"Are you guys official?" I ask Simone as I flip over the pancakes on the pan.
"Well, he asked me out a week ago and I told him I needed time to think. And then this morning I went to his room wearing his sweater and I was like 'hey, do you like this sweater?' and he was like 'yeah' and then I said 'thanks, it's my boyfriend's'. Then he smiled and like picked me up and hugged me."
"Oh my God, that's so sweet."
"That's so cliche," Lacey forks a pancake into her mouth.
"I say you're jealous," Simone crosses her arms over her chest. "I say you probably met a good guy too but the Dora in you still want to explore."
"Did you just call me a hoe?"
"Maybe I didn't. Maybe I did."
Lacey's eyes narrow into slits. "Well, fuck you too."
She forks another pancake into her mouth and walks out on us, slamming the kitchen door in a loud thud.
"Did you see that? What's wrong with her?" Simone asks.
"I don't know either. She's been acting up for awhile now."
My first guess would be that she's jealous. But that would be hardly true. Lacey can get any guy she wants with just the snap of her finger. Odd though, Tom's not her type. I can't even begin to figure out what exactly the issue is because my pancakes are beginning to burn on the pan.
"Shit!" I turn off the fire, seeing how brown and burnt the pancakes already are.
"I'll take the good ones. Thank you." Simone grabs the plates of pancakes Lacey was eating from as I slap her hand away.
"You can't take those! They're for Noah."
She gives me a look. "Why are you making pancakes for Noah?"
As a token of my apology, I guess. It's been two days since we went into town, had that little semi argument, and he's been giving me the nostril flare of total rejection. I feel like most of it is my fault... who am I kidding? All our arguments are always my fault. My stupid self just don't know when to stop. He was open enough to tell me about his brother and I just had to walk out on him. Let's not forget the part where I almost ran him over with the truck.
I'm the real douchebag here.
"I'll explain later." I untie my apron and toss it at Simone. "Make your own pancakes. And try not to burn down the kitchen."
"Come on. That's way over the top."
I grab the plate of pancakes and exit the kitchen, taking the elevator up to the last floor. The worst that can happen would be that he'd only slam his door on my face, and then I'd knock again because I'm a stubborn bitch.
I stop in front of his door, knock five times and give him to the count of ten.
He opens it when I get to seven.
Noah isn't wearing a shirt. I didn't think I'd find him like this.
I could feel my stomach tightening into a knot. At the same time my palms are growing damper than the weather could've warranted.
Not like I hadn't seen him without a shirt. He was drunk back then and unstable. But now that he's fully sober, God, he's magnificent.
For the length of a minute, my mind goes completely blank as my eyes sweeps over every inch of the glistening, rock-hard body resting on the door frame. His jeans are molded to his hips, dipping down below his navel— I find my breath growing progressively shorter.
Focus, Allie, focus. The guy's got other parts you could be looking at. His face, damn it, Allie, look at his face!
"Cory's not in. Come back later," he says and moves from the doorway to close the door as I use a free hand to hold it.
Noah raises a brow.
"I'm not here for Cory," I tell him. "I'm here for you."
His eyes holds mine. "Why?"
"To apologize and to give you this."
He eyes the plate of pancakes for a long moment before finally taking it from me. "What exactly are you apologizing for?"
"The other night," I tell him, lowering my eyes and suddenly becoming fascinated with the floor tiles beneath my boots.
"The whole night? Or something in particular?" He asks, his expression giving nothing away as he looks at me.
He's going to make this difficult for me. I should've known he would. Noah has never been an easygoing person.
"You told me about your brother, and then I stormed out on you," I murmur. "For almost running you over with the truck."
He inspects the plate of pancakes, drawing back the crisp white-and-red checkered cloth and looks inside. The aroma of oil, butter and milk hits our noses. He glances down back at me.
"Still haven't heard anything to apologize for," Noah says, holding the door a bit wider. "Want to come in?"
I nod as he steps aside for me to enter, using my back to close the door. Like I suspected, we're the only ones in the room. Tom too, is not in. Why that gives me a weird feeling in the stomach, I can't say.
There's a paint canvas at a corner of the room with a painting on it. Walking closer, I realize the painting is a picture of a Yellow Unicorn. Such strange color for that kind of animal.
"Who did this?" I ask Noah.
"Tom. He's giving me paint lessons."
"Really? What'd you paint?" My hands skim over the painting on the canvas.
"Well, I uh..."
With a curious glance directed at him, I flip open the next page which shows another painting. It's a painting of me. It looks more amateurish than the first but I recognize myself clearly on the paper.
"He told me to paint whatever picture first comes to my head. I know, it's stupid. I'm stupid."
My heart flutters when he catches me staring at him as the corner of his lips lifts up in one of his sincere smiles. Even if he told me a little bit about his family already, I still feel like I'm missing out on some huge information. Like he's leaving something out.
I'm curious about him. It's totally not in my place to pry out more secrets from him, which is why I've got eyes on Miss Renee. She seems to know something. And I'm going to find out what it is.
"Hello? Earth to Allie."
I swiftly look away from his bare chest. "The painting is beautiful."
"It's a painting of you. It's obviously not beautiful."
"Take that back."
"And if I don't?"
I take a paintbrush and dip it into a bowl of purple color, flicking it at his chest. He looks down at the mess I made.
"Goddamnit, Allie! I just had a shower."
"You don't say." With mock concern, I dip the brush into another color and rub at his shoulders.
"Oh, it's on."
I yelp and make a run for it when he takes the whole bowl of paint and attempts to pour it atop my head. But he's faster than me, so he succeeds in covering me in poster color.
My mouth hangs open.
"You need to check yourself out," he laughs, picking up his phone from a bed and holding it up to my figure. "Say cheese."
"Fuck you." The camera lights goes on and off.
I growl and turn around to leave the room when he continues laughing as I tumble to the ground from the slippery floor with all the paint on it.
Well, this is fun.
I join in laughing at a fool I made of myself. We just stay there, me on the floor covered in paint and him trying to catch his breath from laughing, but he fails because we both burst out laughing again that I forget why I'm even laughing in the first place.
"Are you okay?" He outstretches his arms to pull me up. I take his hands, dragging him down to the floor as he hovers over me while still chuckling. I stop laughing when I realize his face is inches away from mine.
His grin too is gone, replaced by a look I'm not able to read. I'll never be able to read him. He mesmerizes me with his eyes, his fingers coming up to my face to shift a sticky strand of hair from my face.
"We both look like idiots," he says. My eyes fall to his lips as my breath gets shorter by the minute. "I remember."
"Okay?" My eyes go back up to meet his. "Remember what?"
"I remember I kissed you."
I clear my throat a little bit too loudly and sit up on my butt as he backs away.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Noah asks.
"What difference does it make?"
"What are you talking about? It was..."
"...a mistake," I cut in. "I know. You were drunk and people do stupid things when they're drunk. I get it."
He looks like he has something more to say, and I look at him expectantly, waiting for the next words that'll come out from his mouth. Noah clamps his mouth shut, like he's having a rethink about something, then he stares at me again.
"Yeah. It was a mistake. I'm sorry it was weird for you."
Something inside me snaps. "I don't want your apology."
I push myself back on my feet and walk towards the door to leave, my hand resting on the door knob as I give it a second thought to just tell the truth.
"Look, It wasn't weird because you kissed me," my back is still facing him. "It was weird because I liked it."
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