Songs for this chapter are:
Meet Virginia - Train
Metal Roses- Emily Wolfe
Before You Were Mine- Emily Wolfe
Rear View- Zayn
....
"So, do I have time to change before we go to this place?" I ask Nora as I clock out. Posey is standing in the break room, tying her apron. Lila isn't with her today, so I hope that means her grandma's health is improving. Posey smiles at me and Nora as we leave and I'm happy to know that Cree, the newest employee to Grind, is coming to relieve Aiden in an hour. Posey can tolerate Aiden better than anyone, but Cree is much more pleasant.
"Nope. No time to change," Nora's eyes rake over my stained gray t-shirt.
I follow Nora out of the door and onto the sidewalk. The sun is out today. It's not warm, but not as chilly as it will tonight. September weather in New York is my favorite weather. Football season and good weather, what more can I ask for? To be honest, I haven't watched any games so far this season. It's different now that Ken's not around. Watching the games was something we did together. Sports were the bricks that built our father-son relationship. Well, the closest thing to a father-son relationship I've ever had.
"I want to give you the proper welcome to Brooklyn. Have you been to Juliette in Williamsburg? Or the flash frozen ice cream place?"
I shake my head. I haven't done much of anything involving leaving my apartment since I moved here. I've walked and jogged around my neighborhood plenty, but I haven't actually been inside many places. Who would I go with, anyway? Tessa is so busy working and I haven't had the chance to make any friends here yet. No one on campus talks to me much. Every once in a while I get a random person asking me for directions, but that's it. WCU would have probably been the same if Tessa wouldn't have introduced herself to me.
"I haven't heard of either," I tell her. She seems pleased and eager to take me wherever she has planned.
"Where were you going last night? When I followed you?" I ask Nora while we wait for the crosswalk.
"Well, straight to the point," she laughs.
I wait for her to answer but her lips stay closed. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
She shakes her head and touches her finger to the tip of my nose. "Nope."
I should care that she's hiding something from me. I should ask more questions about the secrets she hides, I know that I should.
Instead, I ask, "So, Juliette? What is it exactly?"
Nora seems pleased with my transition of topics. I promised her before that I wouldn't try to fix her and it's easier to keep that promise if I don't pry into her life.
This plan is awesome, except the small fact that I want to know everything about this woman. I want to know how many sugars she puts in her coffee and what her favorite song is. I want to hear how it sounds when she sings mindlessly and I need to know how long it takes her to get out of bed in the morning. I have an obsessive, over powering need to know everything about her and she's going to drive me completely insane by not giving me what I need.
When we arrive at the French bistro, named Juliette, Nora is bursting with excitement. "This place is the best. Everyone says that Le Barricou is better, but don't let them fool you. Just because Yelp says so, doesn't make it true."
"What's Yelp?" I ask, trying to keep up with Nora's quick feet. The chalkboard sign on the sidewalk says, Try Our Tuscan Kale Salad. A little green leaf is drawn next to the words.
Oh, so the French have adapted the California-Leaf-Eaters way of life, too. Okay, so that society doesn't exist... Well, it probably does, I just don't have any proof. And isn't Tuscany a region in Italy? Some French bistro...
Nora walks in front of me and passes through the doorway. She turns around to face me just before she reaches the host stand.
"You have so much to learn, young one," Nora laughs, and turns back around. I glance around the restaurant and Nora tells the hostess that we need a table for two.
The young woman grabs two menus and begins to explain the specials of the day while leading us to a small circle table near the back of the room. "Is your rooftop open?" Nora asks before she sits down.
The hostess looks around the room. "Not yet. It opens at four. We do have the terrace you can sit in."
Nora smiles at her and shakes her head yes. "Yes. Please."
The woman leads us up a set of stairs and to a space that looks like a garden. Pots of plants hang from the ceiling, nearly touching the table tops. The terrace is nearly empty, only one table is occupied.
