Sunlight streams in from the window. I open my eyes blearily, pausing when I feel something heavy laying across my waist. It takes a moment for everything to come back. The reality of what happened last night.
I gave my virginity to my stepbrother.
Turning my head, I stare at Noah whoâs sharing my pillow. His breath is coming out in gentle puffs.
Itâs amazing how he resembles a sleeping angel; none of the chaos and angst that follows him during the day can be seen.
I feel a little bit like a creeper as I watch him sleep. I think a part of me was sure that he would be gone this morning. Just as heâs done any other time weâve gotten close.
Iâm glad heâs here though, because I think his absence would have broken my heart far worse than all the other times he disappeared on me.
A part of me still dreads when he wakes up though. Will he open his eyes and immediately regret everything that happened?
I analyze myself, trying to see if I feel any regret, but thereâs none to be found. My insides are a little bit achy, but I feelâ¦alive. I think some of the wildness in Noah leaked out and has seeped inside of me.
Noahâs eyes slowly blink open, and he stiffens for a moment when our eyes connect. But then I watch as he relaxes, a small smile spreading across his lips.
âYou are a little stalker, arenât you?â he rasps in a sexy voice.
I roll my eyes and flush.
âYou were watching me sleep, werenât you?â he teases.
I wrinkle my nose at him and I get a little lost in the chaotic blue of his eyes.
His arm that was wrapped around me pulls me closer to him until Iâm pressed up against his chest and I can feel his hardening length. âThatâs okay, Sky, I watched you sleep last night for hours.â
His words give me butterflies, not that theyâre anything special. Iâm just feeling so much relief that heâs not running, that I think he could say anything at the moment and I would like it.
âHow are you feeling?â he suddenly asks in a more serious voice.
I flush deeper, just thinking about everything he did to me, three times, last night.
âA little sore,â I admit, and he reaches up his other hand between us and softly runs it across my collarbone, goosebumps emanating from his touch.
âThatâs too bad. Now that Iâve gotten a taste, I just want more.â He presses against me more and slides a soft kiss across my lips.
Suddenly thereâs a loud bang coming from down the hall. We both stiffen, and thatâs enough of a reminder of the fact that other people live in the house to get me jumping out of the bed, pulling on some clothes.
Noah looks completely unworried. He puts a hand under his head and props himself up as he watches me get dressed.
âYou donât think Mom and Dad will approve of what we got up to last night?â he teases.
âDonât call them that,â I say, wrinkling my nose again. âAt least not when youâre naked in bed and theyâre down the hall.â
Noah gives me his trademark lazy smile, and like every time Iâm with him, I wish I was a photographer and could actually take a good picture. And he wouldnât think I was weird if I spent all my time taking his picture.
Iâm sure if I grabbed my phone right now, and started snapping, heâd run from the room.
âWe need to get out of here,â Noah says when we hear a pot slamming.
âGot any plans today?â he asks, finally sliding out of bed and grabbing his briefs to pull on.
I donât have any plans, other than writing. This was interesting territory to maneuver. Normally, I wouldnât want anyone to hear that I planned on spending the weekend alone in my room, but considering that Noah has been living with me for these last couple of years, heâs already quite aware of my hermit habits.
Just as I had that thought, his grin widens. âYou were going to spend the day in your room, werenât you?â
âNo?â I squeak, although it ends up coming out more as a question than a response.
He steps forward and pulls me against him, his hands sliding up to cradle my face in the way that I love, his thumb softly stroking my cheeks.
âDo you think I can convince you to leave your room today, and instead spend the day with me?â
What Noah doesnât know is that Iâm already at the point where I think Iâd do anything for him. A dangerous place to be for sure with a boy like Noah, with heartbreak written all over him.
Even if Noah wasnât my stepbrother, I would be scared of the strength of my feelings for him.
But I canât help it.
âWhat do you have in mind?â I asked roughly.
âItâs a surprise,â he drawls, moving away and grabbing the pants and shirt heâd discarded last night.
Itâs amazing that he almost looks as sexy getting dressed as he did getting undressed.
Itâs also ridiculous how much I miss the heat of his touch. Iâd agree to go with him today just so we donât have to worry about prying eyes. I may be sore, but I canât wait to be with him again.
âMeet me out there for breakfast in a few minutes,â he tells me as he silently opens my door and peeks out into the hallway. The coast must be clear because he slides out of the room a second later, disappearing from sight. Staring around his room, itâs amazing how empty it feels without him in here. I usually like to be alone, but that doesnât extend to Noah. Iâm not sure that I could ever get tired of being with him.
âYouâre a stupid girl,â I whisper to myself.
