smut scene towards the end of the chapter:
After two solid days of only getting out of the plush bed to eat and shower and dip in the hot tub once or twice, it was heartbreaking to return to the real world. It wasn't like I didn't miss my flat, with its creaky floors and quirky roommates (I wasn't sure if either of them had admitted Russo lived there yet). It was more just like I'd rather spend the rest of my life listening to Shawn drawl, soft and slow, words like "darling" and "I love you" and "don't even think about putting on clothes, Norah".
So maybe I was a little bit bitter as I stomped up the stairs to my apartment after leaving the Hamptons, Shawn close in tow behind me. I bathed in with a loud shout of,
"honey, I'm home!" There was a beat of silence. Then,
"Hope you brought birthday presents!"
"Jesus Christ," I mumbled, turning on my heel to look at Shawn, finger pointed accusingly at his chest.
"I told you. I told you. Russo is a birthday month whore. Quick, we've got to get out of here. Turn around while we have the chance." Shawn rolled his eyes and brushed past me, completely ignoring all warnings that I had spouted to him about Russo and his constant reminders of the quickly approaching date. With a quiet huff of annoyance, I crossed my arms and stomped behind him into the living room. Tyler and Russo sat sprawled across the couch. Various mugs of tea and coffee and probably alcohol sat on the coffee table, beside a huge packet of what seemed to be a script of some play and a look book from the last photo shoot at work. My bright-eyed best friend was off the couch in seconds and flinging himself into my arms.
"Norah! How was your weekend?"
"Good," I mumbled into his neck. "Really, really good."
"Details. Now, obviously." I looked over his shoulder pointedly at Shawn .
"Tomorrow at work."
"Work is for working," Tyler said, swatting my shoulder.
"When have we ever actually worked while at work?"
"Sometimes we go to meetings," he insisted with a wave of his head. "Whatever, this talk of work is boring me. We haven't gone out in like, a really long time. We're probably reaching a record of how long it's been. So. We're going out tomorrow. Already got it planned."
"Tomorrow is Monday, Tyler . We're working adults, or something like that. I don't wanna be super hungover at work." Russo scowled.
"God, when did we get so old? You're all domestic and whatnot with Shawn . Stop that."
I was pretty sure my eyes were going to bug out of my head as I looked around the room, waving my hands with a flourish at Russo and all Russo -related things in the apartment. We literally had a family portrait of Russos family hanging on our wall, right underneath Russo ' framed college diploma.
"Russo actually lives here," I said, disbelieving
. "Do not even get me started on our damn living situations. Russo might as well pay rent by now." Tyler looked somewhat confused. If he wasn't my best friend and also the reason I'd been managing to somewhat transition into the real world in the past few years, he would definitely be thrown off of our balcony.
"That doesn't make sense. But we are going out tomorrow, okay?" I flicked in between his eyebrows.
"Yeah, okay. I'm sleeping at shawn's."
"How domestic."
"You can start calling me domestic once you explain that," I shot back, pointing at the Russo family photo proudly displayed on our wall. Tyler flicked me off as I sauntered towards my bedroom to pack a bag. With a lot of clothes. Because Shawn said I had space in his closet. Ten minutes later, I managed to stuff half of my things into a tiny duffel bag and scampered back towards the living room to announce that I was ready to go. By that point, Russo had managed to drag Shawn into reading lines with him ("It's my birthday").
So while the other two men read over a script, Tyler and I settled back with glasses of wine and gossiped about anything and everything we could possibly think of. And it turned out that, even if there wasn't a jacuzzi, the real world wouldn't be so bad.
* * * *
Mornings were awful. Mornings were up there in my Top Five Most Hated Things Ever, residing at a steady number. Number one was a tie between cold coffee and the smell of bug spray. But number two, mornings, were like a personal little hell. Except when shawn's alarm rang out Marimba through the room at an early hour, mornings seemed like they might be getting a little better. Because Shawn was curled up right beside me, sleepy and slow, cheek imprinted from the pillow and hair matted down on one side. Mornings dropped down to the number three spot.
He kept his eyes pinched shut and tapped the screen of his phone until it somehow stopped, then pressed his cold nose against my collarbone and whined softly. His free hand pushed at the base of my spine and brought me closer, until we were pressed flush against one another. Mornings fell below Kidz Bop and now resided at number four on Top Five Most Hated Things Ever list. And then — there was no way he didn't know what he was doing — Shawn peeked open one of his green eyes and gave a slow, soft smile.
