Bailey and Noah have this arrangement. They can sleep together as much as they want, but they never stay for the morning after. But what happens when Noah breaks that arrangement?
//this was the first book I wrote after coming back to Wattpad. I was...
"Noah, where's my ring?" I ask, holding up my hand to show him that my ring is missing. "I had it on before you pushed me in, I can't lose it my grandpa gave it to me!"
He had, it was my grandma's. He gave it to me on his death bed as he cried tears of joy at the thought of seeing her again. It broke my heart so much to see him like that. Especially when he was so hopeful. But he knew how much she meant to me, so he gave me the ring to remind me of them both. I would actually lay my life down for this ring. No words can ever express how much both of my grandparents meant to me.
Noah's smug look drops and he steps to the edge of the pool, peering in, "I'm sure it's there, somewhere. Don't move around too much,"
"Noah! My ring! Help me find it," My voice is merely a whine now. I force it to sound strained and panic, even going as far as to make my lip wobble like I might cry. Noah sighs, stepping closer as I float forward. With surprising reflexes, my hand shoots out and grabs his, pulling him in with me. He yelps, falling forward and causing a huge splash.
I catch Trish shaking her head at me, grinning from ear to ear. Noah resurfaces, capturing me by the waist, "You little punk!" He growls playfully in my ear, turning me to face him. His stormy gray eyes capture mine, tempting me to get lost in them.
"You guys are literally killing my vibe." Trish groans, pulling herself out of the water. "I'm gonna go drown my loneliness in cake, y'all behave yourselves while I'm gone." She gives us the stink eye.
Noah chuckles holding me against his chest. The cool water laps over me, causing me to shiver slightly. But his warmth soon sinks into my skin. My hands trail up his sides, grazing his defined muscles. His body trembles and he let's out deep sigh.
"I'm never going to get enough of you." He mumbles, pulling us to the edge where we pull ourselves out. I let my feet dangle in the water while he gets up to grab towels.
"The feeling's mutual."
We've been doing this for three years now. But every time I'm around him, I feel alive again. He gives me life, because outside of him, there's nothing, but numb. My heart doesn't beat like it does around him, strong and steady. But the thought of us having to go our separate ways kills me.
"The only thing we can do is make the most of it." He says, nudging my shoulder.
"But what are we going to do when the time comes?" I whisper, stealing a glance at his face. His eyes are clouded over and his lips are turned down in a frown.
"We can't say goodbye." Noah responds, looking into the water like it's the only thing keeping him anchored.
My eyebrows furrow, "Why not?"
"Because goodbyes are too final." He sighs, running a hand through his dripping hair, "We'll find our ways back to each other, I just know it."
I wanted to trust him. But I couldn't. Because we were starting new chapters of our lives. We'd be adults, in college. The opportunities we'd have would be hard to pass up. I couldn't ask him to hold back on the count of me. It's selfish and unfair to both of us.
I'm the type of person who likes to have a plan for everything. And when it comes to Noah, not a single one has ever worked out. My plan is for us to have one last summer together. And I'm hoping by the end, I won't have fallen deeper in love with him than I already have. Because that'll just make it harder.
￦
Waking up to an empty bed is one of the worst feelings. Especially when you fell asleep with someone beside you. My stomach sinks a little when I pat his side, finding it cold and vacant. My thoughts jump to the conclusion that he's just left for breakfast or to go home, like he normally does.
But we've spent the last two weeks together. Having movie nights, going out to sight see, walking around downtown and enjoying each other's company. Not once have I woken up to find him gone. Especially since I've come to find that he's a heavy sleeper. It's beyond me how he always managed to wake up before dawn and leave when that's what we were doing.
My suspicion only grows when I find that he is nowhere in my small house. And that his car is gone. With nothing to do, but overthink; I decide it's best I get out and do something before I really think myself into a hole. Dressing in some shorts and a plain t-shirt tucked in, I leave the house trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach.
My car and I have never had a good relationship. But it had never broken down on me, until today. Call it superstition, but I think this is a sign as to where the day is really going. After multiple attempts to start my car and a pop of the hood, I conclude that my lemon has just died.
It's dead. Gone. Rest in peace.
I'd like to leave it to rest, but I'm about 45 minutes from home on a good day, and need a jump start. Which wouldn't be a terrible thing if I were on the freeway, with lots of traffic flow. Instead, I'm on the backroads because my car can't handle going over 40MPH. Trish left for Cancun a week ago and won't be home for another week. Without Trish, my options are very limited. Leaving me with only Noah has another point of contact.
There's been radio silence from him all day. My pride argues against even trying to get help from him. But can't decide which would be a lower blow. Calling Noah for help like a damsel in distress or waiting for a stranger to drive by.
I opt for calling Noah. My fingers slightly shake as I pull up his number and press call. The phone pauses, like it usually does, instead of dialing. When my phone processes the action, the phone rings twice before I get sent to voicemail. Without leaving one, I hang up and sigh, tossing my phone into my passenger seat.
I glance back into the back seat, as if a solution would just magically appear. Instead, a memory comes to mind.
"We can't keep doing this, Noah." I whisper breathlessly, despite us being completely alone in the middle of nowhere. His hand cups my breast as his lips work wonders on my neck.
My heart hurt, because here I was, acting like a rebound for him after another one of his breakups. I can't believe I caved after him ghosting me for the last five months. But the way he holds me, with care and passion, makes it hard to recall why I'm mad in the first place.
"I've missed you," He mumbles, popping the buttons of my shirt open. His kisses trail along my collarbone and across my chest.
Through all the sexual frustration and red-hot desire; I can't help, but wonder if he missed me or just my body.
I cringe thinking about how many times Noah banged his head on the roof of the car. And the few times I did, too. Noah has been clear to me how much he appreciates my body. But there's always going to be a small part of me that wonders if that's all he really likes about me.
He cares, that's for sure. But I'm just wary of what exactly I mean to him.
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Oof, what could be going on with Noah?
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