletostomachthethoughtofhavingpushedhertoofarorupsether.“IwasthoughtlessatthelakeandIshouldhaveexplicitlyaskedwhatyouwerecomfortablewith,and—”
Shelaughs,cuttingoffmyapology.Hereyesaresparklingwithhumor,andmaybeadropofsadness.“YouthinkI’mupsetaboutthekiss?Noah,I’mupsetbecause…Ilikeyou.”Shesmilestentatively.“AndIshouldn’thaveletyoukissme,becauseforme,itwasn’tjustphysical.Ihave…well,I’vedevelopedveryrealfeelingsforyoueventhoughyoutoldmenotto.”
Nowit’smyturntoexpelaheavybreath.Irunmyhandthroughmyhairandresisttheurgetoleanbackagainstthedoorforsupport.Damn.Thisisbad.Wedefinitelyshouldn’thavekissed.Itwasokaywhenitwasjustaphysicalurge,butknowingshehasfeelingsformechangeseverything.
It’saproblembecauseIalsohavefeelingsforher.Bigones.Inconvenientones,andIdon’twanttodoanythingaboutthem.Twopeoplecan’tliveunderthesameroofforweeksknowingtheybothhavethesamefeelingsandnotinadvertentlypropeltheirrelationshipforward.Andthat’swhyIdon’tadmittoherthatI’mcrazyabouther.ThatIcanbarelysleepatnightbecauseIlieawaketormentedwiththethoughtthatshe’ssleepingacrossthehallfromme.ThatI’venevermetanyonewhomakesmefeelthewayshedoes.
“Ameli—”
Herhandracesuptopressagainstmymouth.“No.Don’tsayanything!Youwereveryclearinthebeginningwithyourintentions,andIdon’texpectasinglethingfromyou.Nothingwillchange.We’refriends,andit’sgoingtostaythatway.”ShedropsherhandwhenshefeelscontentthatI’mnotgoingtotrytointerrupther.“I’monlytellingyounowbecauseIneedforustosetupsomerulesfromhereonoutsoI’mnottemptedforustocrossthelineagain.”
“Rules,”Isay,notlikingthewaythatwordsoundscomingoutofmymouth.“Likewhat?”Iaskwhilegoingintothekitchenforabeer,becausesomethingtellsmeI’mgoingtoneedit.
AmeliafollowsmeandsitsonthebarstoolundertheislandwhileIpulltwobeersfromthefridge.Sheacceptshersandtakesalongdrinkbeforesettingitdownfirmlyonthecounter,wincingwhensheaddsalittletoomuchforcetoitandnearlycracksthebottle.
Shegivesmeacute,apologeticsmilebeforemakingherfacesolemnagain.“Well,forstarters,nomorekissing.Butthatone’sobvious.”
Obviousornot,Ihateit.IwanttokissheralldayeverydayuntilIeventuallydiefromlackofoxygen.
“Okay,goon.”Isetmybeeronthecounterandcrossmyarms.
Shewatchesmymovements,wearingaprivategrin,andthenlightlyclearsherthroat.“Ialsothinkitwouldbebetterifwejustdidn’ttouchatall.Ever.”
Theextraadditionofthateverfeelslikeanunnecessarypunchafteraboxingmatchthat’salreadyover.NevertouchAmeliaagainafterknowingwhatit’sliketohaveherinmyarms?Knowingwhatit’sliketofeelhersatisfiedsighagainstmylips?Torture.It’llbenothingshortofit,butIknowshe’sright.Thishastohappen.
“Notouching,gotit.IsthereaminimaldistanceIshouldkeepfromyou?Icouldstopbythehardwarestoreandbuyusbothatapemeasuretocarryaround.”
Amelia’seyesnarrowplayfully.“Let’ssayfourfeettobesafe.Andlast,Ithinkweshouldnothangoutaloneanymore.”
Isuckinasharpbreathwiththatonebecauseitsomehowhurtsmorethantheothers.Iwanttofightit,butitwouldn’tbefairofmetopushbackagainstherruleswhenshe’stryingsohardtorespectmine.
Raisingmybeertomylips,Itakealongpullofittoputoffhavingtorespond.Herblueeyeswatchmeintentlylikeshe’sontheedgeofherseatformyanswer.
Ifinallysetdownmybeerandbracemyself.“IthoughtIcouldmakeitworkwithMerritteventhoughIcouldseeourdifferencesfromthemomentImether.”Thiswasobviouslynotthesortofresponsesheanticipated.Amelia’seyeswidenalittleinshock,andherbrowslift.Ifeelthatfamiliarthunderinginmychestthatalwaysprecedesspillinganemotionalpartofme,butIneedhertoknow.
“Ourworldswerecompletelyoppositefromthestart,butIchosetoignoreit,andthat’swhateventuallyledtotheendofourrelationship.ShewasacitydwellerwhothrivedonstressandthehustleandbustleofNewYork;andIlikedbeingherewithmyfamily,havingquietgamenightsonSaturdaysandknowingthenameofeverypersonIpassonthesidewalk.WhenIproposedtoMerrittafterhervisithere,sheaccepted,butmadeitclearthatshecouldnotlivehere,andI’dhavetogowithhertoNewYork.”
IthinkbacktothosemonthsinthebigcityandhowmuchIhatedbrushingshoulderswithstrangersineverycornerofit.Itwassopopulated.Andbusy.Everyonehadapurposeatalltimes.Icouldn’tunderstandforthelifeofmehowcitylifeenergizedMerritt.Howshelovedthesubwayandhailingarideeverywherewewent.ThelongerIwasthere,themoreIhatedit.Also,thejobatthebankdidn’thelp.Imissedthesoftedgesofmytown—evenifthepeopleheredodrivemenuts.
“Youreallydon’thavetoexplainanythingtome,Noah.”
“Thankyou,butIwantyoutoknowwhyI’msohesitanttostartsomethingbetweenus…ifyouwanttoknow?”
Shenods.“Ido.”
SoIcontinue.“IreallythoughtourfeelingscouldmakeupforallthedifferencesbetweenMerrittandme.Butitwasn’tenough.Turnsout,wehadbothfalleninlovewiththeideaofeachother,ratherthanwhowereallywere.”IlookdownjusttogetabreakfromAmelia’sfocusandtapthecounterwithmyknuckle.“Istillspentamiserableyearthere,rarelyseeingherbecauseofherjob,andthenfightingmostofthetimewhenweweretogether.AndthenwhenIneededtocomebackhereformygrandma…well,that’swhenitallimplodedandIwasabletoreallyseethatMerrittandIwerenevermeanttobe.Oilandwater.”IlookatAmeliaagainandshakemyhead.“Igavesomuchofmyselfstrivingtomakeitworkwithher,andIjustcan’tdothatagain.NotevensureI’mataplaceinmylifewhereIcoulddothatifIwantedto.”
Unfortunately,somuchofwhat’shappeningbetweenmeandAmeliamirrorshowitwentwithMerritt.Awhirlwindromancewithawomanpassingthroughtownwhoneverplanstostay.ExceptonanevengreaterscalebecauseAmeliahasfameontopofademandingcareer.She’sgoingtoneedsomeonewho’scomfortablewithalong-distancerelationship,whocandropeverythingandflytoherwhensheneedsme.AndasmuchasIwantto,Ican’tbethatguyforher.I’djustweighherdownlikeIdidMerritt.
We’rebothquietforaminute,untilAmeliastandsandpicksupherbeer.“Thanksfortellingme.Ithelpsknowingwhy.”AndIcantellshemeansit.Hervoiceissoftandhersmileiskind.She’ssounderstandingitmakesmeache.“Theseruleswillwork.Let’sfollowthem,okay?”
Iholdhergazeandnodslowly.Sheturnsaway,headingtowardherroom,butpausesbeforefacingmeonemoretime.“AndNoah?”
“Hmm?”
“Shedidn’tdeserveyou.Iagreethatsometimesoppositesareterribletogether—likepicklesonbrownies.”Sheshiversindisgust,makingmelaugh.“Butsometimes…Ithinktheycanmakeeachotherbetter.Likemaplesyrupandbacon.”
Shegivesmeonemoreofherheart-stoppingsmilesbeforeshegoestoherroomfortherestofthenight.Igotomineandtrytoread,butIcan’tfocusbecauseallIcanthinkaboutishowmuchIdamnwelllovemaplesyrupwithbacon.
“HiNoah,it’sme.Amelia.Haha,youprobablyalreadyknewthat.I’mcallingfromJames’shouse…which…youprobablyknew,too,sinceI’mnotatyourhouseandalsoleavingthismessageonyouransweringmachine.Anyyyywhoooo.JustlettingyouknowJamesthoughtitwouldbefunifwethrewalittledinnerpartytonightwithyouandyoursisters.SoI’mgoingtohangouthereforthedayandhelphimmakedinner.Ifyouseesmoke,sendhelp.Ifyoudon’tseesmoke,comeoveraroundsix.Yoursistersarealreadyconfirmedtocome,too.Soooyeah,okay,I’llhangupn—”BEEP.
Mywhite-knuckledfistsareleaningonthecounter,bracketingtheansweringmachineI’veneverwantedtothrowoutthewindowasmuchasIdonow.Whatthehelliswrongwithme?I’veneverfeltlikeajealousassholebefore,buthearingthatAmeliaandJameshavealreadyspenttheentiredaytogetheronhisfarmandarenowthrowingadinnerpartylikesomesortofwhite-picket-fencecouplehasmecontemplatingmurderformybestfriend.It’snotfairthatJamesgetstospendendlesstimewithher,andnowsheandIhavethesenewrules.
Damnrules.
Isighandscrapemyhandsovermyfacehopingtoclearmyheadofthispoundingjealousy.Itdoesn’tsubsideevenabit.
Instead,mymindlingersbacktothatkissyesterdaythatIfeltallthewayinmysoul.Shewassorightinmyarms—sweetandsoftandholdingontomelikesheneededme.Ofcourse,itwasamistake.Asexy,hot,unforgettablemistake.Butreallywhatelsecoulditbe?
WhydidithavetobethebestkissofmywholedamnlifeandallIcouldthinkaboutatworktoday?ThreetimesIrealizedIhadzonedoutwhilerollingoutthedoughforapiecrust.BythetimeIcamebacktorealityinthepieshopinsteadoftreadingwaterwithAmeliabackinthelake,thebutterinmydoughhadmeltedandIhadtostartover.Everyonenoticed,too.HarrietcameinforapiewhileMabelwasalsointheshopandallhellbrokeloose.I’dmixedupwhogotwhichpieandthenextthingIknew,Harrietwasgivingmethethirddegree.
“See?It’sthatwomanthat’smakinghimallscrambledinthebrain!”Harriethadsaiditlikeanaccusation.
“Well,ofcoursesheis.Theboyissmitten,anyonecantell.Andwhat’swrongwiththat?Hedeserveshappiness,”saidMabel.Everyoneissousedtotalkingaroundme.Rarelydotheyeverneedmetoparticipate,whichisjustfinebyme
Harriethadscowled.“Atwhatcost?I’lltellyouwhat!Hissoul.Thatwomanissleepinginhishouseandtemptinghiminallsortsofways.”
Mabelscoffedandrolledhereyes.“Leavehissoulalone,Harriet,andmindyourownbeeswax.Ithinkyoucouldstandtobetemptedalittle…maybeit’dmakeyoulessbitterallthetime.”
ButHarrietwasn’twrong—aboutthebrainscramblingatleast.Mysoulisstillupfordebate.Andtheproblemis,Ican’taffordtohavemybrainscrambledrightnow.IneedeverylickofsenseIcangettohelpmewithstandfallinginlovewithAmeliaRose.Except…no.IthinkIalreadyhave.
—
I’mstandingoutsideofJames’sfrontdoorat5:58.That’sawholetwominutesearly.AndbecauseIcan’thaveAmeliathinkingIwassoeagertoseeherafterourfirstfulldayapart,andthatIhustledthroughashowerandpracticallysprintedacrossthelongfrontyardstomakesureIgothereatsix,Istandoutherequietlyandwaituntilmywatchsaysexactlysixo’clocktoknock.
ButassoonasIraisemyhand,thedoorfliesopen.I’mimmediatelygreetedwithAmelia’sprettysmile.Well,firstherfaceissurprised,andthenshesmiles,andthenshewipesitoffagainlikemaybeshewasn’tsupposedtosmile.She’saslotmachineforpossibleemotions.
“Hi!Sorry.Ididn’tknowyouwereouthere.Iwasactuallyjustabouttoruntoyourplacetograbasweatshirt.”Shemeansmysweatshirt.Iwouldn’tbesurprisedifthatthingturnsupmissingaftersheleavestown.
“Oh.Okay…andIwasjustgettingreadytoknock.Ihaven’tbeenstandingouthereoranything.”Igesturetowardthenow-opendoorincaseshemighthavebeentemptedtothinkI’dknockonthehouse’ssidinginstead.
ShesmilesagainandI’mlostinit.“Yeah.Ifigured.”
Westareateachotherforaminuteanditfeelshardtobreathe.Hardtothink.Hardtodoanythingbutimaginewrappingmyarmsaroundherandpullingherintomychest.I’dkissherhair.Herforehead.Workmywaydownhertempleandhercheektothecornerofhermouthto…
“Didyouhaveagoodday?”
“No,”IsayquicklybeforeIrealizeit.Andthenwhenshesmile-frowns,Isay,“Imean,yeah.”
She’sconfusednow.Rightfullyso.Wefallbackintoawkwardsilence.I’veneverbeengoodatsmalltalkanyway.Mybrainjustwon’tdoit.InsteadI’mdyingtosayexactlywhatI’mthinking:Youlookgorgeous.Ilikeyourjeanshorts—Ihaven’tseentheseonyoubefore.Yourwhitetanktopiscute.Hasyourmanagerbuggedyoutoday?Idon’twantyoutogo.I’vebeendreamingofkissingyouagain.Idon’ttrustmyselfalonewithyou.AndIwanttoheareverysingledetailofyourdayfromstarttofinish,don’tleaveanythingout.Iknowshe’dtellme.She’dspillherprettygutsandhereyeswouldsparkleandlightupliketheydowhenshe’shappy.
Instead,Idon’tsayanyofthisbecauseI’manaddicttryingtocutmyselfoffcoldturkey.
“Whataboutyou?Howwasyourday?”
“Good.Itwasgood.”
“Good.”
Webothnod.We’rerobotsdoingapoorimitationofhumans.NextI’llbowandshewillcurtsy.Thisissomessedup.Oneamazingkissandwedon’tknowhowtointeractanymore.
“Okay,well,I’mgoingtogograbthatsweatshirt,”shesayscheerily.
“Right.”Istepasidesoshecanpass,butshestepsforwardinthesamedirection.Wealmostcollideandshehitsthebrakes.OnequickawkwardchuckleandIstepaside.Forabriefmomentwhenshelooksupatme,Iseehershouldersrelaxslightly.Hersmileturnsself-deprecatingbutsweet.It’sthemomentinthemoviewhenwebothliftourhumanmasksandrevealthatwe’rethesameolerobotswe’vealwaysbeen,trappedinsidetherolewe’vebeenforcedtoplay.
Assheslidesbymeandoutthedoor,Icatchahintofhersweetscent.Amontagehitsmeofmyhandtangledinherhair.Hermoutheagerlyexploringmine.Herlegstiedaroundmywaist.Thetasteofherlips,andherneck,and…
“Well,thatwasweirdtowitness.”
IlookupandJamesisstandingwithabeerinhishand,ontheedgeofthekitchenobviouslyhavingwatchedthatwholesceneplayout.Igruntandslamthedoorshutbehindmewiththeheelofmyboot.
Hewantsmetoengage,butIwon’tdoit.Instead,Igointothekitchenandseewhatthey’vegotcooking.Surprise,surprise,it’sbreakfastfood.Scrambledeggsaresteamingonthestove,there’sbiscuitsintheoven,cookedbacononaplate,andgravysimmeringinaskillet.Irecognizeitasoneofmygrandma’soldones.ShegaveittoJamesonenightseveralyearsagowhenhecameoverfordinnerandconfessedtoherthathedidn’townacast-ironskillet.
IblockouttheintrudingimagesofJamesteachingAmeliahowtomakecountrygravywithmygrandma’sironskillet.IswearifheputhisarmsaroundhertoteachherhowtowhisktheflourintothemilkandbacongreaseIwillpunchhiminthethroat.I’veneverbeentheviolenttype,butit’snevertoolatetochange.
“Yougottaseethese,”Jamessays,completelyoblivioustomynewhatredforhim.Hewalksovertoaplatecoveredinfoilandevenbeforeheliftsit,Iknowwhat’sunderthere.Icanseetheheightandrecognizethesmellbecauseit’sthesamesmellthat’sbeenlingeringaroundmyhousethepastfewdays.
Pancakes.
Reallyshittypancakes.
IcanfeelJameswatchingmecloselyforsomekindofresponse,soIkeepmyfaceneutral.Inodslowlywiththecornersofmymouthturneddown.“Pancakes.”
“That’sallyou’regoingtosay?”
“Whatelsewereyouhopingfor?”
Jamessetshisbeerdownandfoldshisarms.“Iwantyoutoexplaintome,whatsortofholdthisparticularbreakfastitemhasoverher?Thatwomanobsessivelyworkedonthesepancakesforanhourandwouldn’tletmegiveherasingleinstructionforthem.Barelylookedatmeorrespondedtoquestionswhileshewasmakingthem—justkepttastingthemandgettingupsetwhentheydidn’ttasteanythinglikehis.”Stillhesearchesmyfaceforahintofacknowledgment,butIdon’tgiveinbecauseI’mpracticing.See,thisisjusttheminorleaguescomparedtowhenmynosysistersgethere.AndifIdon’twantanyonefindingoutaboutwhathappenedinthelakeyesterday,IhavetomakesureI’masstoicasever.