"Perfect. Thank you so much." Nora is polite.
I really like that she's so nice to people in the food industry. It reminds me of my theory that everyone should have to work as a server at least once in their life. It also reminds me of the time Dakota had a melt down at Steak and Shake in Saginaw because her burger came with onions when she asked for none. I was embarrassed, but sat quietly as she raised her voice at the manager, asking for her food to be taken off her bill.
She felt like a jerk after we left.
I didn't disagree with her.
I sit down across from Nora. The metal chair makes a loud noise when I scoot it closer to the table. The menu is small, lunch only. There are more cocktails than meals printed here.
"I always get the same thing," Nora says, reaching across the table. She points to some kind of peppers and then to cauliflower something. I only recognize a few things on the entire menu. Is the menu in French?
"I'm getting the shishito peppers and cauliflower and leek gratin, and pomme frites. I love everything here. I always order way too much food," she laughs and tucks her hair behind her ear.
"I... I'm going to get..." I see the word 'burger' and point to it. "I don't think I know what anything on the menu is," I laugh in an attempt to hide my embarrassment.
Nora sits her menu down and moves her chair closer to the table. It doesn't make an awful noise like mine did.
The host walks back to our table with a pitcher of water in her hands. There are sliced cucumbers and ice inside the water pitcher. What is this place? Can I even afford to eat here? I'm definitely not in Saginaw anymore.
Nora thanks the host again and she tells us that someone named Irene will be with us shorty. The more I look around, the terrace room is really pretty cool. Green leaves pouring out of wicker baskets hang over nearly every inch of the place.
"Which things don't you know?" Nora asks, her hand on my menu between us.
I look over the menu. Words like 'Croque-Monsieur' and 'Pomme frites' laugh at me from the pages.
"Basically everything except the burger," I admit.
Nora is a trained chef. She probably thinks I'm an idiot. Though, if she does, she isn't showing it. Her face is relaxed, her lips ample and pink. Her eyes look up to mine and she runs her tongue over her lips. I look away quickly before I forget my own freaking name.
"Most of these dishes are pretty simple. Restaurants just use fancy words so they can charge us twenty dollars for a ham and cheese sandwich. That's what this is." She taps her finger on the croque thing.
"And this," she looks up at me again. "These, pomme frites are literally just French fries."
Either I'm really damn hungry, or Nora's culinary lesson is incredible hot. She's so smart, too smart for me, I think.
"You should get the burger. I'm going to order a couple things that I want you to try. But don't read them on the menu because they sound disgusting," Nora says.
She smiles when she notices the worried expression on my face. "I won't order anything too out there," her finger taps the tip of my nose.
Why does she always do that? And why is it so adorable?
Irene, our pretty server with dark lipstick and a Spanish accent takes our order. Nora does me a favor and orders all of our food. Her voice changes when she orders the food and I sit, enchanted into silence, until Nora begins a new conversation.
"Have you been to France?" Nora asks, her eyes scanning the French themed décor on the walls.
I shake my head. Have I been to France? She asked so casually, like she was asking if I had been to the grocery store on the corner.
"No. I haven't been. You?" My voice is shaking.
Why can't I just be calm and cool, even for a little bit.
"I have. I've been twice with my family for vacation. But I've only seen the typical touristy things. I want to see the real France. I want to go where the French people go. Not where you pay thirty dollars for a glow in the dark Eiffel Tower statue. I want to eat real crepes and try my best to speak French. I want to have coffee that doesn't need a packet of sugar." Nora takes a breath and covers her mouth.
"I ramble a lot," she laughs. I take a drink of my water and try to think of something smart to say.
I'm fresh out of smart, well-traveled words, so I ask another question. "Does your family travel a lot?"
I know very little about her family. I know that her parents live down the street from my mom and Ken and that her dad is a surgeon and wanted her to be one. She doesn't share much, and when she does, she gives me tiny little clues that I have to piece together.
