Chapter Twenty-Seven

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It turned out that furniture shopping with Noah took less time than I would normally spend picking a birthday card.

In the very first shop we went in he spotted a plain, black wooden king size frame with mattress included, and called a sales assistant over to ask about same-day delivery. Seeming unsure of the correct answer and relatively intimidated by Noah's no-nonsense attitude, I gave the young sales guy a sympathetic smile then wandered off to browse around the rest of the shop.

I returned back to the counter just in time to see Noah paying for his new purchase. With cash. I then saw him slip a note into the guy's hand separately and couldn't help laughing to myself about what a wheeler-dealer he was. I'd have bet any money that bed would be at Noah's house before we even made it back ourselves.

After grabbing some lunch at a cute, family-run sandwich bar rather than in the sterile canteen of the furniture shop, we got back into Noah's car and he began programming his own address into his phone.

"Can we swing by my place?" I asked, "I need to check in on Charlotte."

"Sure," Noah replied, smiling. "You'll probably need to pick up another change of clothes for tomorrow as well."

Rolling my eyes at him, I couldn't pretend his comment offended me all that much. Falling asleep in just the same room as him last night had been so intimate, that the thought of falling asleep in the same bed made my stomach flip.

As we pulled up outside my flat, the living room curtains were still drawn. I quietly turned my key in the flat door and peered down the hallway into the living room, where Charlotte and Alex were curled up on the sofa under the white fur blanket, holding each other tightly as they slept.

Pulling the door to, I turned to Noah and whispered. "You go back to the car, I'll be out in two minutes."

Doing as I said, he headed back down the stairs as I crept silently into my room. I quickly grabbed a few more clothes and spare knickers, then stalked back out on tiptoes, making sure to scrawl a quick note to Charlotte on the heart-shaped chalkboard that hung by the front door.

"They must have been up all night talking," I informed Noah as I climbed back into the car next to him.

"I told you, they'll sort it out between them eventually," he replied nonchalantly, flicking through his phone to find the music he wanted to play.

Eventually, he settled on John Mayer's Edge of Desire. One of my favourites, although he couldn't possibly have known that. As Noah absent-mindedly sang along quietly, I realised the similarities in both their voices. Raw, rough and downright sexy, but with pain and regret from past experiences adding sadness and humanity to their tone.

As I sat in the passenger seat, watching him from the corner of my eye, I couldn't resist joining in with a harmony when the chorus began. Glancing over with a surprised smile on his face, Noah's voice grew louder, as did mine. After a couple of lines, we were both singing at the top of our lungs, our voices blending perfectly in harmony.

If anyone had seen us, I'm pretty sure it would have been the cheesiest thing since Stilton was invented. But, with music being the one passion I knew we shared for certain, it felt natural to be creating such a beautiful sound together.

As the song reached its solo, Noah turned down the volume with a huge grin across his face.

"Check you out!" he laughed. "It's been so long since I heard your voice, I forgot you had chops like that."

Laughing back, I reached over to place my hand across his on the gearstick.

"We should write together," he suddenly exclaimed. "I want to hear more of your stuff. You could teach me how to write lyrics like yours. You know, deep stuff."

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