Ishrugandturntoopenhisfridgeinsearchofabeer.Ifindit,popthetop,andthenresisttheurgetogooverandinspecteachandeveryoneofherpancakes.Seeifshe’sgettinganyclosertofiguringitout.Theydon’tlookascrispyaslasttimesoIthinkshe’satleastlearnedshedoesn’thavetobutterthepaneachtimesheputsinanewdollopofbatter.
“Shelikespancakes.That’sallthereistoit.”Idon’ttellJamesaboutAmelia’slist,because,frankly,Idon’twanthimtoknow.He’sspentalldaywithherandmight’vefiguredoutthingsaboutAmeliathatI’llnevergetto.Thatthoughtmakesmesickwithjealousy,andnowIwanttowithholdanythingIcanfromhimonprinciple.
“Shelikethefarm?”Iaskthisquestioninthesametonesomeonemightask,Didyouevergetthatsuspiciousmoleremoved?
ButthisguyhasbeenmybestfriendsinceIwasborn.AnypokerfaceIthinkI’mholdingisclearlytransparenttohim.Hechuckles.“Justaskme,youlittleshit.”
“Askyouwhat?”
Heraiseshischinslightly.“AskifIlikeher.”
“No.”Itakeanotherdrink.
“Askifsheflirtedwithmetoday.”
Iclenchmyteethandlookdown,swallowingthelumpinmythroat.“No.”
Hegroanssoloudanddramatically,tippinghisheadbacktostareintoheaven.“You’resoobnoxiouswithyourstoicism.Youdon’tdeserveit,butyouknowwhat?I’mgonnatellyouanywaybecauseIhopesomedaywhenI’mlovesick,anotherpooridiotwillputmeoutofmymisery.”
Idon’tknowwhathe’sabouttosay,butmyheartrateratchetsup.IthinkIaccidentallytipforwardjusttheslightestbit,too.Thankfully,hedoesn’tnoticebecausehe’sstirringthegravyorelsehewouldhavecommented.
“Idon’tlikeher,becausenumberone,I’magreatfriendandcouldseefromdayonethatyouhaveathingforher.Numbertwo,I’dhavetobeafooltocompetewithyouafterthewayshementionedyournameatleastathousandtimestoday.”
Ihavetopressmytongueintothesideofmycheektokeepfromsmiling.“Shetalkedaboutme?”
Herollshiseyes.“Yes.Everythingwasacommentaryaboutwhatshethinksyouwouldhavesaidatanygivenmoment.Wonderingifyou’veeverhelpedmeonthefarm.HowlonghaveIknownyou?Wouldn’tNoahfindthishilarious?AnythingandeverythingNoahWalkerrelated.SonowwhatIwanttoknowishowyoufeelabouther,becauseI’mstartingtothinkshe’sgotrealfeelingsforyou.”
Itakeaswigofmybeerandpreparemylie.“Ithinkshe’sbeenintownforaweekandcan’thavefeelingsformethatfast.”
“Bullshit.”
“Ithinkshe’strouble.”
“Doublebullshit.”
Isighandlookatthestackofpancakes.“IthinkI’mintrouble.”
“Bingo.Thereitis.Sodoyouthinkyoutwocan—”WhateverJameswasgoingtoaskgetscutoffwhenAmeliafliesbackthroughthefrontdoor,slightlyoutofbreathandwhirlingintothekitchen.
“Iforgottogetthebiscuitsout!”Sheslamsdowntheovendoor,hairflyingaroundhershoulders,andcheeksflushedfromthefull-tiltsprintshemusthavedonefrommyhousebackoverhere.Hereyeslightupwhensheseesthem.“Comeoutofthere,mylittlebiscuit-angel-babies.You’retoowholesometoburnlikeyourevilpancakecousinsoverthere.”Ameliapeeksoverhershoulderwithamischievousgrininmydirection.“Andyes,IdidruinanotherbatchofpancakesandIdon’tneedanycommentsfromthesnootypeanutgalleryaboutit,m’kay?Icanperformonastageinfive-inchhighheelsforthreesolidhours,simultaneouslydancingandsinginginfrontofthousandsofpeople,butIcan’tmakeafreakingbatchofpancakes.Absurd.Inexcusable,really.Butthat’sokaybecausenowIcanmakeBISCUITSANDGRAVY.”Shegrinsfromeartoear.“I’msocountrynowIdon’thearmyownvoiceinmyhead,it’sjustReeseWitherspoonandDollyPartontalkinginthere.”
ShecontinuesonbabblingtoherselflikeI’vecometorealizesheoftendoes,butI’mnottotallylistening.I’mfocusingonhowshe’swearingmysweatshirtagain.HowtheimageofanyotherwomanwearingthatsweatshirtwillnevercomparetothesightofitdrapedoverAmelia.Shedefinitelyhastotakeitwithherwhenshegoes.OrI’llhavetoburnit.GiveitaViking’sfuneralandsenditdownthelakeinflames.
WhenIfinallyglanceup,Jamesisstaringatmewithasmugsmile.Herunshisthumbacrosshisneckintheuniversalsymbolofyou’readeadman.Chapter30Amelia
“Ohstop,it’snotthatbad!”IrestmyelbowsonthetableandpointmyemptyforkatMadisonacrossthetable.
MadisonwrapsherhandaroundherthroatandgagsaftertakingabitefromoneofthepancakesImade.Shemouthsthewordwaterlikeshe’sbeenintheSaharaDesertforthirty-fiveyears.Igrabanuneatenbiscuitandthrowitatherhead.
Shegrabsthebiscuitfromherlapandtakesabigbite.“Thebiscuitsaregood.Yourpancakes,however,areinedible.”Abigsmilewrapsaroundhermouthful.
“That’sbecausethebiscuitswerefromacan,”Jamesoffersunhelpfullyfromdownthetable.
Igaspinmockoutrageandlookdaggersathim.“Youcan’tjustoutmybiscuitslikethat!”
Emilylaughs.“Hatetoburstyourbubblebutwealltookonebiteofthosebiscuitsandknewyoudidn’tmakethem.”
“Sorude!Annie,tellthemmypancakesweren’tthatbad.”
MysweetAnniepressesherlipstogetherwithanapologeticsmile.Shesaysnothing.Idropmyheadintomyhands,laughingandfeelingmyownheatedskinonmyface.I’vehadtwoglassesofredwine,andredwinealwaysmakesmycheekspink.Well,thatandthetableroasting.ButIloveit.We’reallsittingonJames’sbackporch,eatinganddrinking.I’mfreeanduntetheredheresurroundedbythesepeople.AlldayI’vefeltlikesinging—somethingIhaven’tfeltlikedoinginalongtime.
Thesunsetanhouragoafterpaintingtheskyinaduskypinkandorangesunset,andnowthewarmstringlightsaroundtheedgesofthescreened-inporchcastathematicglowontheevening.Beyondthisporcharehundredsofacresofvegetablecrops,barns,andgreenhouses.IknowbecauseJamesgavemethefulltour—andalthoughIwouldhaveratherspentthedaywithNoah,IenjoyedeverysecondofmynewfriendshipwithJames.
Istillcan’tbelieveI’mherewiththesepeople.Thesepeoplewholikemeenoughtopokefunatme.ToacknowledgewhenI’mbadatsomething.Toletmefailandenjoythehelloutofitoverandoveragain.
Andthentheotherreasonmycheeksarepinkissittingdownatthefootofthetabletomyright.Noah.Icanhardlythinkofhisnamewithoutbreakingoutinchillbumps.JusthavinghiminthesamevicinityasmeafterthatkisshasmyskinsohotIcouldfrybacononit.IhavebeenstudiouslyavoidingglancingathimtonightbecauseIdon’ttrustmyselftolookinhisevergreeneyesandnotthinkofhishandsonme.Ofhissmile.Ofthefeelofhislaugh.
I’llblurttoeveryonethatIcaughtfeelings,andthenhissisterswillbeupsetbecausewejusttalkedabouthowitwouldbebestifIdidn’tgetromanticallyinvolvedwithhim.ButnowIhaveandallIcanseeisthatstillframeofGregoryPeck’sdowncastfaceattheendofRomanHoliday.IsthatwhatNoahwilllooklikewhenIleave?MaybeI’mbeingpresumptuous.Maybehislifewillkeepmovingandhewon’tmissabeat.Maybeitwasjustakissforhimanditwon’tleavehimwithacompletelygutted,hollowed-outsortoffeelinglikeithasme.
Ifeelhiseyesonmenowandit’sagonynottolookathim.Ineedareasontogetoutfromunderhisgaze,soIsetdownmynowemptywineglassandstand.“James,isthatpianoinyourlivingroominworkingcondition?”Mystomachflutters.Becausethetruthis,I’vebeendyingtoplaypianoallday,eversinceIgotherethismorningandnoticedit.I’malsoalittlenervoustoplayitbecauseitfeelsliketestingoutalegafterremovingacast.WhenIputmyweightonit,willIfeelthatoldsharppainorwillithavehealed?
“Ofcourse,”hesayshappily.
“Great!Whowantstoplayagamewithme?”
Tenminuteslater,we’reallhuddledinJames’slivingroom,laughingourbuttsoff.TheywereskepticalwhenIfirstsuggestedweplayamusicalgame,butoncetheylearnedtherules,everyonewasupforit.
Itgoeslikethis:Onepersonsuggestsagenre(’90spop,grungerock,R&B,etc.),anotherselectsachildren’snurserysong,andthenoneofushastosingitinthechosenstylewhileIplaythepiano.IwasactuallyintroducedtothegamewhenIwasaguestonTheTonightShowStarringJimmyFallon,andthenIenjoyeditsomuchthatit’sbecomemygo-togamewhenI’minthestudiocreatinganewalbumandfeelingblocked.It’sbeenforeversinceI’veplayedit,though.
Surprisingly,everyoneparticipates.Istartedusoffhavingtosing“TwinkleTwinkleLittleStar”inthestyleof’80sfunksongs.Don’ttellanyone,butIplayedthechordsfor“She’saBadMamaJama”andthenreplacedthelyrics.Itworkedalittletoowell.Jameswentnext,completelyshockingmewithhisphenomenalpianoskills,andsang“OhWhere,OhWhereHasMyLittleDogGone?”inabluesstyle.HeandIthentookturnsplayingpianoforeveryoneelsewhenitwastheirturntosing.
We’reaboutanhourintothegame,andthelateritgets,themorefunitbecomes.EvenNoahsings,puttinghiswholeheartintohis’90spoprenditionof“HickoryDickoryDock.”ItseemsIwaswrongaboutNoahinthebeginning.He’samasteroffun,andthemoreIgettoexperiencethesesmallmomentswithhimwherehiseyesarecrinkledinthecornersandhismouthisspreadwideinasmile,theharderIfallforhim.
Everythingaboutthisnightiswonderful.Itfeelstoogoodtoplayandsingjustforthehellofitagain.Itmakesmyfingersitchtocreatesomethingnew.Towearmyvoiceoutandreallypushmyselfwithnewriffsandruns.Ifeelthatlightinsidemethathadbeguntodimburnalittlebrighter.Mymindracestomyupcomingtourandbutterfliesswarmmystomach—feelinganeagernesstogetbackintomusicandperforming.
ButthenIthinkofleavingallthepeopleI’vegrowntoloveinthistown,andmyheartfeelsheavyagain.Iwanttofindawaytomakeitallworkout—butIdon’tknowthatthereisaway.IfIcontinuetovisit—orlet’ssayforthesakeofanargumentthatImoveherepermanentlyafterthetour—eventually,wordwouldgetout,anditwouldtakeawaythetown’sprivacy.Notonlywouldpaparazziswarmhere,butfans,too.Thissweetquietplacecouldgetturnedupsidedown.I’mnotsureIcoulddothattothem.
Suddenlyneedingabreakfromthepianoandattentionofeveryoneintheroom,Istandandstartinthedirectionofthekitchen.OfcourseNoahdoesthesame,andjustlikeourepisodeatthefrontdoorearliertonight,wepausefacingeachother.
“Sorry.”Evenjustthatsinglewordfromhismouthmakesmefeeltingly.
“No,I’msorry.”Istareinthegeneralvicinityofhisbroadchest.“Yougoahead.”
“No,yougofirst.Igotinyourway.”
We’rebeingsopoliteit’sridiculous.Ifwecan’tinteractinthissmallway,howarewegoingtomanagelivingunderthesameroofforanotherweek?We’llhavetotakeshifts.Aspreadsheetandaschedulewillneedtobemade.I’llusedifferentcolorsoftapetomarklanesonthefloorsowemakesuretoneveraccidentallyfallintheother’spathagain.
WhenItellmyselftostopbeingacoward,Ilookup.Theheatinhiseyeswrapsaroundmyheartandsmothersit.HewillhaveaGregoryPeckface,Ithink.Helikesme,too.Thosethickdarkeyelasheswillbecastdown,handsinhispocketswalkingaway,andI’mnotsureIcantakeit.
“Whoa,whoa,whoa!”Madisonripsourattentiontoher.
NoahandIbothswivelourheadsbacktothegroup,chestsstillfacingeachother.Everyoneisfrowningandstaring.Madisonpointsinourdirection,flickingherfingerbackandforthbetweenus.“What’sgoingonhere?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Iwasgoingfornonchalantandnormal.Ithinkitsoundedscripted.
ThesiblingsandJamesexchangelooksaroundthetableandcometoaunanimous,silentconclusion.
“Youguysslepttogether,didn’tyou?”Emilyaskssharply.
NoahandIareimmediatelyaclashofwords.
“No!”Isay,honestly,becausewedidn’t.Haven’t.Won’t!
“Absolutelynot.”Noahhastheaudacitytosoundcommandingandnotatallbumblinglikeme.
“Wewouldnever.”IgivethatlastwordalittletoomuchforceandNoahlooksdownatmewithpinchedbrows.Hiseyessay,Never?
“Whatthehell,y’all?”saysMadison,andthenimmediatelyturnstowardAnnie’sreprimandingexpression.“Thisisnotthetimeforyourdelicatesensibilities,CherubAnnie.”
JamescasuallyshakeshisheadwhileskeweringNoahwithagrin.“Iknewit.Itwasonlyamatteroftime.”
“Stop.”Noahisbacktosternandgrumpy.JusthowIlikehim.“Youknownothing.Wehavenotslepttogether.Notthatit’sanyofy’all’sbusiness.”
I’mtryingnottocombustinflamesofembarrassment.Anditdoesn’thelpmattersthatNoahseemstosomehowdiscernmydiscomfortandmovesevenclosertome.Likehe’sgoingtousehisbodytoshieldmefromtheirknowingeyes.
“Okay,that’sit.Sitdownandexplain,becausewecanalltellthatsomethinghashappened.”Emilysoundsfrighteninglyclosetoamotherrightnow.“Youhaven’tlookedateachotherallnight,barelyspoken,andnowwhateverthatuncomfortablelittleencounterwasistheicingonthecake.Y’alldidsomething.”
“Fessup.”Madisoncrossesherarms,likeamobboss.Sheneedsaleatherjacket.
Annieistheonlyonewhodoesn’tlookconcerned.
NoahandIretakeourseats,lookingasguiltyaskidswithorangepowderstainingtheirfingerssayingtheyneveratetheCheetos.
“Wekissed,”hestatesplainly.
It’saseaofpearlywhitemolarsaseveryone’smouth—includingmine—hangsopen.Ithoughthe’ddenyit.We’dgoonhappilyasifnothingeverhappenedfortherestoftheweekandI’dimplementourcolor-codedlanesandthatwouldbethat.Butno.Hejustdroppedaconversationalgrenadeandsteppedbacktowatchitexplode.
“Youkissed?”Emilydoesnotlookhappy.“That’sworse!”
AlinebetweenNoah’sbrowsdeepens.“Howisthatworse?”
“Idon’tknow,butit’snotbetter.”
“Whydoyoucaresomuch?”Noah’sgazezerosinonEmilywithanintensitythatforoncerevealstheirsiblingdynamic.Emilyisloudandinchargemostofthetime,butNoahistheoldestandtheyalllooktohimforguidanceattheendoftheday.Hecarriessomuchonhisshoulders.
“She’sleaving,Noah.”That’stheonlyexplanationEmilyoffersandIfeelherwordslikelittlejabstomylungs.EmilylooksatJames,clearlyhopingforbackup.Jamesshakeshisheadandlooksdown—notjumpinginlikeshe’dhoped.MadisonlaysherhandonEmily’sforearm,butEmilyripsherarmaway.Thelevityfromourmusicalgamehasdisappearedandtheatmosphereturnsthick.
IwatchasNoah’sentiredemeanorshifts.Hislargeshoulderstipforward,hiseyesarepillows,hissmileiscalming.HeputshishandonEmily’sknee.“Em,I’mnotleavingagain.AndIpromisethatifIeverdo,you’llgetplentyofwarning.NotlikeIdidlasttime.”
Anentireconversationpassesbetweenthesetwointhequietmomentsafterhiswords.Emilyrelents,softeningandnoddingherhead.I’mnotsurewhatthatwasabout,buttheheavinessintheairtellsmeitwasimportant.Shelookslikeawomanslowlysobering.Embarrassmentwashesoverherface.
Shebowsoutoftheargumentgracefullybyslippingfromthelivingroomandreturningwithacold,rock-hardpancakeonaplate.Shesitsdown,balancingtheplateonherlap,andshovelsabiteontoherfork.Ithinkthisisherwayofapologizingtome.
“Youdon’thavetodothat.Really,we’regood,”Isaymeaningfully,becauseIwouldn’tforcethesepancakesonmyworstenemy.
Sheraisestheforktohermouthanyway,andweallwatchinsilenceasshetakesabite.Shechews.Andchews.Andchews.Andthenfinallyshiversitdownandnodsbeforechuggingherbeer.ShethennodsfirmlyatmeandIsmileinreturn.Thatwasmorethananapology,thatwasapledgeofherlife.