"Yeah. They do. My sister is pregnant right now, so we aren't going on our usual trip for Christmas, but we usually take one or two a year. I didn't go on the last one because of the wreck-" Nora pauses for a moment. She feels as if she's said too much. I can tell.
"But now that Stausey is pregnant and due a week before Christmas, my dad thinks it's best to stay here." There's a hint of frustration in Nora's voice but again, I don't know enough to know where it stems from.
Wreck?
Pregnant sister?
"How old is your sister?" I walk on eggshells.
"Thirty. Five years older than me. It's her first child with her husband, Todd. That baby is going to be the most spoiled little thing," Nora's smile is soft now. I can tell she likes the idea of being an aunt.
"Speaking of," Nora runs her fingers over the condensation on her glass. "You'll have a little sister soon. How's your mom doing?"
Nora is so good at redirecting conversations that by the time I noticed she did, we were nearly done eating. Turns out, she was right about the food. Every single thing was delicious. The cauliflower and leek casserole was my favorite and I'm not even one-hundred-percent sure what a leek is.
I felt guilty while shoving the burger down my throat, knowing that Nora doesn't eat meat. The thought had slipped my mind when I ordered. It wasn't until I offered her a bite of mine that I remembered. Even still, it was too good to not eat. I just made sure not to talk with my mouth full.
"You have to try this last thing and I'll leave you alone," Nora tells me when I clear my plate. I don't like the sound of that, of her leaving me alone. "Only for now," she clarifies and I bite back a smile.
She dips her fork into a bowl with burnt cheese crusted around the edges. "Close your eyes," she says and I do just that.
Something mushy and warm touches my lips and I open my mouth.
"Keep your eyes closed," Nora instructs. I smell onion as I use my teeth to pull the food from the fork. I chew the soggy bite in my mouth and the taste is good, despite the texture.
"This is just onion soup, nothing too special. Do you like it?" Nora's voice sounds even better with my eyes closed.
I nod and open my mouth for more. I keep my eyes closed and she feeds me another bite. I don't think about the other table near us. I don't even consider that the server could come back at any moment. Right now, all I can focus on is Nora's ability to make eating onion soup sexy. I swear she could touch a tree and I would find it appealing.
Seconds pass, minutes maybe, without interruptions. "Have you traveled anywhere, Landon?"
I shake my head and open my eyes. "I went to Florida once when I was younger. My aunt Reese and her husband took me to Disney World. I got food poisoning the second day though, so I was sick the entire time. I ended up watching Disney movies from my bed in the hotel."
My aunt Reese felt so bad for me, she even brought gifts from the gift shop and decorated my room. On the the nightstands were two Mickey Mouse stuffed animals and the table was covered in a beach towel with Cinderella's castle printed on it.
"That's awful," Nora says. She's sitting so much closer than I remembered her being before I closed my eyes. Her elbows are on the table and she's leaning forward enough that I wouldn't even have to lean up to touch her face.
She's so beautiful.
"If you could go anywhere, where would you go?"
Just before I answer, Irene comes back over to our table and clears the plates in front of us. "Can I get you anything else? Would you like to see the dessert menu?" She asks.
"I'll have an espresso. Do you want one?" Nora asks me.
"Sure?"
Irene smiles at me. "Two espressos. Got it."
"It's a thing people do in Europe. They sometimes have coffee after their meal," Nora tells me.
"I really like how smart you are." I say and Nora smiles at me from across the table. She leans back, distancing herself from me.
"I really like how smart you are, too."
"I couldn't read the menu," I laugh, reminding her.
She lowers her eyes, keeping them on mine. "You know a lot of things that I don't know. You're a good student and have read ten times more books than I have. Just because you can't read a fancy menu or haven't traveled the world, doesn't mean you aren't smart."
I hadn't expected the conversation to take such a serious turn. Nora seems upset now. Her lips are pursed and her brows are crumpled together. "Did I say something?" I ask her.
