Freedom in Falling Page 3

  Bowen snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that."

  "I know! It's fucking hilarious, right? I obviously can't do it."

  "I don't see why you have to be the straight bro anyway," Ames said. "Fuck 'em if they don't like it. You're not marrying them."

  "Sister-in-law-to-be seems all right but who the fuck knows about the rest of them. What if they're fucking bigots? Then what? I can't fight her entire family. It's bad etiquette and shit. So I should just not go. They won't even miss me." Noah paused. "Well, Liam might. I'm only going because he guilted me. Fucker."

  "Do what you gotta do," Bowen said.

  "You say that like arson isn't illegal," Noah said balefully.

  They laughed again and Suzanne's hand settled onto his head, patting his hair. "Drunk ass." He leaned into her, his head dropping onto her shoulder. When it drooped forward, she shoved him back against the cushioned seat. "Hey, lay off the boobs."

  Noah nodded and stole another of her fries.

  THE NEXT MORNING NOAH woke up on his floor. He had very little recollection of how he'd gotten there and a very strong suspicion that the sun was out to get him. Personally. That cheery fucker was unbearably bright, driving into his eyes like shards of glass. He dragged himself over to the table where he'd left his sunglasses and daintily slipped them on. It made the sun almost bearable, but everything else was still overwhelmingly awful.

  He'd drunk too much.

  A handful of painkillers and a glass of water later and he felt slightly more human though the connection was only tenuous. Moving too fast made him feel like his soul was peeling off his body. That wasn't so bad. Like floating. If he could get that part without the nausea he'd be fine.

  Clouds moved in to block the saccharine sweet sun and if it didn't help exactly, it made it slightly easier to see without squinting on the way to the coffee shop. The winter air was frigid even through his coat, so cold it made his ears throb. His cheeks stung. If it wasn't for his need for caffeine, Noah and his three sizes too big head would have been headed right the fuck back to his apartment.

  Noah dragged open the door, wincing at the jingle of the bell, and shuffled his ass up to the counter. Caffeine, he needed it. Once he wrapped his hands around a warm mug, everything would be better.

  The girl behind the counter, Michelle—his brain coughed up on a two second delay—smiled. It was as fake as the potted plant in the corner that someone kept forgetting to dust. After she recognized him behind the sunglasses, her smile turned into a real one. They'd worked enough shifts together to be friendly in an amorphous kind of way. They'd talked. Exchanged a perfunctory number of texts. He'd cried on her shoulder once and offered to punch her ex-boyfriend. Not for related reasons.

  "Wow," she drawled. Her face betrayed awe. "You look terrible."

  He bared his teeth. Words were too much work.

  "The usual, I take it," she said, already pressing buttons on the register and putting out a hand to accept his money.

  He dropped the change into the tip jar and then, caffeine acquired, dragged himself to the nearest unoccupied chair and let the coffee's sweet bitter steam work its magic. He had to be to work in a few hours and it was going to be hell. He needed to gird himself.

  His phone twitched in his pocket. Noah took it out and squinted at the display. Then he glared at it for a full ten seconds before setting the phone to silent and setting it face down on the table for a timeout.

  He took a sip of his coffee, slowly curling up on the table around his mug. If he could have climbed inside he would have. It looked warm in there. Cozy.

  Fuck.

  He should have said no to hanging out. But he thought that every time, and more often than not he ended up just so, wrapped around a steaming mug like a dog on a hearth, waiting to feel human again. But he had been lonely and tense and he'd wanted to be distracted. Well... now he was distracted. Eventually the rest of his concerns would return, but for now there was only The Regret and The Pain. Nothing else.

  He was still lamenting his poor life choices when the bell on the door jingled again, splitting his head and his mood neatly in two.

  Noah glanced up.

  There were no glasses perched on his nose today, but the slightly long hair and the slightly frowning mouth were the same as when the bookworm had made his rather spectacular debut in Noah's life. Today's button down was a different color than the last time—blue—but no less studious even with the leather jacket over it to guard against the cold.