Achucklerunsthroughtheroom,andafterawhiletheconversationhumsbacktowardnormalcy.Thesiblingstalkthroughtheirschedulesforthenextweek—determiningwhichdaystheywilleachvisittheirgrandma.WealljokeandcusstoomuchwhileAnniekeepsaddingtalliesbesideallournamessoweknowhowmuchmoneytopayoutattheendofthenight.Shedidn’taskmeifshecouldaddmetothelist,shejustdid.Icaughtaglanceatherlittlenotebookearlierandthereitwas.Amelia.Rightnexttotherestofthegroupandmyheartburstlikeconfetti.
NowEmilystands,collectstheemptybeerbottlesandplatesaroundtheroom.Thegroupbeginstobreakup,murmuringabouthowtiredtheyareandblahblahblah.Idon’tcarehowtiredtheyare,theycan’tleaveus.
“Wait!”I’mfranticallygrabbingholdofAnnie’sshirttokeepherfromgettingaway.“Youguyscan’tleaveyet.It’searly!”
“It’safterten.”Madisonissuddenlythetimekeeperapparently.
“LikeIsaid,early.Stay.Let’sallplayanothergame.Monopolyorsomething.”
Jameslaughs.“Thehellwewill.Monopolywouldtakeallnight.Someofushavetobeupwiththecowsinthemorning.Y’allbettergetoutofmyhousenow.”
“Don’tworry,”Annietellsmeinhersweetsoutherndrawl.“We’llhaveanothergroupdinnerbeforeyouleavetown.”She’scompletelymisconstruingmyreasonsforwantingthemtostay.
I’mlosing.They’reallscatteringacrosstheroomlikemarblesnow,andjustNoahandIareleftseated.Imakeeyecontactwithhim,whichisamistake.Hisgrintwists—thesameuneaseI’mfeelingsweepingoverhisexpression.We’rebothterrifiedtogohomeandbealonetogether.Bothunconvincedtheotherhasenoughwillpowertostayaway.Chapter31Amelia
It’swellaftermidnightnowbutI’mstillwideawakestaringattheceiling.NoahandIdidn’tsayawordtoeachotherwhenwegothome.Heunlockedthedoor,flippedonthelights,andIscurriedofftomyroomlikeamouseescapingwithcheese.Noahmadenoattemptstostopme,soIfeellikeitwastherightdecision.
TokeepmymindfromracingdownthepathofWhatifwejust,IholdtheimageofGregoryPeckinmymind.Butafterawhile,IbegintoresentthatfaceandsoIuseanimaginarymarkeranddrawalittlemustacheacrosshislip.Gregory’sfacethentransformsintoNoah’sandhe’ssmilingbecauseNoahwouldmostdefinitelyfindthatfakemustachefunny.Hemightonlyshowitinthatusual,quiet,inconspicuouswayofhis,buthewouldsmileforsure.Andthenhe’drollhiseyesandmakemepancakes.
Sadnessleaksintomyheartbecausemorethananything,IwanttoexplorethisrelationshipwithNoah.Iwanttofollowmyimpulses.Myheartsays,Thiscouldbegood.Verygood.Butmymindreplaysallthevalidreasonswecan’t.WhyNoahdoesn’twantit.
I’mfeelingaboutascheeryasaSnickersbarrunoverbyatruckon100-degreepavement.Normally,whenI’minthissadstateofbeing,IwouldgetupandturnonanAudreyfilm.Shewouldwrapmeupinhercomfortablefamiliarity,andbytheend,I’dbefeelingmorehopeful.Buttonight,Idon’t,becausetheonlymovieIbroughtwithmeonthistripisRomanHoliday.ForobviousreasonsIdon’tfeellikewatchingthatonerightnow.Maybeneveragain.I’mmadatAudrey.AndI’mmadatmyselfforfollowinginhershoesandcominghereinthefirstplace,andmeetingNoahandhissurlyeyes,andhisoverlywonderfultown,andhiskindhearted,quirkysisters.
Ikickthecoversinaminitantrum.AndthenIkickthemmore.Andagain.Thistime,IaddalittlebodyswirlwhereIcompletelydisruptallmycoversatonce.Itfeelssogoodtoletmyselfbeangry.IfistmyhandsandpoundthemintothemattressnowbecauseI’mreallygettingthehangoflosingmycontrolandIdon’twanttostopnow.IaddinaquietlittlepiggysquealasIdigmyheelsintothemessofsheetsandcomforters,becauseIAMMAD.
Mad,mad,mad.
I’mmadthatmycarwillbefixedandI’llbeleavinghereinaweek.I’mmadthatIdon’twanttogiveupmycareer.I’mmadthatI’llgohometoloneliness.I’mmadthatmymomisnotmyfriendanymore,andthatmydadneverwantedtoknowme.I’mmadthatovertheyears,I’veletmyselfturnintoapeople-pleasingrobotwho’safraidofupsettinganyone.AndI’mmadthathere,inthistown,inthishouse,inthisbed,isthefirsttimeinyearsI’vebeenabletounleashmyfeelingsandjustbemewithoutfearofrepercussions.
Butmostofall,I’mmadthatI’vefalleninlovewithNoah,andI’llnevergettohavealifewithhim.
Asiftheearthisangrywithme,aloudpealofthundershakesthehouse.Iwanttocheerandfistpumptheairbecauseitfeelssogoodtojustbepissedforaminute.Whatsoundslikeadelugestartsdumpingoverthehouseandthewindpicksup.IthinkImustbethenextMarvelvillainbecauseclearlymyattitudesummonedthis.Iwanttostandonthebedandholdmyarmsoutandletthestormtakeme.Cackleloudlywithmyfingersflexed.
Instead,Isob.
It’sthekindofcryyouholdoffaslongasyoucan,pretendingyoudon’tseetheneedforiteventhoughit’sglaringyourightintheface.Andthenoneday,youremotionsbreak,andangerdissolvesintofrustratedtearsthatwon’tquituntilyourpillowissoakedthrough.There’snothingforit—nomagicalanswerorearth-shatteringconclusiontobefound.AllIcandoiswrapmyarmsaroundmyabdomenandletmybodyriditselfofallthispainuntilitdoesn’thurtsomuch.
IhearaknockonmydoorandIsitupwithpuffyeyesandtearstainedcheeks.“Noah?”
Mydooropensandtherehestandsinthedark.Myhearthammerswildlyinmychest,andwhenasuddenboltoflightningstrikes,fillingtheroomwithbrightlightforonlyasplitsecond,Iseetheagonyonhisface.Thisisn’tanighttimebootycall.Somethingiswrong.Iwipeundermyeyeswiththebackofmyhand.
Wordlessly,hewalksovertothesideofmybedandwhenhelooksoverthemessofsheetsandcomforter,Ifeelatwingeofembarrassment.“Iwasthrowingatantrum,”Isayhonestly,becausethat’sallIcanbewithNoah.
Henods,thatpainfulscowlstilletchedbetweenhisbrows.Hiseyesmovetome,andinstinctively,Ireachoutandtakehishand.Thehemofhislong-sleevepjshirtbrushesagainstmyknuckles.He’sinmyroom,inthemiddleofthenight,inhisfavoritepajamas.Thisisleveltenvulnerableforhim.HenoticesthatI’vebeencrying,buthedoesn’taskmewhat’swrong.Ithinkhealreadyknows.Instead,hebrusheshisthumbacrossmycheekbone,catchinganothertear.
“CanIsleepwithyoutonight?Just…sleep.”Andthewayhesaysitmakesmeknowhemeansit.
There’snotasinglepartofmethathesitates.“Yes.”
Noahuntanglesmysheetsandcomforter,smoothsthemoutoverthebedbeforeliftingacornerandslidingin.Themattressdipswithhisweight,andthatsmallactionshouldn’tmakemeneedtoswallow,butIdo.
Oncehe’sunderthecovers,bothofourheadslyingonourpillows,westareattheceiling.Anotherflashoflightningilluminatestheroomandthewindbeatsthewindow.Itsoundsextreme.Noahrollsontohissidetofaceme,drapesanarmovermyabdomen,andpullsmeclosetohimsomybackispressedagainsthischest.It’satighthold.Likeonesomeonewoulduseifthey’vebeenoutfloatingintheoceanneardeathandmiraculouslyfindaflotationdevice.
Awarmachesettleslowinmystomach.Hisbodyissostrongandsolidagainstme.Hesmellscrispandcoolandclean.AndIcanfeelhisbreathagainstthesideofmyneck,blowingthetinyhairsaroundandmakingmedizzy.
Ifeelhimtakeinadeepbreath.“I…don’tlikestorms.”HepausesandIwonderifhethinksI’lllaugh.Iwillfightanyonewhoeverdareslaughatthisman.“I’mterrified,actually.”Hesoundsshaken,soIwrapmyhandaroundhisforearmthat’sholdingmesosnuglytohim.
“Weall…Well,aftermyparentsdied,Ihaven’tbeenabletosleepthroughastormagain.Iusuallyjuststayupandpaceuntilit’sover.SometimesIobsessivelycheckthenews.Icalleachofmysisterswhenit’soverjusttomakesurethey’reokay.It’sprobablyaridiculousreactionsinceIwasn’teventherewhenithappenedtomyparents.”
Anotherpause,andIwait.
“Mysistersdon’tseemtobeasscaredofstormsasIam,buttheyeachhavetheirownthings,too.Likeearliertonight,Emily’sfreak-outwasn’tactuallyaboutyou.Itwasbecauseshe’safraidofabandonmentinabigway.AndthelasttimeIwasinarelationship,IpackedupandleftforNewYorkwithoutgivinganyonemuchnotice,andIdidn’tcomebackforayear.She’safraidthatwillhappenagain,andI’mafraidwitheachandeverystormthatit’lltakesomeoneIloveagain.”
Wordsfeelinadequate.Thatwassopersonalitfeltlikebloodspill.IwanttofindawaytoconveyhowmuchIhurtwithhim.ButIcan’t,soIjusttakehishandandraiseittomylipswhereIkisshispalm.Ifeelhischestmovewithasofthum,andwhenmylipsreleasefromhishand,hepullsmeincloseagain.Ineverwanttonotbesurroundedbyhisbody.Wefitperfectlytogetherandit’snotjustbecauseourpajamasmostlikelycameinaset.
Lightningstrikesagain,andloudthundershakesthehouse.
“Distractme,”Noahpleads,andIcanfeelhowfasthisheartisracing.“Saysomething.”
Hedoesn’thavetoholdmeastightlyasheis,Iwouldcozyuptohimevenifhedidn’t.Hemightnotrealizeit,butthere’snogettingridofmenow.Irunmyfingersupanddownhisarm,feelingthefinehairsticklemyfingertips.I’mnotsureI’veeverfeltthiscomfortablewithsomeonebefore.
“Yoursistersalreadyknow,butI’mobsessedwithAudreyHepburn.”Iblurtmytruth,notevensurewhyI’mnervoustotellhim.ButIam.Myconfessionisafingerprickcomparedtohisopenheartsurgery.
“Theactress?”heasks,andI’mrelievedheknowswhosheis,unlikehissisters.
“Yeah.Theactress.”Thunderrumblesaroundusandthewallstremblefromit.Noah’sholddoesn’tloosen.“MymomandIusedtowatchhermoviestogether.Itwasourthing.ButthenafterIbecamefamous,wedriftedapart,andnowIfeelsodistantfromherthatIdon’tknowwheretoevenbegintogetthatrelationshipback.”IpauseamomentwhenIrealizethatfindingawaybacktomymomissomethingIdowanttopursue.Ijustdon’tknowhow.“Anyway,IcontinuedtoturntoAudreyHepburnmovieswhenIneededahugorguidance.That’swhyI’mhereinthistownwithyou,actually.”ItsoundsevenmorerecklessthanIthoughtwhenIsayitoutloud.“Iplayedeenie-meenie-miney-mowitheachofhermovies,landedonRomanHoliday,andtookitasasignthatIwassupposedtoescapetoRomejustlikeAudrey’scharacterdidbecauseIwasfeelingscaredanddesperate.ButsinceItalywastoofartodrive…”
“Youcamehere.”
“Right.ExceptIwasn’tsupposedtofindyouhere…andnow,you’reGregoryPeckanddon’tevenrealizeit.”
NoahkissesmyheadlikeIdidn’tjustspeakgibberishtohim.“IlikeGregoryPeck.He’saclassyguy.”
“Youwouldcareaboutthat.”Itwistaroundandstareatthebuttonsonhisshirt.I’mdangerouslyclosetosobbingagain,soIdistractmyselfbycountinghisbuttons.
Herunshispalmovermycheekboneandhisfingerssplayintomyhair.“I’vebeenlyingtoyou.”
Ipausemycountingonbuttonnumberfive.“AreyouHillbilly-Joe-serial-killerafterall?”
“Youreallydohavealotofnicknamesforme,don’tyou?”
“MorethanI’veeventoldyou.”
Herunshishandthroughthelengthofmyhair,andthenrepeats.“Idowantsomethingromanticwithyou.IhavesinceIfirstlaideyesonyou.Andyou’renottheonlyonewhohasdevelopedfeelings.”Myheartstops.“ButI’mstillnotreadyforarelationship.Idon’tseehowitwouldworkwhenIcan’tleavemyfamilyrightnowuntilmygrandma…well,anyway,Ican’tleave.Andyoucan’tstay.”
“Whatabout—”
HeknowswhatI’mabouttosay.Noahcutsmeoffgently,hishandcradlingmyjawlikehewantstosoftentheblowofhisownwords.“Ican’tdolongdistance,Amelia.”Ihatehowfinalhisvoicesoundsonthematter.Likehe’salreadycontemplateditahundredtimesandcouldneverfindasuitablesolution.“WhenIhadtomovehomeformygrandmaandMerrittwouldn’tcomewithme,ItoldherI’dcomebacktothecityafterIgoteverythingsituatedathome.ButafterIwashereaboutamonth,Igotatextfromherthatsheobviouslymeanttosendtotheguyfromherofficeshehadapparentlybeencheatingonmewithforseveralmonths.Itwasanincriminatingtexttosaytheleast,andI’vehadmajortrustissuessincethen.Idon’tthinkanotherlong-distancerelationshipisthebestwaytogetbackintodating.”
Thereisapartofmethatwantstobegandplead.IwillspendtheentirenightconvincinghimwithaPowerPointpresentationthatIwouldabsolutelynevercheatonhim.Butintheend,Istayquiet,becauseIdon’twanttoforce,persuade,ormanipulateNoahintoanythinghe’snotcomfortablewith.He’sbeenthroughenoughhurt—andIdon’tblamehimforwantingtoavoidanypossibilityofitagain.
Besides,I’mnotcompletelyconvincedthathewouldn’tbebetteroffwitharegularwomanwhocouldputdownrootsrighthere.She’dworkatThePieShopwithhim.They’dplantavegetablegarden.She’dprobablylovefishing,too.Andmostofall,shewouldn’thavetotravelaroundtheworldforthenextninemonths.NoahdeservesasecurehappilyeverafterandIhaven’tknownhimlongenoughtobesureIcouldgivethattohim.It’salottohavetogambleonrightawaywhensomeone’sheartisonthetable.
“Ifthingsweredifferent…”hebegins.“Ifyouweren’tacelebrity,andIdidn’thave…”
“It’sokay,Noah.Iunderstand.Ireallydo.”Ifinishcountinghisbuttonsbecausetearsareanimminentthreat.“Youhaveeight,bytheway.Eightbuttons.”
Hisfingerscontinuetotraillanguidlyovermyfaceandhairandneckandarmandbackupagain.HetouchesmelikeI’mprecioustohim.Itmakesmeacheallthemore.
“Distractme.”I’mtheonetoaskthistime.
Hisfingerspausemomentarilybeforetheycontinuetheirrepeatingpattern.“Icheatedonabiologytestinhighschool.Jamesletmeseehispaper.”Thisonemakesmelaugh.Hedoes,too,afterblowingoutadramaticbreathofair.“It’sgoodtogetthatoffmychest.”
Icurlupintoalittleballatthefrontofhisbody.“Iaccidentallykilledmygoldfish,”Isay,makingNoahchuckle,fullandrumbly.Isoftlypinchhisarm.“Don’tlaugh!Ifeelterribleaboutit.Ileftformylasttourandcompletelyforgottoarrangeforanyonetocomefeedit.WhenIcamehome,itwasfloatingbelly-up.Stillhauntsme.”
“Remindmetoneverletyouownadog.”Noah’shandslidesdowntosettleagainstmylowerback.Heholdsmecloseandhisfacetipsforwardsohecanwhisperhisnextconfessionagainstmyear.“Iloveyourvoice.”
Love.Oof.Thatwordtakesonalifeofitsownandbeatsbetweenus.Iknowwehaven’tknowneachotherlong,andsomehowithurtsthatwe’llnevergetthechance,becauseIthinkI’vefalleninlovewithNoah.
“Butnotenoughtoownanyofmyalbumsapparently,”Itease,desperatelyneedingtolightentheairbetweenus.
“It’sbetterthatway.Imaginehowcreepedoutyou’dbeifyou’dturnedontheCDinmytruckandithadbeenoneofyours.”
“Iwouldhavebeenflattered.”
“Liar.”
Inuzzlemyfaceagainsthiswarmneckshamelessly.BecausesomehowIknowthatinthisdarkness,allbetsareoff.IcanbeasnutsasIwant.IcouldsnorthisskinifIwantedandhewouldsmile.“You’retheonlymanIwouldn’tmindbeingobsessedwithme.”
“Sorry,”hesays,andheletsthatworddangleamoment.“Ireservemyobsessionsforflowers,Pop-Tart.”
IactuallylikePop-Tarts,hehadsaidthatdayinThePieShop.
Andthereitgoes.Myheartgrabsholdofaswarmofballoonsandleavestheearth.Offtofindheavenitgoes.Thunderboomsagain,butthistime,Noahdoesn’tseemtonotice.He’senamoredwithmyhairandthecurveofmyear.