"Good morning, babe," He murmured. And mornings were no longer even in the Top Ten Most Hated Things Ever List, for that matter. I brushed a loose curl out of his face.
"Your hair is getting long." Shawn pouted out his lower lip.
"Mean."
"Nuh-uh," I sighed, twirling a strand. "I like it. It's nice long. You look cute."
"I am not cute, Norah."
"That, Mr. Mendes, is where you are completely wrong." He frowned again, nipping at my jawline before rolling out of bed, naked except a clingy pair of boxers and the littering of tattoos over his skin, and stretched his arms above his head with a soft yawn.
Mornings dropped out of the Top 20 Worst Things. After we both dressed (also known as, Shawn grumbled as I picked out my favorite suit of his and demanded that he wear it, while he scowled and commanded me to change out of a blouse with a low neckline), Shawn went downstairs to start his day. I did my makeup quickly before following him down, carrying my black heels in one hand and my gifted Louis Vuitton bag in another.
Before even entering, I could hear some commotion in the kitchen, and the sight that greeted me was one of the best things I'd seen in a while. Breakfast was already set on the table, toast and bacon and eggs. A cup of tea was set by one place and a cup of creamy coffee complimented the other. And to top it off, Ms. Jennifer was swatting shawn's feet off the table while he tried to stifle his giggles away from his speaker of his cell phone. And just like that, mornings were suddenly placed in my Top Five Most Favourite Things Ever List.
* * * *
Tyler was already bent over the grand charcoal table in the middle of our office, lower lip tugged into his mouth as he stared at the piles of paper on top of it. He didn't even flinch as I burst in; the only acknowledgment was that he pointed to a stack of papers on the opposite side.
"Wow," I said cheerily, "and good morning to you, my love!" He shot me an annoyed glare.
"Victoria wants to kill us, I think."
"And whats new about that?" The sound of his hand smacking against the table made me jump. A flurry of papers went up with the impact and scattered onto the floor, which only made Tyler apparently even more distressed, seeing as he collapsed back into one of the spinny chairs with a whine. I immediately placed my coffee mug on the table and went to stand behind him and massage his shoulders.
"What do we have to do? And when is the deadline? And should I go pick up some Kahlua to spike our coffee?" He tilted back his head to look up at me.
"I much prefer Irish whiskey in my coffee, thank you."
"A very respectable choice," I amended. "Now talk to me. What're we doing today?"
"Well, first we have to meet with Aaron to talk about what he's writing. And then one of us needs to find the right photographer, and then we need to do something to make sure all of us are on the same page for the spread on spring." He groaned once again dramatically to finish it off.
I kneaded my fingers into the cashmere covering his shoulders as I thought. "Right. What about Alice's price? And Sophia said something about finding a picture to go with some freelancers article? We have a portfolio, somewhere."
"More things to do! Perfect!"
"Hush," I scolded, eyebrows furrowed. "Let's call Sophia to pick up some Irish whiskey on the way here. I'll meet with Alice, you meet with Aaron. You're better at people, so you find the right photographer while I go through the portfolio we already have." There was a moment of silence.
"I think Shawn is rubbing off on you." A fond smile flitted over my face.
"I'm going to take that as a huge compliment."
"Knew you would," He taunted as he stood up. "Now we just have to finish all this shit by tonight, because we're going to a club whether you like it or not. Text Sophia about the alcohol. Aaaand, break! Not the coffee machine! Reconvene at lunch."
With that, he bumped his tiny fist against mine and sauntered out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him and I gathered my things to go off and finish my own half of the work before lunch. While hectic days usually led to straight stress and hiding from Victoria, they were the days I lived for. Days where I could do my favorite job in the world, right beside my favourite person, while sipping on Kahlua and coffee, while carrying around the most gorgeous purse that the love of my life had gotten me, were definitely the best days.
* * * *
To: Shawn Mendes , 5:23 — going out tonight with everyone!! come with us pleaseeee 😩😩
From: Shawn mendes , 5:24 — When and where?
To: Shawn Mendes , 5:24 — text Tyler /Ian for details I am incompetent sorry x
From: Shawn mendes , 5:25 — Ok. Niall won't leave me the fuck alone, so he will probably come with us. Is that alright? x
To: Shawn mendes, 5:26 — only if he can handle his liquor!! see you then :)
From: Shawn mendes, 5:26 — That shouldn't be a problem. I love you xx
To:Shawn mendes, 5:27 — i love you too xx
The iPhone flew across the room out of my closet and landed expertly on my long forgotten bed at the apartment, a move I had perfected months ago and that was the most athletic thing I was able to manage in my entire life, probably. Tyler watched it with an amused smile as it hit beside him.