  Noah blinked at him. Then he blinked again. He had to be sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing or if he'd moved on to hallucinating so soon.

  Judging by the open-mouthed staring from the bookworm and the faint creep of a flush over his winter-streaked cheeks, they were both actually there and staring at each other.

  Noah was the first to smile even though it hurt to rearrange his face into the proper order. His eyes crinkled behind his sunglasses and threatened to crack. He had so many regrets about last night.

  The bookworm didn't smile back.

  WEST SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED this. They might have crossed paths a dozen times before seeing and remembering each other so it was only a matter of time before they saw and remembered each other again. He had just hoped that it wouldn't be quite so soon. He had barely gotten over the inferno of embarrassment from the last time and now, today of all days, when he wanted nothing but a cup of coffee and five minutes alone here was his own personal demon. Again. He sat at a table in the center of the room wearing sunglasses and a grin that was closer to a wince but was still more than West could bear.

  West hesitated in the doorway for what felt like forever before he kept walking. He had come for coffee and by God he was going to have it. After that... well, everything would work itself out one way or another.

  He was proud of his resolve, less proud when he turned from the counter with coffee in hand and realized that the only empty table in the tiny place was right next to his table. It was too late to get the cappuccino to go. Damn.

  West floated across the room, eyes forward like he didn't have a care in the world. Everything was right in his world. His heart wasn't pounding in his chest and he did not care. He had come to sit and drink coffee. Then he would leave. West hadn't even noticed that one particular head turned at his approach. Watching. It didn't matter. A small, terrible part of him wasn't preening at the attention.

  In general, West didn't attract much notice. Camouflage was his preferred defense mechanism, a skill acquired over years of trying to avoid Reese and his unpredictable moods. If no one saw West, they couldn't have an opinion about what he did or how he did it. And it had gotten him a reputation in high school for being the perfect snob which had conveniently made it even easier for him to avoid people. He barely had to think about avoiding them now. It was as ingrained as his spiky handwriting and his preference for bitter dark chocolate. That's just how it was.

  So why was he vibrating with the need to turn and see if he was still being watched?

  West took a sip from his mug. His stomach swirled with frustrated longing. He didn't want to want this. But oh God the man might be awful but he was good looking too. He'd already found a home in at least one of West's fantasies. West hated it. He hated him. But he couldn't make himself stop wanting.

  His personal demon's chair screeched back and West stiffened, but he was only going to the counter. While he was gone, West pulled out his phone, flicking through dates on his calendar as he reached for his cappuccino with his free hand. So much to do. So much to do. Studying. Reese would be arriving in another week. West had done his best to bury the feeling of doom beneath class work and mindless activity, anything to fill the time between here and there. But his apartment was as clean as he could make it with Charlotte camping out on his couch. Every plate had been washed. Every surface had been swept. Every book alphabetized. He was running out of ways to avoid the inevitable. Charlotte had started making messes just to see how quickly he would
clean them. According to her, his record stood at fifteen seconds.

  "If I ask to sit, will you yell at me again?"

  West jumped. The terrible man stood at his side holding a mug of something topped with whipped cream and a chocolate drizzle. This close, West could see the shadow of stubble on his jaw. "Excuse me?" It came out harsher than West had planned, but it didn't seem to dim the smile pointed at him.

  "Is that a yes or a no?" The question was punctuated with a dart of his tongue to collect the whipped cream slowly dripping down the side of his mug.

  West's eyes followed the movement all on their own. "No. Or yes." He paused. He'd forgotten what the question was. "I want to be left alone." There. That was better. Decisive.

  "Suit yourself. I'll be waaaaaay over here in case you change your mind," he said, already retreating the three or four steps to the next table over. He sat with his legs stretched out on one of the other vacant chairs beside him and sipped from his mug, licking his lower lip in a way that was entirely unnecessary. He smiled. It was hard to read his expression with the sunglasses, but there was something very pointed about it. "And I hope you will."