“Amelia…”hesaysinthisrawwaythatletsmeknowhisheadisinexactlythesameplaceasmine.Itkeepsdivingbackintowhatifandhuntingaroundforoptionsthatdon’texist.“Iwanttoletithappensobadly—butIdon’tthinkI’mthekindofguywhowilleverbeokaywithyoubeinggoneforninemonthsatatime.”
Ialmosttellhimitwouldbemorelikethreemonthsatatime,becauseI’llhavesmallbreakshereandthere.Icouldusethosebreakstocomehere,andI’dflyhimouttovisitmeontourinbetween.ButIdon’tthinkitwouldmatter.“Noah,youdon’thavetokeepexplainingittome.Ireallydounderstandandseewhereyou’recomingfrom.It’sdifficulttodateacelebrity,andthat’shonestlywhyrelationshipsdon’tlastlonginmycircles.Igetit.AndIwouldn’twanttoputyouinthatposition.”
Helaughsbutitsoundsmoreself-deprecatingthanhumorous.“Thiswouldbealoteasierifyouwerejustalittleselfishandannoying.Couldyoubemoreterriblefromnowon?”
“I’lltry.”Atearthat’sbeenclingingtomylashesslipsdownmycheek.Thisfeelsmorepainfulthanitshould.Itreallysuckstobematureanddecideallthisontheprecipiceofsomethinginsteadoftheend.WhydidIhavetofallforsomeonewhoseworldisonacompletelydifferentaxisthanmine?
“Sowhatdowedonow?”Iask,ashissoftcottonshirtcaressesmycheekandabsorbsthetearsIreallywishIwasn’tcrying.
“Idon’tknow,”hesayshonestly,hisfingersstillidlyplayingwithmyhair.Twistingitaroundhisfingers.Lettingitdropandthentwistingitalloveragainlikehe’sfinallygettingtodothethinghe’swantedfordays.“WhathappensattheendofRomanHoliday?”
GregoryPeck’sfacesurfacesonceagaininmymind.“Audrey—PrincessAnn—leavesandgoesbacktoherlife.AndGregoryPeck—JoeBradley—staysinhis.”
Hisfingerspressintomyback.It’snotahopefulpress.It’sadesperateone.“Whataboutbeforethat?”
Ilaughsadly,thinkingofAudreyandGregoryeatingicecream,ridingamoped,touringRome.“Theyhavefuntogether.”
Noahpresseshislipstomyforehead,lingeringthereforafullin-and-outbreathbeforepullingaway.“Whatifwedo,too?Isthattooselfish?WhatifIsuggestedwejustdropallourrulesand…”
“Acceptthetimewehavetogether?Itcouldworkifwemanageexpectationsfromthestart.”Ifinishhisthought—hopingalittletoohardthatthat’swhathewasgoingtosuggest.Becauseifthere’sanoptionwhereIhangontoNoahfordearlifewhileIcan—selfishlysoakupeverymemorywithhimthatisavailabletome—Iwill.IhaveafeelingthatatemporaryflingwithNoahwouldbebetterthananentireyearwithanotherman.
Hesighsafterathoughtfulpause.“Yeah.Isthataterribleidea?”Buthisfingersarealreadytracingmycollarbone.Histouchisdazzling.
“Mostdefinitely.”I’mstrugglingtobreathe.“Andverydramatic.ButI’mupforitifyouare.”
Hetiltsforward,lipspressingintothattenderspotonmyneck,justundermyear.“Mm-hmm.Ilovedrama.YoucancallmeMr.Dramafromnowon.”
Ilaughandnudgehimbacksohisshouldersareflatonthemattress.AndthenIclimboverhim,placingmykneesoneithersideofhiships,feeling(asdotheRegencyheroinesinmyfavoriteromancebooksthatNoahdoesn’townasingleoneof)verywanton.“Don’tintrudeonmynicknames.I’minchargeofthose.AndMr.Classicfitsyoutoowell.Justlookatyoulyinghereallbuttonedupinyourcottonpa-ja-mas.”Myfingersbouncelikeaskippingrockovereachbutton.
Icanbarelyseehiminthedark,butIcansensehissmile.Hishandslightlygripmyouterthighs.“Theycomeasapair.Youdon’tliketheshirt?”
“Ilikewhat’sunderitbetter.CanI?”Iask,myhandshoveringatthetopofhiscollar.Myfingerstremble,givingawaythatI’mfeelingsomeseriousnervesunderthiscoolandcollectedfacade.
“Goahead.”
Greenlight.
MyheartbeatspainfullyasIpopopenthefirstbutton.Itracethatwarmsliverofskinathischestandmyfingercomesawayburnedfromhisheat.WitheachbuttonIundo,nervestwistmygutandpumpintomyheart.Mypulseisajackhammer.IfumblewiththefourthbuttonandIthinkitgetssnaggedonathreadbecauseitwon’trelease.Iyankitalittle.Inhaleandexhaleinarush.Tugalittlemoreandit’snotbudging.Mymovementsaresharpandclunky.
Noah’shandcoversminewithachuckle.“You’reshaking.”
“Yes,andit’sungentlemanlyofyoutopointitout.”Myvoicesoundsembarrassinglybreathless.
“Isthistoomuch?Youwanttostop?”He’scocooningmyhands.Won’tletthemgo—notthatI’mtryingtofreethem.
“No,Idon’twanttostop.It’sthat…”Iletoutalittlewhimperandslumpover,restingmyforeheadagainsthisbroadchest.“There’sbeencertainexpectationsformeinthepast.BecauseI’m…acelebrityandallthat,guyshavethoughtIwouldbeacertainwayinbedandthenseemdisappointedwhenI’mnot.”Iwincefeelingmajorembarrassmentslidearoundme.“Idon’tknow.SometimesIgetinmyownheadaboutit.”
NoahmakesahumofunderstandingsodeepthatIfeelitreverberatefromhischestthroughmyskull.Henudgesmeuprightagainandthenruthlesslyripsthethreadthatissnagginghisbuttonbeforefinishingtherestforme.Hesitsup,sowe’rechesttochestwithmylegswrappedaroundhim,andheshrugsoutofhisshirt.Ah—skin.Noah’sskin.It’sperfectundermyfingertips.
HecupsmyjawandIcanfeeltheintensityofhiseyes.IthinkNoahcanseerightthroughtomybones.“Tome,you’reAmelia.Makerofshittypancakesandasmilethatrivalsthesun.AllIwantisyou.”Andjustlikethat,Ifeelsafe.
Igivehismouthonesoftkissbeforepullingback.Itracemyhandsoverhiswideshouldersandbiceps,histautchestandthenhislips.Isweepmyfingersuptofeelthelineswherehe’snowgrinning.Iwillmemorizehimifit’sthelastthingIdo.Iwillcarrythefeelofhissmileinmypocketfortherestofmylife.
Inonefluidmotion,Noahflipsusoversohe’spinningmein.Theweightofhimagainstmeisearth-shattering.Euphoria.Delight.I’mfinallyanchoredafterdriftingfortoolong,andinsomecornerofmymindIrealizethathishandsaretheonlyonesIwantagainstmybodyfortherestofmylife.
Noah’slipscaressmineslowly,givingmerichkisses,sparklingwithpleasure.Hisbroadpalmssmoothandkneadovereveryinchofmybodywithquietconfidenceuntilmypulseislanguidagainandmylimbsaremelted.HewhispersthingsagainstmyskinandIfeelcoddledandheldandlikeI’mabsolutelydarlingtohim.Iwantthisforever,Ithink.
Outside,thestormcontinuestorage,butneitherofusnotice.Fortherestofthenight,we’relosttogetherasNoahprovesthatIamallhewants.Chapter32Noah
“Areyouready?”IaskAmeliaaswebothroundthetruckandstandshouldertoshoulder,facingthetown.Sheiswearingtightcheckeredcapristodaywithawhitetanktoptuckedin(whichIwasluckyenoughtowatchherslipintoearlierthismorning).Herlongbraidhangsoverthefrontofhershoulder,andthefabricofhershirtfitshersmoothcurveslikeasecondskin.Ihavetotuckmyhandsintomypocketstokeepfromslidingthemalloverherouthereinbroaddaylight.
“ShouldIbeworriedorsomething?”Thetoneofhervoice,pairedwiththeskepticallookinhereyes,tellsmeshethinksthistownisinnocentandharmless.Sonaive.
Itiltherchinuptolookawayfromthetownandatmeinstead.Shehasfaintcharcoal-coloredshadowsunderhereyesthatmakemesmile,becauseIhelpedputthemthere.ButIcan’tthinkaboutlastnightagain.IalreadyhavetoomuchresidualdesireI’mtryingtostuffbackdown.Thismorningafterashower(together,nudgenudgewinkwink)webothdrankourcoffeesontheporchwhilereadingourseparatebooksuntilitwastimetocomeintowork.Ofcourseshetriedtogetmetoreadtoheraloudfrommine,butIrefusedbecauseit’stoomuchfunwatchingAmeliapout.AlsoI’vewaveredonallmyotherresolutionsconcerningher,andIwanttokeepatleastoneofthem.
“Neverunderestimatethistown’spowertosensegossip.”
Hereyeswiden.“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“Itmeans,theyareallgoingtobewaitingforus.They’llfeelthatthereissomethingnewbetweenus.”
Shestaresatmewithnothingbutsheeramusementnow.She’ssureI’mblowingthisoutofproportion.“Ithinkyouneedtogetoutofthistownmore.”ShetapsthesidebrimofthebaseballhatI’mwearing.“It’sgettingtoyourhead.”
Icatchherfingerwithmineandlowerittomyside,beforeshiftingsoIcanlacemyfingerswithhers.Idon’tthinkitshouldfeelasincredibleasitdoes.I’veneverfeltthiswithanyonebefore.I’veneverwantedtoholdawoman’shandjustforthehellofit.Ididn’trealizeIwasanaffectionatekindofguyuntilImetAmeliaandnowallIwanttodoisholdherandsnuggleherandkissherandtouchher.Ialmostdon’trecognizemyself.
“Maybeyou’reright.”Thisridiculoustownseemslikeacomfortableexcusetoblameforalotofthings.“Nowwipethatsunshinesmileoffyourfaceandlookalittlelessapproachable,”Isayaswestartwalkingtowardthehardwarestore.
“Likethis?”Hersmiledropsintoaclown’sfrown.It’ssooverthetopshelooksterrifying.
“Perfect.”
Asweapproachthehardwareshop,PhilandToddareoutsidejustasexpected.Oneissweeping,andtheotheriswritingonthechalksignhammers50%off!
“Looksprettyharmlesstome,”Ameliasayswithasassylilttohervoice.Ismirkandwecontinuewalking.
PhillooksupfromhistaskofsweepingandhiseyesshiftdowntoAmelia’sandmyintertwinedhands.Hepracticallysparkleswithexcitement.“Well,goodmorning,youtwo.Finedaywe’rehaving,isn’tit?”
“Justdandy,”Isaysarcastically,pickingupourpace.
“Easy,”Ameliawarnsmeinawhisper.“Ididn’tweartherightshoestorunamarathontoday.”I’llpickherupandcarryherovermyshoulderifIhaveto.Sheseesmecontemplatingitasmygazesweepsoverherheadtotoeandsheadds,“Don’teventhinkaboutit.”
Philistryingtoformabarrierwithhisbodysowecan’tgetby.“Ahyes.Dandyisthewordforit.Thesun…it’s…”Thecloserweget,themorefranticPhil’sconversationbecomes.Andthen,justbeforewepasshim,themantakeshisbroomandholdsitoutlikeagate.“Whoa,holdyourhorsesthere,youngins.Let’stalkalittle.Shootthebreeze!What’snew?”
Ameliafillshernaivelungsfullofgossip-producingairthatwillmakemylifealivinghell,soIspeakbeforeshecan.“Thinkingofaddinganewpietothemenu.”
It’sclearbythelookonPhil’sfacethatthisisnottheinformationhewasafter,buthe’snotdisinterested.Heliftsabushybrow.“Oh?What’sitgonnabe?”
“It’llhaveahoneybase.I’llcallitMindYourOwnDamnBeeswax.”Ameliastiflesalaughinherthroataftermystoicdelivery.Phil’sfacedropsintosomethingreprimanding.Iliftthebroomstickhandlelikeit’sacarriagedoorandgestureforAmeliatowalkunderbeforeme.
“But…but…”BehindusPhilissputtering,tryingtostallus.“Wait!Haveyouseenthebigsalewe’rehaving?Tellhim,Todd!”
PoorTodd.Hisvoiceshakesalittle.“Right!There’sasale.Abigone.Onhammers!”
Amelialooksupatme,herroundpuppyeyestellingmeshe’swavering.“Ihavetogoandbuyahammer.Ihaveto,Noah.Justlistentothem.”
Itightenmyholdonherhand.“Staystrong.Thisistheleastofit.”
Shesetsherchinforwardandkeepswalking,butshe’snothappyaboutit.Rightbeforewemakeittothenextstore,Itakeasharpturnandsteerusacrossthestreet.
“Whatarewedoingnow?”sheasks,slightlyoutofbreath.Theurgetocarryhersurfacesagain.
“AvoidingHarriet.”
“Why?”
“Becauseshe’sscary,that’swhy,andshe’llgoonandonaboutyourpond.”
“Myp—Nevermind.Idon’twanttoknow.”
“Forthebest,”Isayaswepassunderanothershopawning.Thedoorbehindusopens,thecheerybellchiming.“Shit,”Imumble.“Walkfaster.”
“NOAH!”Ohman.That’sGemma.
Amelia’sheadtiltsinpreparationforlookingbehindher,butIstepclosertoher,meshingourshoulderstogethersoshecan’t.“Don’tlookback.She’lltrapyouwithhereyes.”
Gemmaraiseshervoice.“NOAHWALKERIKNOWYOUHEARME!”
“Whoisthat?”Ameliawhispers.
“Gemma.”
Ameliaexpelsabreath.“There’ssomanybusybodiesinthistownit’sgettingdifficulttokeepthemallstraight.”
“Sheownsthequiltingshop.She’sincahootswithHarriet,though,soyoucan’ttrusther.”
“Noah,youcan’tjustignoreher.That’srude.”
“I’llsendherafreepielater.She’llgetoverit.”
Ameliatucksherarminmineaswecrossthestreetagaintogettotheshop.“Suchasurlygrump.”Shesaysitsweetlywithalittlenuzzleofherfaceagainstmyouterarm.
Ipullouttheshopkeyandunlockthedoor,goingaboutmymorningbusinessasusual.Iflickonthelights.Pullthebarstoolsoffthetable.Headintothebacktoturnontheovens.AndthenwhenIrealizeAmeliaisn’twithmeanymore,Ilooktothefrontoftheshopandfindherstandinginthemiddleoftheroom,lookingcompletelyshaken.HereyesarealittledazedandIcanfeeltheemotionsswarmingaroundher.
“Amelia?”Iaskcautiously.
“Idon’twanttogoback,”shesays,hereyessnappingtome.“I’mgoingtoliveherenow.Nomorecelebritylifeforme.Cancelthetour.I’mdonewithmusic.”Chapter33Amelia
Noahapproachesmeuntilwe’reanarm’slengthapart.Hestopsandcrosseshisarms,shouldersstretchingthefabricofhisT-shirtandlookingassternasarock.SurlyPose.
Truthis,Idon’tintendtoquitandheknowsit.Ican’tcancelthetourevenifIwantedto.Contractshavemeboundattheankles.ButIamfeeling.FeelingsomuchandsostronglyabouteverythingthatIcan’tquitehandleit.IlovebeingherewithNoah.Ilovewalkingthroughthistownandfeelingtheheartbeatofitspersonality.Ican’tbelieveIhavetoleaveit.AndbecauseIcan’tfallintotearsrightnow,andthere’snothingIcandoaboutmyquicklyapproachingreallife,IhavetofightwithNoah.BecauseIknowhe’llletme,andit’llhelp.
Hiseyesnarrowlightlyashescansmysoul.“Sayitagain,”hesaysinasteelytonethathasshiversrunningovermyskin.“Ineedtowatchyourfaceasyousayit.”
ItakeamomenttosummonmybestlyingskillssoIcanpassthistest.IneedhimtothinkI’mserious.Fightwithme,Noah.Distractmefromthesefeelings.Itiltmychinup.“Isaid,I’mquittingmusic.”Unfortunately,Ithinkthelastwordrattedmeout.Myvoiceshook.Also,itprobablydoesn’thelpthatthismorningasIlayinbedwithNoah,IsangtohimthefewversesI’vebeenworkingonthelastfewdaysandtoldhimhowexcitedIwasaboutthem.
SomethingsparksinNoah’sgreeneyes.HeknowsI’malittleliarnowbecausehe’scometorecognizemytells.
“Youcan’tquit.Iwon’tallowit,”hesayssharply—argumentatively—andhe’sontomygamebutisputtingafreshspinonit.Ahotspin,judgingbythewaythecornerofhismoodymouthtwitcheseversoslightly.Youwanttoplay,I’llplay,sayshisgrumpy-handsomeface.
“IcanifIwant.”I’mdefiantasItakeasteptowardhim.WithanyoneelseI’mgraceandpoise—I’mAudrey.Polite,polite,polite.ButwithNoah,Ispeakmymind.I’mnotafraidtolooksilly.Tofightandargueandgetmessy.IcastanexplorativeglancearoundThePieShop.“Infact,IthinkI’lljustworkhere…withyou.”
“I’mnothiring.”Hepauses.“Besides,I’veseenyourbakingskills.”
“That’sonlybecauseyourefusetoteachme.Icanlearn,though.”
Noahstepsforward,thegapbetweenusslowlydisappearingandsearingheatcracklingbetweenus.“No.Iwon’tletyouworkhere.”
“Ha!”Iraisemychin.“I’mRaeRose.I’vebuiltamusicalempireandacultfollowingthatwouldrisktheirlivesifIaskedthemto.I’dliketoseeyoutrytostopmefromdoinganything.”IwishIwasactuallythisconfident.
“Ifyouquit,Iwon’ttalktoyouagain.”
