For the next few minutes, as I listen to Addy go on about Cabo, I weigh up my after-meet options: catch an uber to my dorm before Noah walks out or wait and face the problem head-on. I know which option I think I'd prefer, but then that's only delaying the inevitable. Sooner or later, I'll be forced to face him, so it might as well be tonight.
I turn to Addy, ignoring the steadily rising anger in my chest, and gently tap her arm. "I need to run inside to use the bathroom. I'll be back in a second, okay?"
"We'll wait here for you," she says before squeezing my arm, and then I'm hurrying into the Spieler Complex as fast as I can without drawing suspicion. This is it, I tell myself, the last time I'll let Noah get under my skin. From now on, we need boundaries, and for better or worse, tonight is the night I'm going to set them.
I cross the foyer, relishing in the harsh smell of chlorine and recalling the adrenaline I'd feel as my teammates and I made our way, one by one, into the locker room. Lockers would slam, and the nervous chatter of my fellow swim team would fuel my excitement in a way that I've missed. That's the thing about teammates: whether you win or lose the meet, you do everything together, which is why Noah's absence is concerning.
The door to the locker rooms sits up ahead. I take a deep breath and quietly push it open, pausing to let my eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent lights. The room is quiet, except for the occasional sound of dripping water from the showers in the back, and the chlorine scent I'd smelled a moment prior is replaced by dampness and soap.
That's when I spot him leaning on one of the lockers, his wet hair falling in thick strands over his forehead and his broad shoulders glistening with water. I step closer and pause, taking in his shirtless upper half and fitted gray sweatpants. I'd never admit it, at least not out loud, but beyond my fury over what Pax said, there's a part of me that's happy to see him.
He turns his head as I begin to approach him, the frown that had previously been playing on his lips swiftly tugging at the corners. "As happy as I am to see you, Coach would murder us both if he knew you were in here."
"Yeah, well, only you'd deserve it," I say.
He opens his mouth, no doubt ready to argue his point, but his attention is drawn to the Tigers jacket draped around my shoulders. His eyes darken, roving over the emblem emblazoned on the front right pocket.
The shift in his demeanor is instant. I look down at myself, folding my arms across the dreaded tiger emblem like I'd forgotten I was wearing it. Obviously, in hindsight, showing up in his competitor's jacket isn't the smartest idea, but it's too late to rectify it now.
His eyes flutter closed as he slowly exhales. "Did you come here just to torture me, Blue?"
In the silence that follows, my eyes trace the contours of his body, taking in every muscle from his clenched, taut neck down to his chiseled torso. The sinews in his arms and chest are coiled, his veins bulging with effort as he fights to keep his composure.
"I came here to find out why Pax is under the impression we're together," I say, and the anger I've been fighting to suppress quickly rises to the surface. "What exactly are you trying to do, Noah?"
"What am I trying to do?" Noah storms forward, forcing me back until I'm up against the locker and cutting off any chance of escape. "You show up in the Calbears locker room wearing his fucking jacket. What are you trying to do, Blue?"
I open my mouth before wetting my lips, acutely aware of how dry my throat feels. Boundaries, I think. Something about boundaries. "I was cold, and he offered me his jacket, which is beside the point. What were you thinking hitting him, Noah? You could have gotten yourself disqualified."
"I was thinking that guy's an asshole," he says flatly, "and I was right. Do you even know what happened?"
I fold my arms, pretending for a moment that his sudden proximity has no effect on my body, but my heart feels like a jackhammer. "Peter said you asked about me, and you got jealous and hit him."
The laugh that leaves his mouth unnerves me. "And of course you believed him, because you're determined to see the worst in me."
I don't say anything, not even to argue, because deep down, he's right. In a twisted way, believing the worst in someone like Noah makes future heartache easier to heal from. It's when you least expect it, when you give your heart to someone you trust, that it ends up in pieces.
"He told me he was the reason you drowned," Noah says slowly, "and I lost it. Pax and the rest of them saw what happened and figured it meant I liked you."
Confused, I look up at him, searching for any signs of dishonesty, but there are none. "Why did he tell you that?"
"Why do you think? He wanted to get to me before the meet, and he knew the only way to do it was through you."
I'm silent for a moment as the guilt kicks in. Hearing that Peter goaded him into fighting surprises me, but what's worse is that it shouldn't. The truth is, it's not like I ever really knew Peter, not any more than I know Noah, so why was I so quick to believe him?
No, I know why. Believing the worst in Noah is safer. Trusting him? That's when I could wind up getting hurt. "I'm sorry," I say finally, and I mean it. In my efforts to deny my feelings, I've ended up hurting his, and that's not what I wanted at all.
I start to turn, wanting to escape before things get any worse, but Noah grabs my hand and spins me back. He doesn't say anything for a full minute. Instead, he leans closer, pressing me firmly back against the locker before resting his forehead on mine.
"I need to walk away from you," he mutters, almost to himself. "Before I go completely insane."
I should be nodding along – he's right after all – but the sinking of my heart betrays me. "Then why don't you?"
"Because," he says and snakes his hand behind my head, gripping the nape of my neck, "I can't."