"Good throwing or bad throwing?"
"Good," I said happily, flitting through my closet. "He's gonna text you or Ian for details. Will you help me pick out an outfit? Please?"
"Did you think I was sitting in your room just to hang out with you?" He scoffed. I pouted at him as he stood off the bed and made his way over to me, sneaking an arm around my waist with a smile. "Just kidding. I'm here to see you naked. Being gay was a ploy this whole time." I pinched his hip.
"Russo will be devastated. At least wait until his birthday is over to break the news."
"Right," Tyler snorted. "Speaking of, please tell me you've actually gotten him a present, or are at least planning to."
"I was under the impression that you always bought the presents, and then I signed my name on the card when you weren't looking and made it from both of us. We have a system."
He huffed out a breath of annoyance and tugged a navy blue dress out of the closet. I wrinkled my nose and he tossed it back on the floor next to the pile that I had already started. "This is my boyfriend. We cannot give him the same present. It's a new situation."
"It is not," I insisted, ignoring his eye roll. "Are we having a birthday party? Or can we just combine it with Christmas?" Tyler 's head shot up at the same time he slapped his hand over my mouth with a low hiss, eyes wild as he looked around the room.
"Do not say those words again. I swear to god, Norah, he will murder you if you so much as hint at that idea." I wrenched his hands around my lips.
"I feel like I should have known that."
"You should have," He agreed, releasing me. "Wear that black dress with those gold heels. Now I'm going to get ready and try to dress Russo in something other than those ratty old Vans." He wrinkled his nose at the thought.
"Maybe I'll buy him some new shoes for his birthday."
* * * *
We had barely stepped foot out onto the slushy New York pavement before Andrew ' hand was supporting my elbow firmly and holding the cab door open with the other. I looked up at him in surprise as he gave me a warm smile.
"Hello, Miss Wilson."
"Hey, Andrew ," I greeted. "Are you coming to hang out with us? Take some body shots off of Shawn ?" He gave me a pointed look.
"Absolutely not. I'm escorting you up to where Mr. Mendes and the others are. Mr. Horan insisted on getting in the VIP area." Beside me, Russo let out a loud bark of laughter and tugged on my hand, pulling both Andrew and I down the sidewalk behind him and Tyler.
"Shit, I don't know who this Horan character is, but he sounds like my kind of person."
"I'm sure you will enjoy his company." Andrew said flatly. "This way, Miss Wilson."
He led us inside the upscale building, merely waving his hand and making the three bulky bouncers lift the rope for the four of us to slide through. We barely caught a glimpse of the throbbing, sweaty, downstairs level before we were pushed into the elevator.
It went completely silent as the door slid shut and cut off the bumping bass from the level. Andrew stared at the door and looked suspiciously like a statue. Then Russo burst out into laughter like it was the funniest thing in the world, and then the doors opened into the VIP level. The upper level had music just as loud — if not louder — than its counterpart, but the vibe the opposite. Men in sharp suits and women in shiny, slinky dresses moved around one another, somehow managing to make grinding against one another with glasses perched between their finger completely classy. Russo grasped onto my forearm as we followed Andrew and attempted to not get lost in the sea of beautifully dressed people and neon lights.
"Christ, it's like a whole new world. Shawn is our Aladdin and we are all little Jasmines."
"If only he had a floating carpet," I shouted back, lips pressed to the shell of his ear.
"Maybe that's what we can get for your birthday."
"You know me so well!" He rattled something else off about his birthday (I was learning that I could just tune out and then say 'birthday' every once in a while and it would be fine) as I began searching around the room for Shawn and the Horan man who apparently was like his new best friend or something. I didn't even notice Shawn was there until he was leaning against me, lips crimson and eyes bright.
"There you are," he drawled, "come with me. Everyone's in the back." Andrew seemed to vanish from our side as we began following Shawn. The moment we burst out of rthe dancing bodies and curls of smoke, we were enveloped into a hug by some tiny blonde-haired creature wearing a ridiculous, mint green suit, with a cigar dangling from his lips. He punched Shawn in the shoulder once before turning to me and pressing his shiny lips to each of my cheeks, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
"Norah," he said brightly, exhaling a puff of smoke with his words, "I've heard a lot of shit about you! Wanna drink? It's all on me tonight, babe."