Thismakesmesmile.“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Youthinkyoucanholdout?”
Hegruntsanaffirmativeresponse,buthisactionsaretellingadifferentstory.Hishandsaresomehowonmywaistandhe’sbeenslowlybackingmeupuntilI’mcloseenoughforhimtoliftmeupontothecounter.Memoriesoflastnightdashthroughmymindandmypulsesledgehammersagainstmyribs.
“Easy.”He’scockywiththathatcastingadarkshadowoverhiseyes.Broodingandcommanding.Iripitoff—splashinghisfaceinlightandthenrunningmyhandthroughhismessyhair.It’stossedandperfect.Onthebrinkofneedingahaircut,butnotquitethereyet.
“Solet’sjustsayIquitandI’mlivinghere.I’matyoursisters’housemakingpancakeswhileyou’reoverthere.Youseemereachforthesaltinsteadofthesugarandraiseitoverthemixingbowl.Youstilldon’tsayanythingtome?”
Hismouthtiltssardonically.Amateurhour,hiseyessay.“Idon’teatyourpancakesanywayssoitdoesn’taffectme.”Firstofall,rude.Second,IneverwanttostopplayingwithNoah.
“Fine.I’llupthestakesthen.”Myhandsglideuphischestandclaspathisneck,pullinghimbetweenmylegs,lightlytoywiththehairatthenapeofhisneck.Hisfingertipspressfirmlyintomyhips.“I’mcrossingthestreet,andIdon’tseeanoncomingcar.Youstilldon’tsayanything?”
Hiseyeshoverdownatmylips.“Notfair.”
“I’mnottryingtoplayfair.”
“AndI’mtryingnottobethereasonyougiveupyourdreams.”Bam.Truthfallsbetweenusandruinsthegame.
There’samomentofsilence,whereonlythetensioninourbodiesisspeaking,whereourfingertipssaywordsthatourmouthsneverwill.Myholdaroundhisnecktightens.Heslideshishandsallthewayaroundtohugmyhipsupclosetohis.
AndthenbecauseheknowsIneedforhimtolightenthismoment,hegrinslightlyandtackson,“Forfeitingsosoon,Pop-Tart?”
Iquicklypressmymouthagainsthis.It’ssoforcefulherocksbackwardslightlyandInearlyfall.Buthestabilizesusquicklyandkissesmeback,justasforcefully.We’restillfighting,butit’sonnewterrain.It’sbumpyandjarringandourmouthswillbebruised.Inipathislipandhishandsgripmyback.Noneofthisishelping—it’smakingitworse.IwhimperfromafreshstabofemotionsandNoahpullsawayquickly.
Hecradlesmyfaceandstudiesmyeyes.“DidIhurtyou?”
Ishakemyheadandtryforasmile.It’sweakandpitiful.“Noah.Iwon’taskyoutocomewithmewhenIleave,butIneedyoutoknowthatifyoueverchangeyourmindyou’realwayswelcomewhereverIam.Always.”
Hestaresatme,acreaseetchedbetweenhisbrows,andtakesadeepbreath.Hetiltsforwardandkissesmeagain.Softlythistime.Ourlipsdon’tpart.Wedon’texplore.Wesootheandsettle.
Thebellchimesabovethedoor,andthenawoman’sscratchyvoiceechoesthroughtheshop.“Unlockthosepuckers,kids!”It’sMabel.
Andshe’snotalone.
“Oh,sweetbreadandbutteronChristmasmorning.”
“Now,Harriet,youjusttuckthosedelicatesensibilitiesawayforanotherday.Thisain’tthetime.”
NoahandIpeelourselvesfromeachotherandIlookovermyshouldertofindMabelandHarrietcatchingtheirbreath.Iquicklyfixmyskewedshirtandwouldmostdefinitelyfeelembarrassedbythescenetheyjustfoundusiniftherewereenoughtime.Butthesetwoladiesarepinkcheekedandpantingfromshufflingtheirwayinhereliketheyweretryingtowinafast-walkingcompetition.Allthat’smissingarehotpinkwindbreakers.
“Don’ttrytobossmearound,Mabel,I’molderthanyou.”
“Andstodgier,too.Haven’tyoueverseenacoupleinlovedoingalittlebitofkissingbefore?”
Harrietliftshernose.“Theyshouldwaittoshowthatsortofaffectionuntilmarriage.”
Mabelrollshereyes.“Oh,likeyouandTomdid?”ShesaysthiswithasassyslurmakingHarrietgasp.“Yes,don’tactsosurprised,YourSupremeHoliness.Can’ttellmeyourlittlelast-minuteweddingbackthenwasbecauseoflove.Itwasbecauseyou’dbeenmakingloveandababy!Youhadyourselfagoodol’fashionedshotgunwedding.”Mabelgruntsagain.“Honeymoonbaby,myass.”
“Ladies,”Noahsays,somehowmanagingnottolaughatthesetwobickeringgranniesIhopetogrowupandbecomeexactlylikeoneday.“Wastheresomethingurgentyoucameinherefor?”
“Shit!Yes!”saysMabel.
HarrietjumpsinbeforeMabelcanfinish,alsotakingadelicatebutpoignantstepinfrontofher.“Youneedtohide!”shesays,aimingherhawkeyesonme.
MabelnearlypushesHarrietoutofthewaytostepinfrontofherthistime.Andnowit’scleartheyweren’thereonajointmission—theywereeachracingtogettousfirst.“Thatfellowwho’sbeensnoopingaroundallweekwithhiscameraisintownagainrightnow.”
“Thepaparazzo?”Noahasks.
“No,thepizzamanhasanewphotographyhobby!Yes,Noah,thepaparazzo!Butevenworse,there’smoreofthem!”PoorNoah.Hetakesitlikeachamp,butMabelisdownrightlethaltoday.Actually,IthinkNoahsecretlyadoresitbecausethecornerofhisperfectmouthisdoingthatslighttwitchagain.
“PhilandToddsawhimcomingandwaylaidhimwithfactsabouthammers.ButIdon’tknowhowlongthey’llholdhim,andtheothersareallscatteredaround.”Harrietsaysthiswhileliftingthefoldingcountertopandtryingtopushherwaythroughit.IsaytryingbecauseMabelisalsotryingtopushthroughandthetwoareonlygettingthemselveswedgedinthatlittlespacetogether.
“Mabel!Wouldyoujust—”
“Iwould,Harriet,ifyouwouldjust…”
Now,Noahhassteppedawayfrommetohelppulltheseladiesthroughthecounter.“Nowlookatwhatyoutwohavedone,”hesaysgently.“Mabel,suckinandtwist.”
“Howmanyofthemareoutthere,Mabel?”Iask,feelingsick.
Noahtugsherarmlightlyandtheybothpopthroughtooursideofthecounter.“Ohhoney,there’sgottabeatleasttwentyofthem.Awholecrowd.Youneedtogetoutofherequickly.”
IlooktoNoahandoureyesbothconveythesamemessage:Gameover.Ourtimetogetherisup.Chapter34Amelia
NoahandIracedownthebackalleyjustlikethelasttime,exceptnow,there’saheavydreadinthepitofmystomach.IfthereareasmanyasMabelsays,itmeansthey’vehadsomekindofconfirmationthatI’mhereandtheywon’tletupuntilthey’vegottenthepicturestheywant.Whichremindsme.
“Noah,”Isay,tugginghimtoastop.“Youcan’tbeseenwithme.IneedtotakeyourtruckbymyselfandyoucangetaridewithAnnie.”
Hisbrowsstitchtogetherandhisjawtightens.“Why?”
Ilookdowntowhereourhandsareclaspedtogether.“Thisiswhy.Ifyoudon’twantyourlifetochange,theycan’tfindustogether.”Myvoiceshakes.“They’lltakephotosfromahundreddifferentangles,andtomorrowmorning,you’llbealloversocialmediaandtabloids.”
Iexpecthimtodropmyhand.I’mpreparingforthelossofit.Instead,hisgriptightensandheanswers,“I’mgoingwithyou.”
“Noah!”
Thistimehebreaksourholdandcrowdsme,cuppingmyjawinhishandsandlookingfireintomyeyes.“I’mnotleavingyou.IthoughtIcouldkeepthistemporarybut—”Hebreaksoff,shakinghisheadandkissingmehastily.Nearlypainfully.It’sthemostexquisitetorture.“Idon’twantittobeoverbetweenus.Ican’tletitbeover.”
I’mbreathlesswithhope.“Whatareyousaying?”
“I’msayingfearsbedamned.Iwantarelationshipifyoudo.”
“Ido!”Isaysofasthewasbarelyabletofinishhissentence.
“Butyou’llhavetobepatientwithme—”
“Iwill!”
“—becauseit’sgoingtotakesometimeformetogetusedtothedistancething.AndIstillneedtobearoundtotakecareofmygrandmasoIwon’tbeabletovisityoumuch.”
Igouponmytoestowrapmyarmsaroundhisneck.“We’llfigureitout.AndI’llgiveyousomuchpatience,you’llbeoverwhelmedwithhowbenevolentIam.But,Noah,areyousure?Justlastnight—”
Thistimehecutsmeoff.“Lastnight,IheldyouinmyarmsandrealizedI’dbeanidiottoeverletyougo.Notonlyanidiot,butI’dbemiserable.Icouldneverforgivemyselfforlettingyougetaway.”
Ishakemyheadfrantically,smilingandtryingnottocry.“Mr.Romantic.”
“Mr.RidiculouslyLucky.”
“Shush.Itoldyounottoencroachonmynicknames.”
Hegrinsandhiseyeslowertomymouth.“Soisthatayes?You’llofficiallydatethislowlypieshopowner?”
“Aslongasyouneverrefertoyourselfasthatagain,yes.Absolutelytimesamillion.”
Hekissesmeoncemoreandslideshishandupmyarmbeforetakingmyhandandcontinuingourescapedownthealley.“We’llfigureoutthedetailswhenwegethome.”Home.ThesuddenburstofjoyIfeelhearingthatwordnearlytripsme.
ButwhenNoahandIsurfacefromthealley,weimmediatelyrealizeourmistake.Somehowtheyknewthisiswherewe’dendup,andallsortsofpaparazziandmediaaregatheredintheparkinglot—waitingforus.MyheartlurchesandItrytoturnbackbeforetheynoticeus,butI’mnotfastenough.
“Theresheis!”
“RaeRose!”
“Rae,overhere!Who’stheguy?!”
“Isittrueyou’vebeenhavingaloveaffairwithapieshopowner?”
They’reallshoutingandracingtowardus.Noahgripsmyhandfirmlyandlooksdownatme.“Whatdoyouwantmetodo?Dowemakearunforit?”
IswallowandallowmyselfonesecondofangerbeforeItrainmyfaceintoanimpassiveexpressionfortheflashingcameras.Icovermymouthandanglemyfaceuptohimsotheycan’treadmylips.“Weneedtogettoyourtruck.Don’tsayawordtothemotherthanaskingthemtomoveaswewalk.”IwishIcouldhavehadmoretimetopreparehimforhowtointeractwiththemedia,butthere’snobetterwaytolearnthanasyougo,right?
Holdinghandsandkeepingourgazesdown,wewalktowardhistruck.Butthepaparazziarehungrytodayandtheyformabarrieraroundus,takingadvantageofmylackofsecurity.
“Excuseme.Move.Letusthrough.”Noahisdoingavaliantjoboftryingtogetmethroughthepressingmazeofmedia,butthey’renotbudging.IkeeptuggingonhishandbecauseIcanfeelhisragebuildingandI’mafraidhe’lldosomethingrashlikeshovetheguywho’scurrentlyputtinghiscameraaboutfiveinchesfrommyfaceandyellingquestionsatme.
“Whoareyouwithrightnow,Rae?”He’ssocloseIsmellwhathehadforlunch.
“Backoff,”Noahbarksathim,buthedoesn’trelent.
“Isheyournewboy-toy?Areyoufinallyveeringawayfromyourrichandsuccessfultype?”He’stryingtoprovokeusintoananswer,andIcanfeelthatNoahisclosetosnapping.
Noahangleshisshoulderinfrontofmesohecanmakebettereyecontactwiththepaparazzi.“Isaidbackoffandletusthrough.”
Alltheothersareclosingusinaswell,shoutingquestionsandbeggingforacomment,butthey’renotasin-our-faceasthisman.“Surething,bigguy.JustanswermyquestionandI’llbackrightoff.Whatmakesyouthinkanaverageguylikeyouisgoodenoughforaworldwidestarlikeher?Caretocomment?”
Panicseizesmeathisquestion.I’vebeencorneredlikethisbeforeinmycareer,andit’sterrifyingeachtime,butI’veneverheardapaparazzisaysomethingsocuttingorintentionallyinsulting.Also,somethingabouthisquestionisnigglingthebackofmymind.LikeI’vehearditbefore.
IsthishowitwillalwaysbeforNoah?Themediaconstantlyremindinghimofhisplace?Thistimeit’smewhoisabouttosnap.Iballmyfist—towhat—punchhim?Ithinkso,becauseinthenextmoment,NoahiscoveringmyfistwithhishandandwhenIlookupathim,heshakeshisheadthetiniestbit.Don’tdoit.
Tomakethingsworse,newvoicesenterthemix.
“Hey!Getawayfromthem.Leaveourgirlalone!”
IlookovermyshouldertothesoundofMabelandHarriet,alongwithPhilandToddyellingangrilyatthepaparazzi.No,no,no.Theyneedtogoinside.There’snoreasonanyoneelseshouldgetdraggedintothisbreachofprivacy,butthey’rerelentlessuntiltheirvoicesareheardandhalfoftheflashingcamerasturnintheirdirection.Thisstoryisgettingjuicierandjuicierforthembytheminute.
Butthentwofamiliarblacked-outSUVswhipintotheparkinglotandblaretheirhorns.Assoonastheycometoastop,Iseemyusualbodyguardsjumpoutandracetowardthepaparazzi,followedbySusanuntilthey’reatmyside.
“Areyouokay?Let’sgetyououtofhere!”shesays,andmyguardsprovidecoverageformeandNoahaswe’reguidedthroughthecrowd,pushingthembackintheprocess.
I’veneverbeensohappytoseeSusanandherjet-blackbobinmyentirelife.Icouldkisshermatchingpantsuit.
“Getback,”Will,myheadbodyguard,saysforcefullyandeveryonecompliesbecauseWilllookslikeastreetfighteryou’dneverwanttocross.HealsomakestheverybestgingersnapsI’veeverhadandisawizardwithatravelsewingkit,butI’mthankfulthiszooofpaparazzidoesn’tknowthat.
IjumpintheSUVfirst,quicklyfollowedbyNoah.Hesettlesclosetomeonthebenchandputshisarmsaroundme.Ibreatheinhiscomfortingscent.“Areyouokay?”hewhispersclosetomyear.
“Betterquestion,areweokay?”Iask,becauseI’mterrifiedthatNoahisrethinkingeverythingafterthatrun-in.Thatourrelationshipwillgodowninhistoryastheshortesteverlived.Iknowhehasallkindsoftrustissuesalready,soI’mafraidwhatthatmansaidtodayisgoingtochangehismindaboutus.
Tomyshock,heletsoutasoftlaughthroughhisnoseandgrins,kissingmyforehead.“It’lltakemorethanthattogetridofmenow.Theonlyperson’sopinionIcareaboutisyours.Ifyou’restillupfor‘datinganaverageman,’Iamstillin.”
IsagagainsthimwithreliefjustasSusanstepsupintotheSUVandtakesthebenchfacingus.“Areyoutwoallright?You’reluckywegotherewhenwedid.”Thedoorshutsandimmediatelythecriesofthepaparazziareblessedlymuffled.
ButwhenmyeyeslockwithSusan’s,realizationknocksintome.IsuddenlyrememberwhereI’veheardthatguy’squestionbefore.
“Susan,where’sClaire?She’susuallyalwayswithyou.”
“Oh.”Shepullsaface.“Sadly,Ihadtolethergo.Justwasn’tdoingherjobwellanymore.”Sheshrugs,andabouldersettlesinthepitofmystomach.Somethingisnotright.
—
Theridehomeisquietasweallsettleandprocess.TheotherSUVhungbackandblockedtheexitoftheparkinglotsowewereabletomakeittoNoah’swithoutbeingfollowed.Willdropsusoffclosetothefrontdoor,andthenbacksdownthedrivewayagain,anglingthevehiclesothatnoonecanenterthedrivewayiftheyfindus.Ishouldfeelsaferwithmyteamaroundmeagain,butIdon’t.Atleastnotwithallmyteam.
NoahandIarethinkingintandem.WebothwatchSusancloselyasshepullsouthercellphone,registersthelackofservice,andthentellsussheneedstowalkbackdownthedrivewaytogiveWillinstructions.“Goaheadandpackyourthings,Rae.We’regoingtoleaveassoonaspossiblesowecangetyousafelybackinNashvillebeforetheyfindyouhere.”
Shedoesn’twaitformyanswerbecauseSusanisusedtomecomplyingwithouthesitation.Whenthedoorshutsbehindher,IheadintothekitchenwhereIpickupthephoneandimmediatelydialmymom.
“DoyouthinkSusan’stimelyappearancewasfishy,too?”Noahasks.
“Yep.AndherassistanttoldmetheotherdaythatthingsaregoingonbehindmybackthatIdon’tknowabout.It’stimetogetsomeanswers.”
ThephoneringsseveraltimesandIbounceonmyfeet,anxioustotalktomymombeforeSusanreturns.Noahtellsmehe’sgoingtostepoutsidetogivemeprivacyandkeepSusanawayforafewminutes.
Finally,mymomanswers.“Hello?”
“Mom,it’sme.”
Hervoiceisleveltencheery.“Amelia!Hi,sweetie!It’ssogoodtohearfromyou.What’sgoingon?I’matthebeachsoyoumightnotbeabletohearmeverywell.Listentothisoceantoday.It’sroaring!”