  Noah rolled his eyes.

  Barely a minute later, the girl behind the counter came around with a cleaning rag and a spray bottle to wipe down empty tables. As she passed, she pulled the chair out from beneath the other man's legs. His feet hit the floor with a thud. "No feet on the chairs, Noah. You know the rules. And stop harassing the customers." She tossed a look at West who blushed. So much for privacy.

  "Quiet you," the demon—Noah—said and waved her away. "I'm not harassing anybody."

  "Yes, you are," she fired back, scrubbing away at the table. "Ask the cute boy if he feels harassed. Go on." She shot another wicked smile at him which he returned with a grumble and another wave off. She left, trailing a laugh after her.

  As soon as she was gone, Noah turned back to West, leaning over the table, face all earnestness. "I wasn't harassing you," he said in a low voice. "This time," he added after a moment.

  "Thank you for that clarification," West said tightly, eyes still on his phone. It was better not to look at him. It made it easier to ignore the promises those lips were making if he couldn't actually see them. Though he could still see the way Noah bit his lip before speaking just fine. On repeat. Teeth sinking into deep pink flesh.

  He had to stop. This was how people ended up jumping out of airplanes or swimming with sharks. He gulped down the rest of his cappuccino and slammed the empty cup down. Time to go. He needed out of this situation before he did something he regretted.

  In his peripheral vision, Noah's smile faltered for a moment. He still leaned over the table towards West, chewing on his lip so much that it looked liable to bleed any second. "What I said before, it was—"

  "Inappropriate," West suggested.

  Noah massaged his temples with a hand. His laugh was rough. "So I'm told."

  "You don't agree?" West finally turned to look at him head on. In full three-dimensional glory. Even with the painful looking smile, he was still better than West remembered. He smelled good too. It was hard to tell what it was, the product in his hair maybe, but it wafted around him whenever they got close. West wanted to bury his nose in his neck and breathe in until he was sated.

  Under the table, a coin danced over Noah's fingers before he seemed to realize what he was doing and set it down. "I was trying to apologize."

  "Is that what you were doing? I couldn't tell." West stood up, pocketing his phone and taking his empty mug to the bin in the corner. He made it all the way out the door before he looked back.

  THE DOOR CHIMED AS the bookworm left. Noah let himself collapse back onto the table.

  Well. That had gone fan-fucking-tastic.

  During the next lull, Michelle swung by to take his empty mug away from him. She patted Noah on the head. "That was truly painful to witness."

  "Thanks. You were a big help. I mean it."

  "Don't pout at me because you were an asshole and someone called you on it," she laughed. "You're cute but you're not that cute."

  "Yes I am." He raised his head from the table to grin at her. He had to squint even with the sunglasses to do it. His head wasn't pounding anymore, but his blood pressure was sky high to make up for it. He felt like he'd just run a marathon.

  "Okay, you are. Still not interested. I did my time being the supportive friend after that cluster with Becca. I'm off the clock now. Besides, the cute boy is more your type and you know it. You always go for the bitches."

  "Do not."

  Her look was answer enough.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Side Eyes Emoji

  "You're in a shitty mood," Charlotte commented.

  West raised an eyebrow, dropping his keys onto the table beside the door before shrugging out of his coat. "I just walked in the door. How do you know what my mood is like?"

  She was still curled up on his couch watching some kind of reality show when West returned. On the screen a woman stood in a wedding dress with a mermaid skirt. She looked like she could barely walk in it. Hopefully someone would help her before she fell and broke her nose.

  "Because. You have that frowny face that you get when you're in a shitty mood and you've had it for three days now. I would've stayed at home if I'd known you were going to be such a jerk."

  "Maybe it's because someone keeps eating Cheetos on my couch," West said, eyeing the bag nestled on the seat beside her. "You better not be leaving cheese powder all over everything."

