Freedom in Falling Page 4

  "But—" Charlotte's eyes grew larger and rounder, sparkling faintly as she stared at him. She wasn't fooling anyone. He already knew all her tricks.

  "You only want me to come in so I'll pay. Don't even pretend. Be in soon. I have to answer this call first." He frowned at his phone as he saw the name on the display. Mom. Foreboding confirmed. Charlotte slammed the car door and disappeared into the store. His finger hovered over the screen. He was going to regret answering. But ignoring the call wasn't an option. It only led to arguments later on.

  "Hello?"

  "Is Charlotte with you?" His mother's voice was only slightly tense which meant that Charlotte must have left some kind of note before sneaking off. Small mercy.

  "She has been for a couple of days. Why? Didn't she tell you?"

  "She could've at least waited to tell me in person." A sigh gushed out of the phone. "I know I've been gone a lot but I didn't expect to come home to an empty house. I was concerned. This note looks like it was written by one of those made-for-TV movie kidnappers and I didn't know how long it had been on the fridge before I found it. Who thinks to look there?"

  "Most people since that's where the food lives."

  "Don't be smart."

  "Wouldn't dream of it."

  "Since I have you on the phone, West—"

  His pulse leapt in anticipation of her next words.

  "—You never answered me about dinner. Reese will be here any day now and I wanted us all to get together for a nice family meal for once without someone running off. I can't make reservations with a maybe."

  "I can't talk right now, mom. I'm in the car. There are laws." He switched the phone to the other ear while he fumbled with the door handle.

  His mother made another impatient noise but whether it was at him or something else, he couldn't be sure. "Have your sister call me. Tomorrow. After brunch. We need to have a discussion. And I'm not at all pleased with her sneaking out of the house without a word. There will be none of that in the future."

  West winced in sympathy. Charlotte's report card must have come in.

  "And I expect you to come by while your brother is in town."

  "Mom, I told you I probably can't. I'm busy."

  "You can spare us one night for dinner. We hardly see you anymore since you started school again and Reese is flying all the way here just to see us. Don't be difficult."

  He weighed the possibility of her giving up if he kept saying no. It didn't look good. Then again it never looked good. He was glad she couldn't see his face. "Fine. I'll let you know when I'm free."

  "Good. Just don't take too long."

  "I have to go," he repeated, waiting for her to acknowledge it before he said goodbye and hung up. That could have gone worse. It could've gone better too, but that was unlikely with his family. He'd learned to expect disappointment early on.

  West stowed his phone in a pocket and made for the door of the art supply store. He had to stop Charlotte before her shopping spree got out of hand. The last time he had taken her shopping she had tried to talk him into buying an easel. Not just any easel. Oh no. She hadn't wanted the collapsible metal kind. Charlotte had picked out one that was solid wood and weighed more than a small elephant. She didn't even paint. "It's called a statement piece, Weston," she had informed him with the utmost seriousness.

  He hadn't bought it. But she would try again. She always did.

  The door jingled as West walked in and for a moment he was transported back to the coffee shop. All these places had the same cheerful bell. He thought that was the reason he saw the coffeeshop man leaning over the counter beside the register. Like a mirage brought on by stress and sense memory. But no, it was worse than that. West shook himself and his own personal demon was still there, dressed in a black polo shirt now with the name of the store embroidered on the chest in white thread and a name tag with "Noah" in neat block print above that. He was also talking to Charlotte who had an appallingly large sketchbook clutched in both arms and a smile on her face.

  West's feet propelled him forward so fast he might've been on wheels.

  "...WITH THAT SIZE YOU can draw pretty much anything. And with anything. The paper is nice and toothy. I don't know about you but I..." Noah paused to greet the new customer coming in the door and promptly forgot everything else he'd planned to say. He knew that face and that scowl heading towards him at top speed, but they were in the wrong place. They weren't supposed to be here at work. They were supposed to be at the coffee shop. That was where they belonged.