A couple of minutes later though, I leave the room, ignoring the feeling inside of me that Iâm heading down a road Iâm going to regret. Noah is already in the kitchen, munching away on a piece of toast while my exhausted looking mother tries to ask him some questions. Sheâll need to sleep for a few hours after having the night shift, but growing up, she would always try to spend at least thirty minutes with us in the morning after a shift before she went to bed.
âGood morning, sweetheart,â she says with a soft smile when I enter the kitchen. A small flicker of guilt splashes around in my chest at what weâd done while she was gone, but I push it away.
âHow was your shift?â I ask, proud that my voice sounds so light.
Iâm really glad that Daisy isnât here right now. Fooling my mother is easy since sheâs never been one to look too far below the surface. Fooling Daisy though? Not so much. Daisy wouldâve taken one look at me and most likely immediately known what weâd done last night.
âIt wasnât too bad. A couple of emergencies came in the door, but nothing too crazy.â She lets out a long drained sigh, and takes another sip of the water in her hand before setting it down. âIâm sorry, Sky. Iâm exhausted. Iâm going to have to hit the hay.â She walks towards me and brushes a kiss against my forehead as my eyes meet Noahâs over her shoulder. âAny big plans today?â she asks.
âMmmh, Iâm not sure yet. I may hang out with Noah for a little while.â My mother rears back at that, trying to hide the surprise on her face.
âThatâll be nice,â she says. âThe two of you donât spend that much time together.â
I nod, hoping I look nonchalant. She searches my face for a minute, and fear churns in my veins that maybe sheâll see right through me.
But again, she doesnât look that close, and she just brushes another kiss across my forehead before walking upstairs to her bedroom.
Noah slides the plate next to him towards me. Thereâs a perfectly buttered piece of toast there, with cinnamon sugar sprinkled on it. Itâs my favorite thing to eat in the morning. It shouldnât make the butterflies grow, him making me toast how I like it, but it speaks to the fact that maybe heâs been watching me all these years, just as closely as Iâve been watching him.
Noah grins knowingly, like he can read the thoughts going through my head right then.
âEat your breakfast, little stalker. And then weâll get going.â
I pick up the toast and bite into it, feeling like a lovestruck fool because I swear it tastes better just knowing he made it for me.
After I swallow, I set it down and ask, âAre you going to tell me yet what weâre doing today?â
âNope, itâs still a surprise.â
We finish breakfast in companionable silence, and I go back to my room to get a quick shower and get dressed for todayâs outing. Before I leave, I grab some sunscreen and my phone, because those are the only things heâs told me to get.
Looking freshly showered himself, Noah has on a beat up hat backwards covering his head when I walk back in the living room. Heâs lounging in a chair, playing some video game on his phone.
He glances up when I walk in. âReady to go?â he asks.
I nod, feeling shy for some reason. I find myself wishing that heâd taken my hand. Instead of wallowing in that though, I just follow him outside where his most prized possession is propped in the driveway. I look around for his fatherâs truck, thinking weâll be borrowing it, but the Noah surprises me by walking over to the bike instead. He grabs the helmets seated on top, two helmets where Iâve only ever seen him with one.
âAre we riding that?â I ask, a slight tremble in my voice.
âI would have thought my intention obvious.â He smirks.
I bite my lower lip, looking at the deathtrap he wants me to mount.
âCome on, Sky, live a little,â he mocks.
âRemind me again why I gave you my virginity last night?â I gripe as I head towards the bike. âItâs obvious you want to kill me today.â
He pulls the helmet onto my head and leans forward, close enough that Iâm looking to the side of me, sure that someone we know is going to pop out of the woodwork at any moment and catch us.
âNo one is dying today,â he assures. âAnd you slept with me because you knew Iâm a god in the sack, baby,â he teases playfully.
âModest, too.â I scoff, but donât say the contrary.
Not that I have a lot of experienceâ¦but, Iâm thinking as far as first times go, Iâm a very lucky girl.
He hops onto the bike and pats his seat behind him. âCome on, little stalker. Donât get scared on me now.â
Taking a deep breath, I slide onto the bike behind him. In my books, the heroines are always fearless and brave, but Iâm pretty sure I write them that way because theyâre the exact opposite of me. Living vicariously through them is all the bravery I can muster.
My dad had a motorcycle while we were growing up. But he never let us ride on it with him. Not that we really ever wanted to. His bike came to symbolize something bad for my sister and me. It was what took him out to the bars whenever he and Mom would get in a fight. It was also what he drove back home in the morning, smelling of cheap perfume and whiskey.
I try to push some of the memories out of my head as I wrap my arms loosely around Noahâs waist.
âYou have to hold on tighter than that,â he yells to me as he starts the bike, and I squeeze him tighter, pressing my body against his and feeling the vibration of the bike between my legs.
Hmmm⦠Maybe it wonât be so hard to replace those bad memories after all.