“No,Mom.I—”
Sheremovesthephonefromherearandisextendingittowardtheocean.IknowbecauseitsoundslikeI’mpracticallyinsideawave.“Mom!”Iyellafewtimes.“Ineedtoaskyouaquestion!Putthephonebackonyourear!”
“Doesn’tthatsoundamazing?Wishyouwerehere.Oh,thesunisincredibletoday.AndTedishere,too!Doyouwanttosay—”
Icutheroffbeforeshehandsthephoneoff.“Mom,thisisimportantandI’minahurry.DidyoutipoffanyonefromthemediatowhereIamstayingrightnow?”
Ihaveneveronceconfrontedmymomaftershe’sdonethis.InthepastwhenSusanwouldtellmethatsheconfirmeditwasmymomleakingthestories,I’vesilentlystewedandpulledfurtherawayfromher.Butnow,Ineedtoknow.
Thelinegoessilent.AtfirstIthinkit’sbecauseshe’sguilty,butwhenshespeaksagain,Irealizethatshesoundshurtinstead.“No.Ofcoursenot.WhywouldyouthinkI’ddothat?”Ican’tanswerrightaway—toomanyresponsesareswirlingaroundmyhead.Butapparentlymysilencespeaksvolumes.“Amelia,Idon’tknowwherethisiscomingfrom,butIsweartoyou,Iwouldneversellastoryaboutyoutoamagazine.Neverinamillionyears.”
Myguttwists.Ishutmyeyestryingtosortthisout—andallIkeepcomingbacktoisthefactthattheaggressivepaparazzosaidnearlywordforwordthesamethingSusansaidtomeoverthephoneafewdaysago.ItispossiblethatsomeonefromthetowncalledamagazineandtoldthemwhereIam.But…it’srareforthemediatoallgatherliketheydidtoday.Likeitwasorganizedandplanned.Someonewouldhavehadtogothroughalotoftroubletoorchestratetheambushtoday—andIreallydon’tthinkanyoneinthistownwouldhavedonethattome.There’sonlyonepersonwhohasbeenupsetbymytimehereinRomeandwouldwanttosmokemeoutofhiding.
“Mom,”Isay,swallowingagainstasuddenlydrythroat.“Whyaren’twecloseanymore?”
Ihearmymomreleaseasigh,andIthinkit’soneofrelief.“IwishIknew.I’vewantedtobringitupforawhilenow,butdidn’tknowhow.Isitme?DidIdosomething?BecauseIwanttoknowandmakeitrightifIdid.”
Imighthavethoughtitwasmostlyherfaultafewdaysago,butnow,Idon’tthinkshe’stheonlyonetoblame.Ishouldhavespokenuplongago.QuestionedmymomaboutthetabloidstuffinsteadofjustblindlyacceptingeverythingSusanhasevertoldme.IwishIhadfoughtformyrelationshipwithmymominsteadofquietlysteppingbackfromit.I’mfindingmyvoicenow,though.“Ithinkwehavealottotalkaboutandsortthrough,butIcan’tgetintoitallrightnow.Ijustneedyoutoknow,Imissyoualot.And…”Myvoicehitches.“Iloveyou.Iwanttogetbacktothesortofrelationshipweusedtohave.”
Shebreathesindeeplyandthensniffles.“Iwantthat,too.Yes,callmebackwhenyoucan.OrwecanFaceTime.OrI’llflytowhereveryouare.Younameit!I’mjust…”She’scrying—Icanhearitinhervoice.“I’mhappyyoubroughtitup.Thingshavebeensoweirdbetweenus,andsometimes,I’vewantedtocallyouandcatchup,but…I’vechickenedoutbecauseI’vegottentheimpressionthatyoudon’twanttotalktomeanymore.”
“That’sbecauseIthoughtyouweresellingstoriesaboutmetotabloids.”Aswellastheconstantmoneyrequestsandmooching,butIdon’tfeellikenowisthetimetomentionthat.NotsureI’mevenreadytoadmitmyfeelingsaboutittoheryet.
“No—hon.Pleasebelieveme.Ihaveneveroncecontactedanyonefromthemediaandtippedthemofftoanythingaboutyou.Iloveyoutoomuchtodosomethinglikethat.”
“Ibelieveyou,”ItellmymombecauseIreallydo.Icanheartheearnestnessinhervoice.Plus,toomanyotherpuzzlepiecesarefallingintoplace.“But,Mom…isthereanyone—evenafriendyoumighthavetoldthatI’minRome,Kentucky,rightnow?Yourboyfriend,maybe?”
“No,Ihaven’teventoldhim.”Shepausesamoment.“But…actually.Ididtellsomeone.”
“Who?”
“Susan,”shesays,anditmakesmypulsejump.“WhenIcalledhertohelpmesetuptheflight,shetoldmehowworriedshewasaboutyouandafraidsomethingterriblehadhappenedsinceyouhadn’tcheckedin.SheaskedifI’dheardanythingandsoItoldherwhattownyouwereinbecauseshesoundedreallyfreakedout.Wasthatwrong?YounormallytellSusaneverything.”Shesoundssoconcerned.Historysuggeststhatshe’sonlyshowingthisworrybecauseshe’safraidI’mgoingtocutherofffinancially.ButinlightofeverythingI’mlearningtoday,Iwonderifthat’snottrue.IwonderifsomeofthewedgebetweenmymomandmeonlyexistsbecauseofthewomanI’vegiventoomuchpowerovermylife.
There’snotimetoanswerherquestion.Ihaveafewmorethatneedanswersfirst.“Mom,afewyearsago,foryourforty-fifthbirthday,didSusaneversendacartopickyouupforthesurpriseweekendawayIplannedforyou?”
“What?”Shebreathesout.“No.Ihadnoideayoudidthat.Infact,Ithoughtyouforgotaboutmybirthdaythatyear.”
Iseered.Susan’sfingerprintsareallovermyrelationshipwithmymom—andalthoughit’smyfaultfordelegatingsomuchtothatwoman,Ithoughtshewasasafeplace.Turnsout,shesabotagedmyrelationshipwithmymother.HowcouldSusandothattome?
“Iactuallyhadplannedafungetawayforus,andSusantoldmewhenIsentacarforyouthatyoudeclined,sayingyoualreadyhadplanswithyourfriends.”
“Oh,Amelia.Youmusthavebeensohurt.”
Ilaughbutit’snotinamusement.“Youmusthavebeen,too.”
“Well…”Sheletsitdangle.
MymomandIstillhavesomuchtotalkthrough,andIneedhertounderstandthatonlycontactingmewhensheneedssomethinghasbeenhurtful.Butfirst,Iwanttohearherside.MaybeI’mnotseeingthewholepictureafterall.MaybeshehasbeenreachingoutandSusanhasbeengettingintheway—makingapointtotellmewhenmymomasksherforsomethingsoshe’lllookworse.
“SusanalsotoldmeyoudeclinedmyinvitationtojoinmeforthefirstfewU.S.datesofthetour.Wasthattrue?”
“Absolutelynot.Iwouldlovetocometothoseconcerts—shenevercalledme.”
IfeellikeIcouldpunchthroughawallrightnow.ASusan-shapedwall.
“Mom,I’msosorry.Ithink…ugh,Ithinkthisismyfault.I’veletSusanhavetoomuchpowerinmylife,and…I’mprettysureshe’sbeenpurposelygettingbetweenus.”
NowIthinkbacktoallthetimesSusanencouragedmetonotconfrontmymom,buttojustcutoffcommunicationwithher,andIwanttoscream.HowcouldInotseeit?HowcouldIletsomanyyearsgobylikethiswithoutmymom?Ihadcompletelygonetosleeponmyownlife.Notanymore.
“Oh,hon—it’snotallyourfault.Ishouldhavequestionedthings,too.Reachedouttoyouevenwhenitwashard.I’msosorry,Amelia.”
“It’sokay,Mom.We’llfigureitout.I’vegottogo,rightnow.ButI’llcallyoutomorrowandwecantalkthroughsomemoreofthis.Oh,andyou’reabsolutelyinvitedtothoseconcerts,okay?Iwantyouthere—Iloveyou.”
“Iloveyou,too,Rae-Rae.”Myheartcracksopen—butthistimewithhope.Maybemyrelationshipwithmymomisn’tsofargoneasIthought.
IhangupattheexactmomentthatSusanwalksthroughthefrontdoor,Noahhotonherheels.
“What’sgoingonhere?”shesays,lookingoverhershoulderatNoah.Thesharpedgeofherbobwhipsherjawline.“Whywashetryingtokeepmeoutofhere?”
“You’retheoneresponsibleforthepaparazzishowinguptoday,aren’tyou?”IaskSusanasshewalksin.
She’ssostunnedbymyaccusationthatherpursefallsoffhershoulderandhitsthefloor.Afterblinkingseveraltimes,sheclearsherthroatandbendsgracefullytoretrieveherpurse.“I’mgoingtopretendyoudidn’tjustthrowthathorribleaccusationatme,andinstead,helpyougetpackedlikewediscussed.”
“Youdiscussedit,notme.AndI’mnotleaving.”Isaythiscalmly,whileangerpulsesthroughmyveins.NoahstepspastSusanandcrossestheroomtostandbesideme,puttinghishandonmylowback.It’ssuchasupportivegesturewithouttryingtohandleanythingformethatitjostlesthereleasemechanismonmytears.Notnow,emotions.
Susan’seyesdroptowhereNoahistouchingmeandshesighswithannoyance.“Letmeguess.Heistheonewhoplantedthisideainyourhead?”Shescoffs.“Sotypical.Rae,openyoureyesandseethathe’snotrightforyou.Infact,haveyoustoppedtothinkthatmaybehe’stheonewhotoldthephotographerswheretofindyou?Ormaybethatmoney-suckingmotherofyours.Webothknowthatshe—”
“Enough.”Myvoiceissharpasthecrackofawhip.“Ijustgotoffthephonewithmymom.Itwasn’ther.Infact,it’sneverbeenher,hasit?You’vebeenleakingstoriesaboutmetothetabloidsforyearsandusingmymomasyourscapegoat.Also,howmanyofthosemoney-suckingrequestsyoutellmeshemakesactuallycomefromher?”
“Thisisridiculous.You’regoingtotrustyourmom—theonewho’sbeenusingyouforyears—overme?”
“Yes.”MyreplycomesinstantlyandSusanlookslikeIjustimpaledher.Noahpresseslightlyagainstmyback.Quietsolidarity.“Iknowitwasyou,Susan,andnowIknowyou’reresponsibleforsomuchmorethanIeverrealized,soyoucancuttheshit.Andthankstofinallytalkingtomymomaboutallthis,Iknowthatyou’vebeenmeddlinginourrelationshipandpurposelynotrelayingmessagesandmakingupliesinstead.”Ishakemyheadathowobviousitseemstomenow.
SusancrossesherarmsandIhavethestrongesturgetopushthembackdownbyhersides,becausethat’sNoah’sSurlyPoseandshehasnorighttoit.“You’rewrong.Yourmomistheonewhocontinuestolieandletyoudown.I’vealwaysbeentheonetotakecareofyou.”
“No,Susan.You’refired.”Thewordsgliderightoffmytongue,andsuddenly,IfeellighterthanI’veeverfeltbefore.Likemyfeetmightliftofftheground.
Susan’smouthfallsopen.“You’vegottobekiddingme?”Hereyesbulge.“Ihavedonenothingbutbendoverbackwardforyouthelasttenyears!Ihavegottenyouthebestgigs.Majordealsonyourcontracts.Thebestendorsements.Ihavesingle-handedlygrownyourcareer,andyouwouldn’tbeanywhererightnowifitwasn’tforme!”
“Ifyouhadtrulycaredaboutme,youwouldhavebeenlookingaftermywell-being,too.Noticingthatyouwereworkingmeintotheground.ThatIwassolonelywithoutmymom.Butinstead,youweresoconsumedwithmakingmoremoneythatyoujustusedme.Youusedmeandyoupushedthemostimportantpersonintheworldawayfromme.”
Shestaresatme—no,glaresatme—fortwobeats.Hereyelidsaretwitchingfromwithheldrage.“It’shim,isn’tit?Ishepressuringyouintothis?He’sbrainwashingyouintothinkingI’mtheproblem.”She’sgraspingatstraws,butit’stoolate.Icanseethetruthperfectlynow.
“Stop.Youneedtogo.”
Susan’slipstremblebutnotfromtears.It’spureanger.“You’remakingamistake.”
Ishrug.EvenifIam(whichI’mnot),it’smymistaketomake.Itfeelsincredibletoallowmyselftofollowmygutagain.“Thisisyourthirty-daynoticesincethat’swhatisinourcontract.ButconsideritapaidvacationbecauseIdon’twanttoseeorhearfromyouoverthenextthirtydaysorthereafter.”
Shegripsthestrapofherpursesotightly,herknucklesgowhite.“I’llleave,butyouneedtoknowthatyou’rewastingyourlifeouthere,andthatman”—shespitsthoselasttwowordswhilenoddingindisgusttowardNoah—“willonlybringyoudownjustlikeyourmomwasdoing.Believeitornot,whatIdidtodaywasforyourowngood.”
“Soyou’readmittingtobeingbehindthepaparazziambushtoday?”
Susantakesasecondtothinkitover,andwhenshedecidesshehasnothinglefttolose,shenods.“Yeah.Idid.AndI’ddoitagaininaheartbeatbecauseIcouldtellyouhaddeludedyourselfintothinkingthisplacecouldbeyournewhome.Itneverwill,Rae,becauseyourlifeandhislifedon’tmix.”Igritmyteethagainstherwords.“SoIbroughtwhatwouldhaveinevitablyhappenedanywaytoyoualittlesooner—wasthatreallysowrong?Wasitsoterribletoforcesomespacebetweenyouandyourmomwhoweresoobnoxiouslyinseparable?Imeanforshit’ssake,Rae,youwereattachedtothatwoman’shipwhenIfoundyou.Youalwayslistenedtoheradviceovermine,andsheheldyouback.Soyes,Imeddledalittle,butitwasnecessarytohelpyouachieveyourdreams.”
Itakeonesteptowardher.“Getout.”BeforeIthrowsomethingatyou.
Hernostrilsflareonce,andthensheturnsaround,chinheldhighassheleavesthekitchen.
“Actually,wait,Susan!”Sheturnsaroundhesitantly.“SendmeClaire’snumberthemomentyou’rebackinservice.I’llbehiringherimmediatelyasmyownassistant.”IhavenodoubtsnowthatClairewasfiredbecauseofwhatsheuncoveredaboutSusan.AndIcouldreallyuseherhelpnowasIbegintheprocessoffindinganewmanagerbeforethetourstarts.
Susanrollshereyesandthenwalksaway,muttering,“Gotohell,Amelia,”beforethedoorshutsbehindher.
Well,atleastIknowshedoesremembermyname.
Andthenshe’sgone.OnlywhenIseeherdisappearpastthewindowdoIspinaroundandsagrightintoNoah’schest.Hewrapshissturdyarmsaroundmeandholdsmeclose,pressinghislipstothetopofmyhair.“Youwereincredible.”
I’mtremblingnowandmylegsfeellikethey’regoingtogiveout.TheadrenalineiswearingoffandI’mleftfeelingraw.
“I’vegotyou,”Noahsays,scoopingmeupandcarryingmebacktohisbedwherehelaysmedowngingerly.
“She’swrong,youknow?”Isay,lookingupathimwithwideeyes.“We’regoingtobegreattogether.”
Hetucksablanketaroundmeandkissesmyforehead,lipslingeringinasoft,delicatepress.“Iknow.”
Noahclimbsonthebedbesideme.Hesitsuprightagainsttheheadboardandretrievesabookfromhissidetable,andthenhedoesthemostincrediblething:hereadsaloudtome.AllweekI’veaskedhimtoandhesaidno.Butnowheis,andhisvoiceisrumblyandcomfortinginthemostperfectway.
MyheartquiversandIpressakisstotheoutsideofhisbicep.Hiseyesglidelikeasmoothcaressovermyfaceandmyhairandmyneckuntilhefocuseshisgazeonthebookagainandcontinuesreadingaloudfromhisboring,nonfictionbiography.It’swonderful.Iwouldn’tchangeathing.
Wehavesomuchtotalkabout,somanydecisionstomake,butinstead,Iletmyselfrestinthismomentandleanmyheadbackagainstthepillow,smilingasIrunmyfingersupanddownhisarmwhilehereads.
Maybehewon’thavetohaveaGregoryPeckfaceafterall?Chapter35Amelia
IstepoutofthebathroomandgointoNoah’sroom,whereIfindhimlyingonhissideonthebed,aScrabbleboardlaidoutinfrontofhim.We’vebeenplayingalotofittogetheroverthelastweek,aswellashavingdrinksatHank’slastFriday,whereImanagedtonotaccidentallytakeasleepingpillandpassout,aheartstournamentwithhissistersonSaturdaynightatThePieShop,readinghisterrificallyboringbooktogetherinbedeverynight,andthennotreadingtogetherinbedatnight.
AfterIfiredSusan,Tommycalledandsaidmycarwasfixedandreadytogo.ButIwasn’treadyyet,andneitherwasNoah,sowedecidedIwouldstayuntilIneededtoleavetogetreadyforthetour.Unfortunately,thatdayistomorrow.ButIwasgivenonemoreincredibleweekwithNoah,hissisters,andthiskookytown,andthememoriesfromitwillgetmethroughthenextninemonths.MymomandIhavealsotalkedonthephonemore.She’sgoingtomeetmeafewdaysbeforethestartofthetourtohelpmepackandofficiallyreconnect.
ThingshavebeenalittledifferentwithWillalwayshoveringnearbywhenwegoout,butitsurprisinglyhasn’tbeenthatstrange.Paparazzilingeredintownthefirstfewdaysafterthebigincident,snappingpictureseverytimeIwentanywhereinthetown;butsoon,whentheyrealizedthissortoflifeiswaytooslowandboringtomostpeople,theyvanished.I’vehadmyprivacyback.