I took a shocked step back from the blue-eyed bombshell. Behind him, I could see Liam and the rest of our friends watching with bright smiles and glasses of champagne. "I'll take a drink, I guess?" I said meekly.
"Right-o!" He boomed with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. "C'mon, sit all of ya, I've got another bottle of champagne on the way and three rounds of tequila shots! It's the Horan way of life, c'mon, you're already falling behind everyone else!"
With that, he brushed past me to where Russo and Tyler were standing and brought them both into a tight hug. I watched with my mouth wide open in shock. On the other hand, Shawn just smiled brightly and tugged me down to sit in between him and Ian. I looked at both of them in shook.
"Is that a real person, or a fairy?"
Ian smiled happily.
"That's Niall Horan, rah, and I'm pretty sure I am in love with him." He glanced sideways at Eryn. "I am definitely in love with him. Just so you know." His girlfriend nodded solemnly in agreement.
"That's Niall Horan?" I sputtered, turning to look at him. The man had at some point slipped his ridiculous mint suit jacket over Tyler's shoulders and apparently moved on to serenading Russo with a rap song.
"I don't believe you." Shawn squeezed my shoulder gently.
"You'll like him, I think."
"Like him?" I turned to look at the businessman again. "I think that every person who meets him is going to fall in love with him. He seems inherently lovable. I don't think he can do any wrong."
"Norah," Shawn warned. I threw my hands up in defence. "Tell me you are not partially in love with him. Look me in the eyes and say that you aren't in love with Niall Horan."
My boyfriend didn't even attempt to deny it. Instead, he choked back a laugh and shook his head yes as Niall and other two boys plopped onto the couch across from us, and it was then I remembered people actually existed outside the bubble of brightness that was Niall Horan. On the other red couch, Alessia was clutching onto her gorgeous (must be a Vogue model, honestly) boyfriends arm while laughing brightly with Ian 's girlfriend eryn. All of my friends beside Tyler and Russo had flushed rosy cheeks and liquor-shined lips already. But judging how Niall was now passing out shots from a silver platter to everyone, I guess I could understand why.
"Thank you," I laughed as he sat one in front of me with a wink. He grinned brightly. Then he proceeded to stare at me for a solid minute, still balancing a tray of ten shots in one hand while puffing on a cigar with his other.
"You need another," He said finally. "You need three. We're doing this my fuckin' way, and you need three."
"I need a chaser then," I relented, narrowing my eyes as he handed me another. Niall's glittering blue eyes danced around for a second. Then he tucked his (still-burning) cigar behind his ear and snatched the electric pink concoction out of Shawn 's hand.
"Here. Chase with this."
"I can't chase alcohol with alcohol." He waved a hand.
"That's where you're fuckin' wrong." And then he was flitting back over to Alessia and Brian and taking more shots with them. It was obvious why everyone was in love with him. He was full of life and could manipulate a situation to his advantage, joy and kindness coming completely natural to him. I shook my head fondly before downing a shot, then wrinkling my nose and burying my face into Shawn's shoulder.
"Shit — that's — that is like rubbing alcohol."
"Niall likes to go big or go home."
"Yeah," I choked out as took down another, then slammed the empty tumbler on the table. "I can see that." Shawn ran his fingers over my shoulder soothingly. There was a pitying look on his face that clearly showed he had already been coerced into insanely strong shots by the Irish lad.
"You look lovely. Did I tell you that already?"
"I don't think so," I grinned. "You look rather handsome yourself, Mr. Mendes."
"Is it alright that Brian came? Niall just sort of...was Niall. And I know you enjoyed meeting Alessia the first time. So that's okay?" I brushed a thumb against his knee and choked out another liquor induced cough.
"Yeah, of course. What does Niall say? Go big or go home?"
"He's quite charming, isn't he?"
"He's..." I hesitated. "He's something."
As if on cue, Niall was clambering up onto the cubed table in front of all of us, clapping his hands together wildly. His eyes were bright, wild with ideas, and his bright bow tie hung loosely around his neck. Behind him, lights flashed and glitter fell on the dancing bodies.
"The night is ours!"
While that was a ridiculous thing to say, everyone raised their drinks and cheered happily, including Shawn. I had a feeling that if Niall told us that Ireland was taking over the world, we'd all take a shot and proclaim it to be the best thing to ever happen.
"Thank you for the invitation tonight everyone," he continued brightly, "and I hope that I can get you all sufficiently plastered tonight on expensive champagne. Also, I really want to dance," he hopped down from the table and took a drag from his cigar. "Dance, anyone?"