  "I'm not. Don't worry, Mr. Clean. And that could be the reason, but it's not." She leaned over to grab the remote. The TV blinked off. "Spill."

  West sat on the couch beside her, then thought better of it and scooted over to put a few inches between them so he was out of Cheeto range. His khakis would be the first casualty. "Could you at least go wash your hands first?"

  Charlotte paused in the middle of sucking orange cheese off her thumb to waggle her hand at him. "Am I bothering you with my cheese hands?"

  "Yes."

  "You're no fun." She hopped up and flounced towards the bathroom. "Fine. But then you have to tell me everything. And it better be good. You've been snapping at me for days. That deserves gossip," she called back over the sound of splashing water. When she returned, her hands were once again human colored. She flopped onto the couch, head leaning on his shoulder as she folded her legs beneath her. She trained her doe eyes on him. "So?"

  "So what?"

  She nudged him in the side. "What's with the frowny face? Is it a boy? It's a boy, right? What's he like? Is he cute? Wait, did he break your heart? Do we need to get ice cream?"

  Despite himself, West laughed. His last date had been... a long time ago. "No. It's not a boy."

  She booed and nudged him again. "No drama?"

  "No. No drama. Sorry."

  He almost fell off the couch as she slumped hard against him. "You're going to tell me it's something like your favorite dish soap getting discontinued or bills making you act like a jerk, aren't you?" She made a noise like a rapidly deflating balloon.

  "I don't have a favorite dish soap."

  "Yes, you do. And stop being so literal. You know what I mean."

  "It's kind of like that." She didn't need to hear about his worries where Reese was concerned. She probably had some of her own already. He was silent for a while. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

  A sly smile crept onto her face. "How sorry?"

  West feigned a sigh. Much as he longed for the return of the quiet, he had missed her. And this. He had to study, but he couldn't locate the desire to sit down with a book. It would wait until tomorrow.

  "What is it you want?"

  WHAT SHE WANTED WAS best summed up as: everything.

  In order of importance, their itinerary was art store ("Because I forgot all my stuff at home and the store is right there and I might kinda have an assignment due on Monday."), then dinner ("Your fridge is full of yogurt and tofu. Wh
en did you turn into a soccer mom?"), and finally gelato ("Coffee flavor. Non-negotiable.")

  West agreed without much of an argument. He was lucky she hadn't suggested something more elaborate. Or expensive. As a final peace offering, he let her put on music in the car. When he suggested it, she looked at him like he'd grown another head.

  "Stop being so nice. You're starting to freak me out."

  "First you said I was an asshole, now I'm too nice. Do you want me to go back to snapping at you? Because I can. Get your feet off the seat."

  She grinned. "That's better."

  "So what happened with your grades? You were doing fine last I heard."

  Charlotte picked at the edge of her sleeve. "I don't know. My teacher hates me and everyone in that class is a jerk, so I don't know why she's after me. Kyle talks all the time. Yell at him."

  "And that's all?"

  She shrugged. "I messed up one test because I was sick. It's not like I meant to fall asleep. But she wouldn't let me finish it even after I explained, so I got a zero. That's what killed my grade."

  "Did you tell mom?"

  "She said it was my responsibility so I had to 'accept the consequences' of my actions." He could hear her voice as clearly as if she was in the car with them. There are no exceptions in the real world was one of her favorite phrases when he was growing up, usually followed up with 'No one cares that you had a bad day. They care that the work is done.' Sometimes he'd felt more like a tiny employee than her son. Her approval came with a checklist of conditions to be met and/or exceeded.

  "But she's still going to be pissed anyway when she sees my final grade for the semester," Charlotte finished, yanking him back to the present.

  His phone buzzed in the cup holder as he pulled up outside the store. Incoming call. Wonderful. The list of people who called him was incredibly small and one of them was already in the car with him. He waved Charlotte inside. "Go on. Get whatever you need. I'll wait here," he said. He reached for his phone.