  Noah checked himself over quickly. This couldn't be a dream because a headache throbbed at the periphery of his awareness, the parting gift of his hangover after last night. Aspirin had barely beaten it into submission and it left a jagged crystalline edge on everything. So this was real. But that didn't explain what the bookworm was doing. Here. In Noah's place where he didn't belong. And what the hell had he done to piss off the bookworm this time? He should know if he had done something. His blood pressure and his anxiety did a hop, skip, and a jump upward in preparation for the next attack.

  "You again," Noah said. Business smile in place. Damn, that boy was fine even pissed off. Fuck. He had to stop going for the bitches. His heart always said yes yes yes, while his brain was saying no no no. "Surprisingly small world. I'll be with you in a sec. We were just finishing up." He turned back to the girl in front of him... who was now beaming at the bookworm too. Girlfriend? Noah's eyes danced between them. No. Too young. Friend? Sister? People should come with signs. It would be so much easier on him.

  "What took you so long? I thought you forgot about me," the girl said. She beckoned the bookworm over with a gesture of her laden arms.

  "Mom called."

  "Oh." The girl's face fell before she recovered. She nearly poked herself in the eye with the spiral binding on the sketchbook as she shrugged. "I got everything I needed. Pay up." She seemed to realize that she was still cuddling the supplies and dropped them onto the counter. One of the pencils made a break for it. Noah grabbed it and replaced it atop the pile.

  The bookworm glared between her and Noah. His suspicion was so obvious that it might have been funny if it wasn't also incredibly insulting.

  Noah glared back, one eyebrow lifting in challenge. "Can I help you?"

  "What were you talking to him about?" This directed to the girl. He tossed another hostile look in Noah's direction.

  "Stuff. Things. Jeez, West. I'm a big girl. I know all about stranger danger. He was helping me get my supplies. Don't be mom."

  That earned another sour face. He looked at the scattered supplies on the counter. "All this? You need all of this for one art project?" He made it sound like a conspiracy.

  Noah snickered. Clearly the bookworm didn't do creativity. He looked the type to clench up over having to draw a stick figure without thorough instructions. But what about the clothes? he might wail.

  Noah plunked his chin into his hand and enjoyed the show while they quietly bickered right in front of him. They'd completely forgotten he was there.

  "You don't have anything at your apartment. You don't even have good movies. What if I get bored?"

  The bookworm held up the Snickers bar she'd hidden at the bottom of the pile. "And this?"

  "I get snacky." She grabbed for the candy bar. "Give it. I need that." Instead of handing it back he held it over her head. She poked him in the stomach and snatched the candy from his hand with a triumphant laugh. Then it went back on top of the pile.

  Noah didn't even try to pretend that he wasn't laugh at them—the bookworm already hated him so it didn't fucking matter if he got pissed off. It was going to be a delight taking his money for all these supplies too. Not that they were expensive. They weren't. But it was the closest he was ever going to get to retribution. His gaze dropped to the pile. Sketchbook, a handful of pencils in different hardnesses, eraser, snacks. Everything a budding artist could need. Except...

  "Hold that thought," Noah said. "You need one
more thing. Be right back. Don't steal anything," he teased as he hopped the counter and took off down the nearest aisle.

  WEST WATCHED HIM—Noah, his brain offered up the name again with far too much cheer—vault the counter with a surprising amount of grace and jog away with a smile. As soon as he was out of sight, Charlotte rounded on West. She smacked him on the arm.

  "Ow."

  "You're being a jerk again. That was rude." Charlotte frowned at him. Her forehead puckered like a small topographic map of displeasure.

  West scowled back. "I didn't do anything. And stop hitting me," he said, flicking her arm in retaliation.

  "How do you know him? He's cute and you're totally blowing it," she hissed in a lower voice. She glanced in the direction Noah had gone. There was no sign of him yet. Maybe he'd gone to the next state over to get whatever it was.

  "I'm not blowing anything."