WhatIthoughtwouldbeaproblemforthetownendedupbeingthehighlightoftheiryear.Themomentapaparazzowassighted,everyonetransformedintopeacocks,flauntingrandomtalentsandtryingtheirbesttogettheirpicturetaken.Mysteriously,Phil’shardwaresignhascreptcloserandclosertoThePieShopeachday,wherephotographershavebeenknowntolurkoutside,alwaysadvertisinganewsale.
AndnooneseemstomindWillhangingaround.Actually,everyoneseemstolovehim.It’salittleunconventionalthathe’sbecomeourthirdroommateandtakenovertheroomIhadbeenstayingin,butheholesupinhisSUV,surveyingthedrivewayuntillateatnight,andthencomesintosleepforafewhoursbeforehe’soutwiththesunagain.Mabelkeepsbuyinghimpiesbecauseshethinksheneedsmorecaloriestosupportallhismuscle.Ithinkshehasacrushonhim.WhenIcomebackafterthetourlikeNoahandIhavediscussed,we’llhavetofigureoutamorepermanentsolutionforsecurity.Butrightnow,Willisnotinthishouse,andthat’sallthatmatters.
“Thief,”NoahsayswhenhenoticeswhatI’mwearing.IstolehishoodieagainandI’llnevergiveitback.Underneath,I’mwearingadelicatepairofsleepshorts.Noahnotices—orrathernoticesthelackofclothingonmylegs.Hesmilestohimselfandaimshisgazebacktotheboard,dumpingoutthetilesbeforesittingupandperchingontheedgeofthebed.
“MoreScrabble?”Iask,steppingbetweenhislegs.HeputshishandsonthebacksofmythighsandlooksupatmewithagazesoreverentIfeeloutrageouslybeautifuleveninmywethairandhisoversizedhoodie.
“Ijustthoughtsinceit’syourlastnightintown,youmightwanttoplayonemoretime,”hesays,andIdon’tlikethesuddensadnessthatstatementhasintroducedtotheconversation.
“Lastnightforawhile,”Icorrect.
Hesmilesalittlebutit’sclearhe’sstillkeepingabarrieraroundhisheart.I’venoticedhe’sgrownmorequietandpensiveoverthelasttwodays.
EarliertonightthetownthrewmealittlegoodbyepartyhereatNoah’shouse,andthroughthewholeevening,hestayedintheshadows.Ithinkhe’sterrifiedthatwewon’tlast.ThathistorywillrepeatitselfandIwon’tbefaithfultohim.Poorthingdoesn’trealizehe’snevergettingridofmenow.
Hiseyessnagonmylips.“Yeah,forawhile.”
“Youdon’tbelieveI’llcomeback?”
Hehesitatestoanswer.“Iwantto.It’sjust…”
“Hardforyoutofullytrustagain.Iknow.”Iintertwinemyfingersinthebackofhishairandhecloseshiseyeswithalookofpain.Ileandownandkisshischeek.“IpromiseI’llbeback,Noah.Andyouknowhowyoucanbelieveme?”
“How?”heasks,withhiseyesstillclosed.
Itakethismomenttostudyhim.Tomemorizeeverycentimeterofhisface.Everywrinkle,eyelash,andcurveofhismouth.“BecauseIfoundahomeandafamilywiththistownandIlovethem.”Idraginabreathandcuphisjaw,anglinghisfaceuptowardme.“AndIloveyou.”
Heopenshiseyes,andhishandsremainfixedonthebacksofmylegs.Hisfaceistenderastonishment,becausewehaven’texchangedthosewordsyet.ButIcan’tholdtheminanylonger.
AndthenNoahsmiles.Full.Wide.Glorioussmile.“Iloveyou,too,Amelia.”
“Oh,thankgoodness,”Isayonanexhalewhileremovinghishandsfrommylegs,tugginghiswristsupintheair,andthenpullinghisshirtoff.“Iwasbeginningtosweatthereforasecond.”Nottrue.I’veknownhelovesmeevenbeforeheevenknewit.
HelaughsasIgivehisshirtonefinalyankoverhishead.Nowhe’sshirtless,justthewayIlikehim.Myeyesgreedilyroamtheexpanseofhistan,summertimebody.Muscledshouldersandbiceps.Broadchestandmasculineveinswindingdownhisforearms.Beautifultattooburstingwithcolorandflowersandpieagainsthisribcage—adirectcontrasttohisgrumpyunapproachablemaleness.HisblondhairiswavinginslightdisarrayandtheslashofhismoodymouthhitchesupinthecornerasIoglehim.
HethenwatchesasIremovemysweatshirtandrevealthesilkspaghettistrapcamisoleunderneath.It’sblushpinkandmatchesmyskinaftermyshower.IaskedClaire(whoisofficiallymynewpersonalassistant)tobringmeafewthingsfrommyhouseafterIdecidedtostayhereanotherweek,andIwanttokissmypastselfforhavingtheforethoughttomakesurethislittlenumberwasamongthoseitems.
Noah’seyesfallallovermeandIfeelthehotpressofhisgaze.HewatchesmeasIwalktothebedroomdoorandlockit.Idon’tsuspectWillwouldcomeinsidebeforemidnight,butI’mmakingapointthatwhatIhaveintendedfortonightshouldnotbeinterrupted.
WhenIcomebacktoNoah,he’sstanding—armscrossed.SurlyPose.Imirrorit.Thefemininedelicateversion.SurlyinSilk.Thismakeshimlaughandthenhiseyesdroptomyshoulder.Herunshisfingeralongthewispystrapofmycamisole.Alongmyskin.“Sosoft,”hesays,almosttohimself.Heloopshisfingerunderthestrapandglidesitdownoffmyshoulder.Mykneesnearlybuckle.Amanthisstrongandruggedshouldn’tbeabletobethistender.Hisotherhandpressesagainstmylowerback,pullingmyhipsfirmlytohis.Hisbreathmovestomybareshoulderashebendsdowntolayonemeltingkisstomycollarbone.
Ifeelstrangledbymyownneedforhim.ButIstaystillandlethimpresshotkissesallovermyshoulder.Myneck.Mymouth.Ifeelwired—strungoutwithanticipationasIfeelhistonguetouchmyskin.
“Idon’twanttoletyougo,”hewhispersinmyearduringhistraverseoftheothersideofmybody.
“Thisisn’tgoodbye,Noah.”
“Thenwhydoesitfeellikeit?”hesaysashislipsbrushdownthelineofmythroat.“WhydoIfeellikeImightneverseeyouagain?”
Iclosemyeyesandrunmyhandsuphissolidchest,feelinghisheartbeatingagainstmypalm—savoringtheheatofhislipsandthesweetnessofhistouch.Rightnow,inhisroom,surroundedbyhisbody,Ifeelconfidentthatwe’llbeabletomakeourrelationshipwork.ButIhavetoadmit,whenmythoughtstiptoeouttothefuture,Ifeelnervous.Mylifeisabouttobecomejam-packedwithwork,andI’mgoingtoneedNoahtotrustmewhenI’mnotabletocheckinfrequentlyorwhenhereadssomethingquestionable(anduntrue)inatabloidatthegrocerystore.I’mterrifiedthisisn’tgoingtolast,andatthesametime,IknowthatNoahandIaresorighttogether.
IwrapmyarmsaroundNoah’sabdomenandhughimtight.Helooksdownintomyeyes.“Thefutureisfullofunknowns.Wecan’ttrytofigurethemallouttonight.Let’sjustsavorthemomentswehavetogetherrightnow.”
Hebendstokissmetenderly,anditskewersmethroughtheheart.Thisbetternotbegoodbye.Don’tgiveuponussosoon,Noah.
Noah’shandmovesupmyarmwhereheslowlylowerstheotherstrapfrommyshoulder.Warmbreathfansmyskin.Istandmotionless—savoringandroastingaliveashishandsslideandpress.Teaseandsoothe.Ihavenevertrustedorwantedanyonemoreinmylife.Ilovehim.
AsNoahleisurelyunwrapsme,Ihavetheprivilegeofwatchinghimunravel.HisbreathtrembleswhenI’mallskinandhiseyesflare.Hisfingersflexagainstmyhipsashepullsmeclosertohim.Ifeelgloriouslyempoweredbyhisgazeandtugeverystitchofclothingfromhim.
Tonight,hetellsmehowmuchhelovesmewithhismouth.Hetellsmehowhe’sgoingtomissmewithhishands.Hetellsmewe’llmakethisworkwithhisbody.Andwhenthereisnothingleftbetweenusbesidesskinanddesire,ourheartstanglewithourlimbsuntilIdon’tknowwhat’swhatanymore.Wefallandtwisttogetherintothisplacebetweenrealityanddreams.There’snoexistenceoutsidethesefourwalls.AllIfeelisNoah’sstrong,warmbody,cherishingmeinthismoment.Hisfingersleavetrailsoffireovereveryinchofmyskin,leavingmeconsumed.
Wespendtheeveninglovingeachotherjoyfully,recklessly,tragicallyuntilwe’rebothdozingashisfingerslanguidlytrailmyspine.Itrytokeepfromfallingasleepaslongaspossible,becauseIknowwhenIwakeup,I’llhavetoleave.
Thetourstartsinafewdays,andIhavenochoicebuttogo.Chapter36Noah
ThebellaboveThePieShopdoorchimesasIstepthroughjustlikeithaseverydaysinceAmelialeftthreedaysago.ThedoorshutsbehindmeandIstandinthesilencefeelingacutelonelinessforthefirsttimeinmylife.Iusedtorevelinthisquiet.Craveit.NowallIcraveisher.
Imissherlaugh.Hereyes.Thecurveofhersmile,thefeelofherskin,andevenhershittypancakes.WhatIwouldn’tgiveforawholestackofthemtoday.SheleftamessageonmymachineyesterdaysayingshewasgoingintoameetingforthetourandsheaskedmetocallherwhenIgotintoworktoday,butIcan’tbringmyselftocallheryetbecauseIhatethedistanceIfeelbetweenusoverthephone.I’mgoingtohavetostaybusyoverthenextninemonthstogetthroughthem.
Thismorning,Iplantoworkmyselftothebonehereattheshop,andthenI’llgocheckonmygrandmaforlunch.I’llcomebacktoworkthisafternoonandstayopenlate,andthenmaybeMabelhassomechoresIcandoforher.Thefenceoutsideherinncoulduseafreshcoatofpaint.Annie’struckprobablyneedsanoilchange.MaybeI’llrunfortownmayor.
“Wow,youlooklikeshit,”saysEmilyaftercomingintotheshopbehindme.Igrunt.I’msodepressed,Idon’tevenhaveanysurlycomebacks.
“Noah,Imeanit,youlookterrifying.”
“Heardyouthefirsttime,”Isay,aggressivelywipingdownthecountertops.
“HaveyoutalkedtoAmeliatoday?”
Imovetothehigh-toptableandpracticallysanditdownwithhowhardIcleanit.“Nope.”
“Areyougoingtocallherlater?”Whyisshesuddenlysointerestedinmyphoneschedule?
“Maybe.”
EmilywatchesasIthrowtheragontothefloorandusemyshoetoscrubastubbornstain.“Anniesaidwhenshewasoveratyourhousetheothernight,Ameliacalledandyouletitgotoyourmachine.”
IshrugbecauseIreallydon’tfeellikehavingthisconversationwithherrightnow.
EmilyputsherhandonmyarmandtugsmebackwhenItrytopassher.“Hey,stopforasecond.Weneedtotalk.”
“Fine.ButIdon’twanttotalkaboutAmelia.”Myeyesarefixedonthewallacrosstheroom.Iwon’tlookatmysister.I’mgrumpy,andallmyemotionsareonetickawayfromboilingoverandIdon’twanthertobetheonetoabsorbthemiftheydo.
“Tough,you’regoingto.Sitdown.”Shepointstothehigh-toptable.Idon’tbudgebecauseIfeellikebeingdefiant.“Now,”shebarksandIsnapintomotion,becausedamn,thatwomanisscarywhenshe’sserious.
Emilydoesn’twaitformyasstofullywarmthebarstoolbeforeshecutsrightthroughmyheartwithabutcherknife.“Ameliaisgoneforthenextninemonths.”
Iswallowandglareather.“Yes,thankyou,CaptainObv—”
“She’sgone…”Emilypresseson.“Nowwhatareyougoingtodoaboutit?”
IsnapmymouthshutbecauseIwasn’texpectingthatquestion.WhatdoesshemeanwhatamIgoingtodoaboutit?Whatistheretodoaboutit?Amelia’stourstartstomorrowandshe’llcallmewhenshegetssettledonthebus.Fromthenonout,we’llplayphonetagforweeksonenduntilshefinallygetssickofthehassleIcauseherandbreaksupwithme.(Wedidn’tplanthatlastonebutI’mfairlycertainthat’swhatwillhappen.)
“Nothing.I’mstayinghereinRomeandtakingcareofeverythingandeveryonewhileshe’sontour.Ishouldthinkyouofallpeoplewouldbehappytohearthat.”EmilygrimaceslikeIpunchedher.AndmaybeIsortofdid.ThisiswhyIdidn’twanttotalktoheraboutthis.Myreflexesaresettodestroy.“I’msorry…”Isighheavilyandrunmyhandsthroughmyhair.“Ishouldn’thavesaidthat.”
“No,don’tbesorry.You’reright,andthat’spartofwhyI’mhere.”Shepausesandinhalesdeeply,exhales,thensays,“Ihaven’tbeenfairtoyou—ortothegirls.YouandIareoldenoughtorememberMomandDadandwhattheywerelike.Weareoldenoughtorememberexactlywhatitfeltlikethatdaywhenwegotthecallaboutthem.Andsoweknowexactlywhereourtraumacomesfrom,whereasthegirlsfeelit,butdon’talwaysknowwhy.”
Myguttwistspainfully.AndwhenEmily’seyesstartfillingwithtears,it’sallIcandotonotpushthisbarstooloutfromundermeandtakeoffrunning.AllIwantistoescapepain,butitalwaysfindsme.
“I’verealizedrecentlythatIacceptedmytraumaanddecidedtolivewithinitsboundssoIdidn’tgethurtmore.ItwaseasiesttoknowthatI’mafraidoflosinganyoneandtonotletthemoutofmysightbecauseofit.ButnowI’mseeingthatI’vebeenmorecomfortablewiththecosttoeveryonearoundme.Madison…”Emilypushesoutapainfulbreathandshutshereyestightly.“MadisonwantedsobadlytogoawaytoculinaryschoolandItalkedheroutofit.She’sinateachingjobshehatesbecauseofmeandmyfears.Annieissodevotedtomethatshehasn’tevenconsideredthepossibilityofeverleavingthistown,andI’mafraidshe’llneverdreambignow.Andyou…”Atearleaksdownhercheek.Icoverherhandwithmine.
“Andyouhavecarriedyourownhurtaswellasallofourseversinceyouhadtogrowupattenyearsold,andit’snotfair,Noah.Andtheonetimeyoudidletyourselfreallyfeelagain,Merrittexploitedit.Andthen,Idid,too.WhenyoucametohelpwithGrandma,Ishouldhavebeenthereforyouandencouragedyoutogetbackoutthere.Tonotgiveuponlove.Butinstead,IusedyourhurttomyadvantagetokeepyouclosetoussothatIcouldfeelsafer.Butit’stimeforbothofustostoppaddingourlivessowedon’tfeelbumpsintheroadanymore.Ithinkwe’llgethurtalotinthislife,butmaybeit’sworthitbecausesometimeswewillexperiencereallyamazingthings,too.Maybenoteverythingwillendinhurt.Butwe’llneverknowifwedon’ttry.”
IlaughincredulouslyasIsqueezeEmily’shand,threateningmyowndamntearsnottofall.“Youcametothislife-changingconclusionyourself?”
Shesmilesalittleguiltily.“DidImentionthatIalsostartedgoingtoatherapistthedayafterIblewupatyouoverdinner?”
“No.ButI’mproudofyou,Em.”
“Don’tbeproudofmeyet.Imightnevergoback.Thatwomandoesopenheartsurgeryinherofficeandit’spainfulashell.”
WebothlaughbeforeEmily’sexpressionsoftensagain.“YouloveAmelia,butIcantellyou’realreadygivingupbecauseyou’rescaredtodeathofherbeingtheonetodoitfirst.Don’tpushherawayandbecomeunreachablebecauseyou’reafraidtoloseher.”
Damn.She’sright.Iamdoingthat.
“Youloveher,Noah.Giveyourrelationshipeverythingyou’vegot.Reallygoforit,andmakeherapriorityinsteadofkeepingyourselfunattachedincaseyougethurt.”
“How?She’sgoingtobeallaroundtheworldforninemonths.”
Emilylaughs.“Theymakethesethingscalledairplanes.Andifyoudecidetouseone,we’llbeheretocoverforyouwhileyou’reaway.WeknowhowtotakecareofGrandmajustaswellasyoudo.Andwe’llmakesuretheshoprunssmoothly,too.Gospendsometimewithherontour.Don’tletyourbreaksapartbesolong.”
“You’dreallybeokaywithmeleavingtownmoreoften?”
“I’llgetusedtoit.Don’tworryaboutmesomuch.”Emilystandsandleansovertokissmyforehead.“Also,stopbeingagrumpyassandgetacellphone.AndWi-Fiwhileyou’reatitsoyoucantextandsendpictures.It’llhelpalot.”
IgrumbleeventhoughI’mthankfulforherinput.
“Iloveyou,Noah.”
“Loveyou,too.”Andnow,IneedtosaythosewordstoAmeliaagainface-to-face.Chapter37Amelia
There’saquickthree-tapknockonmydressingroomdoor,soIknowit’stime.
“Comein,”Iyellandthedooropens.