Because he was Niall Horan, everyone stood up and followed him out to the dance floor. Shawn squeezed my hips before moving me gently out of his lap. The entire party followed the bouncing ball of coiffed hair and silk suits and untouchable energy onto the dance floor without even questioning it. I kept one hand gripped onto the back of Russo' t-shirt and the other wrapped around Shawn's as we pushed through the bodies in a train-like manner, with Niall as the engine. Only once we were safely in the middle of the crowd did he stop the process and begin dancing. Shawn reached for me with a wide drunken grin, almost immediately.
"Me only," He said quietly, ducking his forehead to rest against mine. "Only dance with me."
"As hard as that will be..." He grinned in response, pressed a kiss to my shoulder, and pulled back. I was left in a moment of hurt confusion before he grabbed one of my hands and lifted it up, letting me swirl underneath and back against his chest, black dress twirling around my pale legs as I moved. After that, time seemed to pass without any sort of measurement except for the shots that were shoved in my hands by a bright-eyed, ever present Niall. The steady beat pressed against my ribs and the lights brightened all the bodies around us.
And as always, there was Shawn, hair long and wet, skin sparkling, tilting his head back and laughing each time he twirled me under his arm. "I fucking love you," he shouted, hands sliding across my stomach and catching on the seams of my dress. "You're gorgeous, babe."
I tilted my head back on his shoulder, sweat dripping down on my neck. "I love you."
Shadows of blue, green, red, flickered across Shawn's intent features. In the background, Russo and Niall were laughing, Tyler was swinging eryn under his arm, Alessia arm Brian were in their own little world. And then there was Shawn. There was always me and Shawn.
"We're leaving," He panted, sliding his lips over my skin. "Just fucking — let's go. Now. We're leaving."
"Gotta say goodbye —"
"Now," He said lowly. Shawn wrapped his arm securely around my waist and pulled me away from the gyrating bodies before I could protest any more, eyes low to the ground and determined, white button down nearly soaked through, revealing a bit of black ink. I looked over my shoulder helplessly, only to see Niall Horan watching with an amused grin, smoke pouring out of his mouth and a pretty girl pressed tightly against him. He took a deep swig of his beer before dropping his eyelid in a slow wink, then doubling over into laughter.
* * * *
We didn't even make it up the elevator into the penthouse before Shawn was there, pressed tightly against me, sweaty and panting and everything I could ever want. He pawed helplessly at my dress before groaning and slotting his hips in between mine.
"God — you look — wanted you all night," he groaned, biting down on my shoulder.
The door beeped and slid open. Shawn let out an annoyed huff, not even giving me time to think before wrapping his arms under my thighs and picking me up. I fumbled with his shirt as he swayed out of the elevator drunkenly and fell against the white wall. A painting shattered to the ground beside us. There would probably be a bruise tomorrow where my head hit (and that art was probably more expensive than my rent), but that was definitely the last thing I cared about before shawn was shoving my dress up over my hips, lips never leaving mine.
"Hurry," I mumbled into his mouth, "Hurry, god, hurry." He grunted again and tugged his black wallet from his pants pocket.
There was no sort of order as he began searching through it, green bills floating down to the ground randomly before he finally, finally pulled out the silver packet, making me muffle a laugh against his skin.
"Okay," He said quietly, sliding the condom in place. His hands shook as he moved to support me back against the wall, hot, vodka-scented breath fanning out against my cheek.
"Fuck, okay." Everything disappeared from my mind except shawn as he pushed in, again and again. He was pressed against me in every place he could be, warm and sweaty and shawn. My fingers etched deep red lines into his skin as I pulled him closer.
"I love you." I groaned, teeth knocking against his in our urgency.
"shawn, please, I love you." His hips stuttered in their motions. "Love you so much."
With each stroke, I found myself falling further apart, white hot pleasure rolling up my spine, and it didn't take long before I was falling apart with his touch, skin flushing bright red as I gasped into his neck, trembling and cursing and breathing out his name. shawn cursed once, loudly, before his abs clenched beneath my hands and he stilled. A low groan escaped his lips as he came too, with his neck veins popping out and fingernails leaving little half-moon imprints where they dug into my hips.
"Maybe we should shower," He panted. I mouthed helplessly at his shoulders.
"I need time to recover."
"I'll even carry you up the stairs," he said lowly. "We can do it if we're dedicated."
It turned out that we were very, very dedicated. And, honestly, if the rest of my days were going to be filled with liquor and love and laughter as much as the past one, I wasn't sure there was anything else that I would want to be dedicated to.