  "Not yet anyway," she said and giggled before her face rearranged itself into a grimace. "Oh. Ew. Now you made me think about your sex life. You owe me an extra scoop of gelato."

  "I didn't make you do any such thing. And please never bring that up again."

  "Anyway, how do you know the cute guy and, more importantly, why didn't you tell meeee?"

  "I don't know him."

  Charlotte pulled his face down until they were forehead to forehead. So close up both of her eyes converged until she looked like a Cyclops. "Don't lie to your sister, Weston."

  West stared, unblinking, into her distorted eye. "Are you done?"

  The staring went on another second before she released his head and stepped back. "Yes. But you still should've told me. This counts as gossip." Another glance around showed that Noah was trotting back to them like a puppy playing fetch, something clutched in his hand. "Now be polite," she warned before she spun to face Noah with a big smile. "You're back!"

  Noah returned the look with an easy smile of his own and for half a second West couldn't look away. It was a good smile. Unselfconscious. It made him feel like he'd swallowed pure sunshine, all warmth and energy. "So I am." Noah scooted over the middle of the counter instead of walking around the side. He set something down along with the rest of Charlotte's supplies. "Almost forgot. You'll want a decent sharpener. None of those cheap ass plastic deals. They won't give you a good tip on your pencil." His eyes snagged on West and the corner of his smile drooped. "Don't worry. It's only a dollar. I'm not trying to rip you off."

  "Thank you—" Charlotte pointedly stared at the name tag pinned to his shirt "—Noah. You've been very helpful. Don't mind my brother. West is naturally a cranky old man."

  Oh, they were definitely going to have words about this later.

  "You are very welcome," Noah said. "It was my pleasure. I'm always happy to meet a fellow artist. And it's nice to finally meet you, West." His gaze stayed leveled at West, lingering a moment longer than was necessary. West felt a fresh wave of heat spread through him from head to toe at the way his name sounded drawled in that voice. A little bitter but still so sweet, like the scent of coffee lingering on Noah's clothes.

  Charlotte nudged West hard in the side. Just like that, the moment vanished.

  "Wallet. Hand it over." She put her hand out, palm up, just below his nose. He pushed the hand back down with one finger and pulled out his wallet. No way was he handing it to her. She had faster fingers than most pickpockets.

  Noah rang up Charlotte's purchases, chuckling to himself. Along with the sharpener, sketchpad, and candy bar there was an assortment of pencils that all looked more or less the same, something that looked like putty, and pointy paper sticks. A few other things passed through Noah's hands and into the waiting bag too quickly for West to track. She couldn't possibly need all of these things for a few days and one art project, could she?

  Charlotte still chattered away at Noah as if they were old friends. His answers were quick and tinged with the same humor that seemed to lace everything he did.

  Finally, everything made its way into the black plastic bag. Noah lifted it over the counter to Charlotte's waiting hands. "Just remember, every time you rub out a pencil line with your finger, someone kicks a puppy. Don't do it. Use the eraser, okay?"

  Charlotte nodded intently.

  "If you have any other questions, you can stop by. I'll be around. I'm here all week except Friday and Sunday and it gets pretty dead. I could use the entertainment."

  West needed out of this store before Charlotte fell any harder. She was already looking at Noah with the kind of awe she usually reserved for Olympic gymnasts. He would never understand her fascination with the rings. "Let's go. I thought you wanted to get gelato."

  Charlotte bounced after him with a wave and a goodbye for Noah.

  The gelato place was just around the corner so they could walk. West needed to stretch his legs. And his brain.

  "He was really nice. And cute. You can't tell me you didn't notice. I've seen how you look at guys you're not interested in and it's not like that. I mean, you look at them for one thing." On and on she went like a windup toy, bag merrily swaying in her hand. "You should ask him out. He'd say yes. He'd say yes even if you didn't ask."

  West clapped a hand over her mouth. "Please stop."

  "What's up with you?"

  "I just need some quiet for a minute."

  Instantly her face transformed with concern. "You feel okay?"