Clairestepsinside.“Ready?”sheaskswithabigsmileandIreturnitbecausehavingClaireasmyassistanthasalreadybeensucharelief.IfeellikeIfinallyhaveanadvocateandafriendinthisbusiness.Afriendotherthanmymom,whoishoveringaroundsomewherebackstage,flirtingwithallthestagehands.Ourrelationshipisn’tperfectyet,butit’sgettingthere.We’reslowlyuntanglingtheliesthatSusanwovearoundourrelationshipovertheyears.Afteralittledigging,Irealizedthatmymomhasn’tevenbeenacceptingmoneyfrommethelastfewyears.Allthose“requests”thatcamefromherthroughSusanwereactuallygoingrightintoSusan’spocket.Needlesstosay,Susanisgoingtoneedareallygoodlawyer.
Ialsohiredanewmanager,Keysha,apowerhousewomanwho’sbeeninthebusinessforthirtyyearsmanagingsomeofthetopartistsofmytime.ButI’vedecidedtodothingsalittledifferentthisgo-around.Idelegatemostofmypersonal-lifestufftoClaire(exceptfortalkingwithmymom,whichIdomyselfnow)andleavethebig-picturestuffuptoKeysha.IreallytrustClaire.Also,shefreakinglovesmybangs,sotakethat,Susan!
Theonlythingthat’smissingfrommyliferightnowisNoah.Imisshimsomuchalready.Imissthattown.Imisshissisters.Imisshishandsandhischestandhispajamasandhismoodyfaceandhissmileandhisabsolutelyeverything.Wetalkonthephone,butnotnearlyasmuchasI’dlike,andthelastfewtimesI’vetriedtocallhim,I’veonlygottenhisansweringmachine.It’spossiblehe’sbusy,butmorethanlikely,he’spullingaway.
Buttonightistheopeningofthetour,andIhavetofocus.ItstartsinmyveryownNashville,Tennessee,playingasold-outshowatBridgestoneArena.Afterthisone,wehopinthetourbusandgotoAtlanta,andthenHoustonbeforehoppingonaninternationalflighttoLondon.I’llspendafewmonthsontheinternationallegofthetour,andthenhaveashortbreakbeforefinishingwiththeremainderoftheU.S.portion.Iknowthatbytheendofallthis,I’llbeburnedoutandexhaustedalloveragainandreadytoescapebacktoRome,Kentucky,toseemyfavoritepeople—butfornow,I’mtakingcareofmyselfandenjoyingtheride.
“Youready,Freddy?”saysClairebecauseshe’ssortofdorkyinthemostsupportivekindofway.Andbestofall,shenevercallsmeRae.FiringSusanwasthesmartestthingI’veeverdone,secondonlytodrivingmycarintoNoah’sfrontyard.
“I’mready.”Istandandsliponmyearpiece.Myshort,sparklysilverdressglintsinthedressingroomlight,andImakesuremyheelsaresecuredtomyankles.
ClaireandIleavethedressingroom.Willdropsinlinebehindus,stayinggluedtomelikehewilleverydayofthistour.ThechantingofthecrowdgrowslouderwitheverystepItakedownthebackhallwayofthearena.TherearetonsofcrewmembersscatteredaroundandwishingmeluckasIpassbythem.Ipassmymomandshesqueezesmeinatighthug,tellingmeI’mgoingtobegreat.
NomatterhowmanytimesIdothis,Ineverfailtofeelaswarmofbutterflies,adrenaline,anddownrightfearinthismoment.Butinaboutthirtyseconds,I’llbestandingdeadcenterstageinfrontoffiftythousandpeoplewaitingtowatchmeperform,andabsolutejoywilltakeover.
Backstagemybandisgatheredandwaitingforme.Istepupintotheircircleandweallholdhandsandsayaquickprayerthatnooneface-plantsonthestageandhastoberushedoffwithbloodgushingoutoftheirnose(ithappenedtomeonceandI’llneverforgetit).
Acrewmembertakesmyhandthenandhelpsmestepinsidetheriserthat’sgoingtoliftmeupwhereI’llappearinthecenterofthestage.TheroarofthecrowdissointenseIfeellikeit’sgoingtolifttheroofoffthearena.Iinsertmysecondearbudanditquietsthenoise.Shuttingmyeyes,Ibreatheinforfivemoresecondsbeforetheriserlifts.Onaninhale,IpicturemyselfstaringstraightintoNoah’swoodsyeyesandonanexhale,Iimaginehimpullingmeintohisarms.
Andthenthefloorrises.FireshootsallaroundtheportionofthestageI’llbeemergingfrom,andIknowthatwhileit’sflaming,noonecanseeme.Itake1.2secondstogetinpositionwiththemicinmyhand,andthenjustastheyaresupposedto,theflamesdissolveandeveryonecanseeme.TheaudienceeruptsandIraisemychin,smilingandlookingaroundthearena,soakingupthismoment.ThebandstartsplayingandIraisethemictomymouth.
TheonlythingthatcouldhavemadethisnightbetterisifIknewNoahwaswaitingbackstagetokissmewhentheshowisover.
—
“Thankyou,Nashville!”Iyellintothemicafterfinishingthelastsongofmyencore.Itakeafewminutes,wavingandblowingkissestoallthefans,acceptingabouquetofflowersthatgetstossedontothestageandfreezingwhenIrealizetheyaresunflowersinbrownpaperwrappingtiedwithastringoftwine.MyheartraceseventhoughIknowitshouldn’t.Butstill,IthinkofAnnieandherflowershop,andmaybe…justmaybe…Isquintoutatthecrowdtryingtoseewhotheycamefrom,butthelightsaretoobright.Whenthreemorebouquetsmakeitontothestage—allvarioustypesofflowers—IhaveconvincedmyselfthesesunflowersarenotfromNoah.
Igiveonefinalairkissandbowtothecrowdwhileclutchingthebouquettomychestandwalkoffstage.Immediately,astagehandisatmyside,givingmeatowelformysweatyforeheadandabottleofwater.Claireisthere,too,tellingmehowgreattheshowwentandgoingonaboutthecrowd,butI’mexhaustedandalittledisorientedafterbeingshockedbythisbouquetofflowers.
“Claire,”Iask,stoppingabruptlyinthemiddleofthehallway,forcinghertostopandfaceme.“Didyouhappentoseewhothrewtheseflowers?”
Sheshakesherhead.“No,sorry.Thereweretonsofpeoplethrowingbouquetstonight.Doyouwantmetohavethemallbroughtontoyourtourbus?”
Ishakemyheadandhandherthesunflowers.“Justthese.Thankyou.”
“Okay,”shesayssweetly.“Whydon’tyougorestforafewminutesinyourdressingroom?”
I’malreadyunfasteningmyheelsandthencarryingthemwithmeasIwalktowardthedressingroom.Currently,I’mwearingmylastcostumeofthenight—afloor-length,gauzydressindarkpurple.Ithaslotsoflayersthatflyallaroundmeasastagefanblows.It’smyfavoritecostumeoftheentireconcert,butrightnow,I’msweatingsohardallIwanttodoisdropittothefloorthesecondIstepintomydressingroom.
Aswewalkdownthehallway,everyoneIpassofferscongratulationsonanepictouropener,andIfeelgratefultobebackhere,doingthisanotheryear.Whenwearriveatmydressingroom,Claireopensitformeandthensmileswide.Toowide.Suspiciouslywide.
“Whydoyoulooklikethat?Didyoubooby-trapmydressingroomorsomething?IsabucketofwatergoingtodroponmethesecondIwalkin?”
Hersmileonlygrows.“Findoutforyourself.”
IcringeasIstepthroughthedoor,bracingforanyandallkindsofimpact.Water,slime,aburstoffeathers—I’mreadyforit.InevercouldhavebracedmyselffortheimpactofNoah’spresence,though.Well,Noah’sandmymom’ssinceshe’scurrentlyreleasinghimfromabighug.Shepatsthesideofhisarmandwalkstome,whispering,“He’scute!Ilikehim,”beforeleavingandshuttingthedoorbehindher.
We’realonenowandmybreathcatchesasmyeyescollidewithhis.Greenestgreenasintenseasanavalanche.He’shere.Inthisroomwithme,andallIcanthinkisDearLord,pleasedon’tletmebeseverelydehydratedandseeingthingsthataren’treallythere.Namely,NoahWalker.
“You’re…here,”Isay,stillhavingtroubleformulatingwords.
Aslowsmileunfurlsoverhislipsandhestepstowardme.Hiseyestrackthelengthofmybodyandthentomyfaceagain.“Iam.Andyouarestunning.Yourconcertwasincredib—Oof!”Islammybodyintohisbeforehecanfinishhissentenceandcrashmymouthintohis.Iwrapmyarmstightlyaroundhisneck,sohegetsthemessagethatI’mneverlettinggo.Ihopehedoesn’thavestagefrightbecauseI’mgoingtohavetoperformlikethisfromnowon.
Helaughsandencirclesmywaist,holdingmetightlytohim.
“Youwereoutthere!”IsayonceIfinallystopkissinghim.“DidyouthrowflowersfromAnnie’sshop?”
Henods.“I’msorryI’vebeendistantthisweek.”
“It’sokay.”
“No,it’snot,”hesaysashisfaceshiftsintoafrown.“EmilystoppedbytheshopyesterdayandpointedoutthatI’vehadmyheadupmyass.”IlaughbecauseIcanperfectlypictureEmilygivingNoahadressing-down.“Turnsout,I’vebeendistancingmyselffromyoubecauseIworriedthiswouldn’tworkbetweenus.”
“Ifiguredwhenmythirdcallwenttoyouransweringmachine.”
Hegrimaces.“I’msosorry.ButyouhavemywordthatI’mallinfromnowon.Nomoreplayingitsafe.IwanttogivethisrelationshipeverythingI’vegot.Andtoproveit…”Noah’shanddivesintohispocketandthenpullsoutaniPhone.Hetakesmyhand,turningitoverandplacingthephoneinmypalm.
“Yougotacellphone?”Myvoiceispureawe.Tearsareclingingtomylashes.Formostpeoplethiswouldn’tmeanmuch,butforNoah,adjustingtomoderntechnologyisonparwithchangingreligions.
“AndWi-Fiisbeinginstalledinmyhouseaswespeak.IfIhavetobeapartfromyouformonthsonend,IatleastwanttobeabletoseeyourprettysmileonFaceTime.”
“Youreallyaregettinginternetinstalledatyourhouse?”
“Yep.AndI’mgoingtoneedyoutoshowmehowtousethisdamnthing.Whyaretheresomanylittlepicturesonthescreen?”
“Thosearecalledapps.”
Hegrunts.“Idon’tlikethem.”
“We’lldeleteallofthemexceptfortheonesyouneed.”
“Istilldon’tloveit.”
IsmileandtosshisphoneontothedressingroomcouchsoIcanwrapmyarmsaroundhimagain.“I’mallin,too,justsoyouknow.”
“Good,becausethere’smore.”Herunshisfingersacrossthefringeofmybangsandthendownthebackofmyhairlikehe’ssavoringme.“Ifyourofferstillstands,I’dliketojoinyouontourmoreoften.Idon’twanttospendtheseentireninemonthswithoutyou.”
Ahappysighescapesmyear-to-earsmile.“Really?WhataboutyourgrandmaandThePieShop?”
“Iworkeditoutwithmysisters.TheywerehappytoadjustthescheduletowheretheytakemoredaysvisitingGrandma.AndIalreadyhavesomeonewhoworksweekendsformewhosaidshe’dbehappytocoverformewhileI’mgone.”
IgivehimaquickpeckonhismouthagainlikeI’mprovinghisfrowndoesn’texistnow.“Whataboutthisweek?Couldyoutakeoffandcomewithmetothenexttwoshows?”
Hebendsandkissesmycheek.Andthenmyjaw.Andthenmyneck.“IwasreallyhopingyouweregoingtoofferthatbecauseClairealreadyhadmybagtakentoyourtourbus.”
Ajoyfullaughspillsoutofme.Alongwithanembarrassingamountofhappytears.“Areyoukidding?WearegoingtoplaysomuchScrabblenow!”
Hiskissesturnhotter—blazingoneafteranotherupthelineofmythroatwhilehisbighandcupsmybacksideandsqueezesplayfully.“Idon’tknow…Iwasthinkingofsomethingelsewecoulddothatwouldbemorefun.”
Igiveadelightedhum,tellinghimjusthowmuchIapproveofthatidea.
Hepullsawaylongenoughtogivemeaslantedsmile.“Finishthebookwewerereadingtogether,obviously…whatdidyouthinkIwasmeaning?”
Ikisshim.Slowlyandtenderly.“Oh,me,too.Readingforsure.”USWEEKLYTOPHEADLINERAEROSECONFIRMSENGAGEMENTINCRYPTICSOCIALMEDIAPOST
FormonthsfanshavespeculatedonthepossiblerelationshipbetweenRaeRoseandthemysterymanwhowasspottedwithherinasmalltowninKentuckybeforeherworldtourbegan.Thingsseemedtoheatuponhertour,astheywerephotographedtogetherholdinghandswhilegettinginandoutofvehicles,andevensharingalingeringkissinlineatacoffeeshopinFrance.AnyonewhosawthephotocanconfirmthatthekisswasmostdefinitelyFrench.
Sincetheendofhertourtheprincessofsoulfulpophasdisappearedfromthepubliceye,onlytweetingthedayafterherfinalconcertthatshelovesherfansdearlyandistakinganextendedstepoutofthespotlighttorestandrecover.Thesingerhasnotbeenseenorheardfromforthreemonths,untilyesterday,whenshebrokehersocialmediahiatusandpostedanInstagramphotoofherhandclaspedwithaman’s—agorgeousprincesscutengagementringgracingherfinger.Thecaptionread:“WheninRome…”leavingfansbuzzingwithanticipationandhungryformorenews.
IsRaeRoseofficiallyoffthemarket?Andcoulditbethatshe’sbeenhidinginRome,Italy,allthistime?TomygrandmaBetty.Iwishyoucouldhavereadthisone,becauseyouwouldhavelovedMabel.ImissyouandyoursmileandyourSantaClaussweater.Acknowledgments
Ihadhighhopesofwritingabeautiful,elegantacknowledgmentsection,butafterfinishingwhatendedupbeingabeastofabookforme,I’mnothingbutathankful,blubberingmess.Thisbookwasanemotionalrollercoasterforme—stretchingmeandgrowingmycraftinwaysthatfeltimpossibletomeattimes.Itwouldn’tbeinyourhandstodaywithouttheteamofpeoplewhoencouragedmetofinishit,andthenhelpedmetransformitfromapileofnonsenseintoabookthatI’mincrediblyproudof.
First,Iwanttothankmybrilliant,kindpowerhouseofaneditor,ShaunaSummers.Iwillneverstopbeingthankfulthatyouwantedtobemyeditor.Thankyouforyourencouragement,handholding,andmakingAmeliaandNoah’sstoryasbeautifulasitis!I’mconvincedyou’rethebesteditorintheentireworld,andIdon’tdeserveyou!
Next,tomyincredibleagent,KimLionetti,THANKYOU!Thankyouforreadingthefewmessyearlychaptersofthisbookandseeingthepotentialinitandforsteeringmeintherightdirectiontofinishthedamnthing.Istillcan’tbelieveyouevenansweredthatfirstemailfrommeandcontinuetonomatterhowmanyridiculousonesIsendyou.??You’rethebest.TeamKimforlife!Andahugethank-youtotheentireBookendsteam!
Tomylovely,incredibleUKeditor,KateByrne,I’msohonoredthatyoulovedandwantedtopublishmybooks!I’mstillpinchingmyselfandsogratefulforyoursupport.
TomyentireteamatDell:TaylorNoel,CorinaDiez,JordanPace,MaeMartinez,LaurieMcGee,andsomanyotherswhoI’msureI’mmissing;ahugebearhugtoyouall!I’msothankfultobeworkingwitheachofyou.
AmberReynolds,Ithinkyou’vebeta-readeachofmyrom-comsnow.I’mconvincedyou’remyluckygem,andtherefore,you’reneverallowedtostop.I’msorry,butyouhavetocontinuereadingmyterribledrafts,becauseIloveyouandneedyou.Seriously,thankyou!!You’rethebest.I’msogratefulforyou.
ToAshleyandCarina,mybestma’ams,whomIlovelikesisters,thankyouforbeingyourselvesandlettingmeclingtoyouguyslikeanannoyingbarnacle.ToChloe,Becs,Devin,Jody,Gigi,Martha,Summer,Aspen,Rachel,Sophie—youallmakethiscareeronehundredtimesbetter.I’mincrediblythankfulforyourfriendship!
Andtomyreadersandbookstagramcommunity!!!HowdoIadequatelysaythankyouforallthelove,support,tweets,posts,reviews,emails,aestheticboards,andencouragingDMs?!Grace,Katie,Morgan,Molly,Addie,Marisol,Alison,Madison,andsomanyothers!Thebiggest,mostheartfeltthank-you!
Tomyfamily:Yoursupportmeanseverythingtome.Thankyouforencouragingmetokeepgoing,andIreallyhopeyouskippedallthesteamyparts.
Andlast,butmostimportanttome,myhusband,ChrisAdams.Mybestfriend,myfavoriteworkcolleague,mypartner,myeye-candy,mybiggestcheerleader,myabsolutefavoritepersoninthisentireworld:Iloveyou.(IsitcheatingonourgameifIsayinfinityandbeyondinabook?Probably,soI’llrefrain.)
XO,
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TheEnemy
TheMatchAbouttheAuthor
SarahAdamswasbornandraisedinNashville,Tennessee.Shelovesherfamily,warmdays,andmakingpeoplesmile.Sarahhasdreamedofbeingawritersinceshewasagirl,butshefinallywroteherfirstnovelwhenherdaughterswerenappingandshenolongerhadanyexcusestoputitoff.Sarahisacoffeeaddict,aBritishhistorynerd,amomoftwodaughters,marriedtoherbestfriend,andanindecisiveintrovert.Herhopeistoalwayswritestoriesthatmakereaderslaugh,maybeevencry—butalwaysleavethemhappierthanwhentheystartedreading.
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