There's a sharp crackle of electricity between us. Panic sets in, but the voice in my head that likes to pretend she's reasonable is nowhere to be found. I take a deep breath, my heart racing as Noah grabs my waist, pulling me closer. And then, before I can protest, he's leaning in and kissing me, his lips soft and warm against mine.
I close my eyes, having no idea what I'm doing but knowing that not doing it would feel wrong. Noah holds me tighter, sliding his hands down my hips to my ass and holding me in his palms. I tilt back my head, surprised by the jolt of heat in my chest as he blows out a rough breath of air.
"I don't know if you know this," he mutters in the hollow of my neck, "but I think I like you, Blue."
My chest expands with a lungful of his scent. I pull him closer, those words having the power to elicit more heat in my body than his touch, which somehow excites me and terrifies me at once.
I kiss him harder, surprised by the lash of hunger behind them. Wrong, wrong, wrong, my head starts to scream, but my body has other ideas. I push against him, excited by the rush of breath that escapes his mouth. His eyes turn hooded, and his finger traces the waistband of my pants before popping the button. I suck in a breath, one that elicits a groan from him.
Mouth to my ear, his breath comes hot and heavy on my skin. "This is the part where you tell me you like me back, Blue."
A sense of impending doom overcomes me as I try not to lose my train of thought. It's one thing admitting to myself that I like him, but admitting it to Noah? That's not dangerous, it's self-sabotage.
"Never," I say, and the smoke in his eyes quickly turns to a challenge. I don't know why - from the way my body responds to his touch, he knows it already. He just wants to make me suffer.
Before I can speak, his fingers are dipping inside of my pants and brushing the hem of my underwear. I swallow hard, torn between pushing his fingers away and wanting to guide them closer, not that it matters. He makes the decision for me, shifting his thumb until its stroking me through the material.
I let out a gasp, surprised by the quick, tiny pulses shooting through me. Noah pulls back, intent on watching as I take my bottom lip and pull it between my teeth. With another rough exhale, he pinches the delicate material in his fingers, about to pull it aside when the locker room door creaks.
Never in my life have I moved so fast. I grab Noah's hand in what can only be described as a state of sheer panic, yanking him behind some lockers before quickly buttoning my pants. If there is ever such a thing as divine intervention, please, please let it be now.
"Noah," Jesse calls in the silence. "Are you still in here, man?"
My eyes widen, and I firmly press my palm to Noah's mouth, terrified we'll be caught. Noah, on the other hand, is as cool and unaffected as always. I feel him grin, his eyes flashing with devilment as he pulls me in closer, snaking his arms around my waist. If I wasn't so afraid, I'd pull back.
"Noah?"
The footsteps get closer before retreating again. When the door clicks, I pull away from Noah and lean against a locker before letting out the breath I've been holding. He slips in front of me, grinning down at me like a damn Cheshire cat, because obviously, my suffering is funny to him.
"It's not funny," I say, my heart still palpitating. "Do you think he'll still be out there?" I start to turn, but Noah's already slipping in front of me.
"Not so fast," he says, guiding me back, and suddenly, he's serious. "I told you before I could take it slow, and I meant it, but I need you to give me something, Blue. Anything."
I shake my head, because we don't have time for this. "I need to get back out there before someone realizes we're together."
He wilfully ignores me, walking me back until I'm trapped under his arms again. "How about we start with something easy," he says, but easy and Noah don't mix. "Do you like spending time with me?"
I sigh and lean back, waiting a few moments before deciding his question is innocent enough. If I didn't like spending time with him, I wouldn't - it's not exactly a groundbreaking confession. "Yes. Can we go now?"
The corner of his mouth twitches. He waits a moment, allowing his hand to tangle in my hair before he swiftly drops his gaze. "What about when I kiss you?"
I take a deep breath, unsure if it's wise to admit to the truth, but I find myself nodding anyway.
He skims my face, trailing his thumb across my jaw before tucking my hair back. "What about when I touch you?"
I feel the blush as it creeps through my cheeks and spreads down my neck. After a few moments, I nod, expecting to find an arrogant grin in return, but I don't. Instead, he's relieved.
"Then we'll start there," he says, sounding determined. "But Blue?"
I force myself to look at him, terrified he'll say or do something else to unravel me. "What?"
"If you don't take that jacket off, I'm going to lose my fucking mind."
I smile a little, about to take it off, when he peels it from my shoulders, scrunching it into a ball before tossing it aside with a little too much enthusiasm.
"Come on," he says and grabs my hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. "Let's get out of here."
"We can't walk out together. I'll just see you at your party later."
"Not there," he clarifies. "Anywhere else."
Despite the apparent easiness of his voice, it's hard not to notice the tension in his muscles. I want to push it, to find out exactly why he doesn't want to celebrate with the others, but I let it go. "What about the rooftop?"
His mouth stretches into a wide, boyish grin. "Alright, rooftop it is."
My heart flips, and the army of butterflies I've fought to suppress flap their way to the surface. "Fine, I'll meet you there, but Noah?" I wait until I have his full attention before adding, "You need to keep your hands to yourself."
He flashes a wicked grin in return, one I'm not entirely sure is akin to an okay, but there's no time to dwell. Afraid I'll back out, I hurry back to Addy without a second look, painfully aware of the voice in my head screaming This won't end well. But right now?
I don't think I care.
A/N
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