  "Yeah. I'll be fine after some gelato." Not his most convincing lie, but it was the best he could do.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  With A Side Order Of Nope

  "Well, well, well." Noah's smile bordered on vampiric—he'd been told his eye teeth were suspiciously pointy and he did believe in the power of a well placed bite—but it was difficult not to smile his broadest. The door of the coffee shop tinkled open and the bookworm (West, he corrected himself. It probably had a story behind it. Names like that usually did) and his endearing sister walked in. "We have to stop meeting like this." It was a trite line, but he didn't care. It had the desired effect. The sister giggled and flushed faintly pink. Noah decided that, yes, he liked her. She reminded him of a teddy bear come to life. She was small and a little chubby, with hair that floated on the winter wind like a cloud. It was hard not to like that.

  West did not smile. If anything he got paler and stiffer looking. The chill from outside had turned his cheeks pink, but it looked washed out on him compared to his sister. He was all warm browns from his hair to his melted caramel eyes and yet he still managed to look cool whenever Noah saw him. Maybe it was a special skill of his. Or maybe it was the grudge he was (very effectively) holding.

  "What are you doing here?" the sister asked. It might have been a rude question from anyone else.

  "I live here."

  It wasn't exactly untrue. Noah had put in countless hours behind the counter here through college—and after dropping out of college when it came to that. He had been an institution. Long shifts. The smell of coffee saturating his hair and clothes. There had been plenty of days when he saw more of the shop than his own apartment. The free caffeine had kept him running when exhaustion and stress threatened to drown him. And he still filled in whenever they needed an extra hand or he needed an extra paycheck. The shop wasn't home. He was too comfortable for it to be home.

  "But today, I'm just visiting," he went on. "And collecting some work. It was time for the changing of the guard. Come. Join me."

  Noah patted the seat of one of the empty chairs at his table. Only two of the four were taken up. One by his ass. The other by the cardboard box of his carefully packed prints. The owner of the coffee shop liked him so Noah had worked out a consignment deal back when he was first striking out on his own with photography. Once every few months Noah hung new photos on the shop walls and changed out the old ones and if any of his work sold, the owner got a commission and they made excited noises at each other. He wasn't sure who was happier about the occasional sales, him or the owner. It didn't happen often, but it was always a n
ice little bonus when they did. Never knew when an extra hundred bucks might be the difference between real food and living off the kindness of Chef Boyardee.

  He had just finished making the swap and affixing the tags to the wall beneath each print. That was always his favorite part. They were only the size of business cards. Hell, they basically were business cards. Except instead of a Tom Smith, DDS they had the photo's name and most importantly the price. It was funny how special a few cents worth of paper stuck on a wall could make him feel. Living the dream. Selling his work—even rarely. It was what he'd wanted for so long and it always put him in a good mood.

  The sister latched onto the chair furthest from Noah and sat down. He gave her a wry look. He knew from the store that she wasn't the least bit shy. So that left only one reason for that little tactical maneuver. Touching. But maybe a little misguided.

  Noah eyed West as he in turn eyed the vacant seat. It was so obvious that he was trying to formulate an excuse that Noah could have laughed. He didn't. What he did do was wait. And stare. People hated staring and he knew the full force of his could be unnerving, but that was what he wanted. After the little showdown at the store, when he was at a disadvantage no less (fuck you, customer service), he was due a little payback. West already had him on his shit list; he might as well earn his spot the old fashioned way. With hard work and determination. Maybe a sprinkle of spite. Nothing less would do.

  West didn't sit. Instead he retreated toward the counter. "Do you want your usual?" he asked over his shoulder. The question was presumably aimed at his sister since his eyes never went anywhere near Noah. He'd watched just to see if they did. The neglect was starting to hurt his feelings.

  "He isn't usually this rude," said the sister.

  Noah turned back to the welcome sight of a smile on her face. Clearly he wasn't going to be getting one of those from West anytime soon. "Oh? I feel so special."