"No," she responds. I look up at the basket of leaves, sort of hoping it would fall on my head so this conversation will end. "Well, yes. You do this thing where you put yourself down all the time. I don't even know if you notice that you do it, but every time I compliment you, you try to find holes in it. Who told you that you weren't good enough, that's what I want to know," she lowers her voice further. "So I can have a nice long talk with them."
Irene drops our espressos off at our table, along with the bill and Nora and I reach for it at the same time.
"Let me." I ask, half expecting her to fight me over it.
She surprises me when she doesn't and we drink our coffee in near silence. There wasn't ever a person who told me anything like what she assumes. Not that I can remember. I'm not the most confident guy in the world by any means, but I didn't realize just how much I put myself down and I don't know how to fix it.
When we leave the bistro, Nora takes a picture of the outside of the building. I don't ask her why and she doesn't share.
"So, I think we should skip the ice cream place," Nora says, patting her stomach. Her denim shirt is buttoned all the way up and I can see the outline of a dark bra now that we are back in the sunlight.
Nora's phone rings and she stares at the screen, her face falls. "I have to go."
Right now? In the middle of my Welcome to Brooklyn Tour?
"Now?" I ask her. I step toward her, taking her hand in mine. I worry that she may pull away, but she doesn't. Her hands are warm in mine.
I straighten my back and look down at her. "You have to go now?"
She nods. "I need to go to Scarsdale. I shouldn't be gone all day."
"What's in Scarsdale? Is that where you're staying now? You never told me what happened with Dakota and Maggy."
Nora squares her shoulders and threads her fingers through mine. "And you never told me why you two broke up."
She's changing the subject again. "I don't want to talk about Dakota." I tell her. There are at least one hundred things I would rather be doing than talking about Dakota right now.
Nora leans up on her toes, her lips are only inches from my ear. "And I don't want to talk about Scarsdale," she whispers.
"You never want to talk about anything," I say. She leans into me and I melt, warming to her body against mine. "I want to know you. Let me."
Nora lifts her face to mine and I forget that we are on a crowded sidewalk. "I'm trying."
Her lips are soft as they brush over mine. "I'll come," Nora's words are delicate and she speaks with her lips still on mine, "by your place in a few hours. Okay?"
I nod, unable to say much of anything, and she disappears.
...
While I make my way back to my apartment, I can still feel Nora's lips on mine and I can still smell the coconut scent of her hair. She's so confusing, so frustrating and addictive. While I'm in the elevator, I briefly consider turning around and heading to the subway. I could find my way to Scarsdale now that I've been there.
Would she be upset if I did?
Yes, I'm positive that she would be.
My apartment is empty when I get there. I know Tessa is at work, but I assumed Hardin would be here. I'm sort of glad that I can have some time alone to think about Nora and who she is, what she's hiding.
Was our lunch today be considered a date? I paid for it and she fed me. Nora literally fed me and the memory of it is still scorching through me. I need a distraction, if I sit here thinking about Nora feeding me, Nora kissing me, I'll go insane.
I walk into the kitchen and grab a Gatorade and sit down on my couch. Hardin's binder is on the table, taking up the entire thing. I move it over and in the process, a few pages fall. I grab one and don't even bother to decipher his scratchy handwriting. What is all this? My curiosity gets the best of me and I find myself looking through the pages. It looks like some sort of diary that I should most definitely not be snooping through.
From that day on, his words bled from his veins. It was unstoppable, no matter how much pressure he applied to the wound. The words bled from him, staining page by page with his memories of her.
I put the page down and shove it back into the binder. I don't know what this is, but I'm positive that Hardin wants to keep it that way.
(I'm updating tomorrow! Happy Tuesday! Also, my very very last warning for this book: I write books with sexy things, dark things, addictions, and deaths. I'm not capable of writing happy, light books, and I'm okay with that. Keep that in mind if you want to continue reading this :)
Also, I edited something and all the comments toward the end deleted *cries*