Page 31 of The Has-Been

But I turn and walk out, refusing to look back. Outside, I duck into Noah’s car, and he pulls away almost as fast as my racing heart. The entire ride, I replay Liam’s words over and over again.

I would have rather he said, “Hey, Aubrey, go fuck yourself.” Because what the hell did he mean by, “It’s good to see you?”

We arrived at Noah’s apartment around thirty minutes ago. It’s just him and me, as his roommates are gone for the night.

Because...convenient, right?

Then again, I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to this date.

What did Rory and Reese say…I just need...release.

Yeah, that was it.

I just need release.

A way to get my mind off Liam.

But that’s impossible to fucking do now because I just had to see him at the diner. And he just had to fucking speak to me.

Not just speak to me but to say, of all things: It’s good to see you.

Why would he do that? Why would he say that? Because now I can’t think of anything else…Even with Noah Pierce’s hand trailing up and down my leg. Even with him leaning in, his lips a breath away from mine.

And I can’t fucking think of anything but Liam.

“Let’s go to your room,” I blurt.

My eyelashes tickle my skin as I flutter them closed. Do I sound desperate or what? At this point, I guess I am…Desperate to get Liam Anderson out of my mind.

“Fuck, yes,” Noah groans, leading me from our position on the couch to his room down the hall.

When he opens his door, my face twists. It smells like sweaty boy and dirty socks.

Gross.

His room is a disaster—clothes thrown about, football equipment shoved into the corner. But I’m willing to overlook all of that as he pulls his shirt off.

Good fucking Lord.

Yeah, I totally wouldn’t last ten minutes in a church without combusting. But go ahead and send me to hell because Noah Pierce is sinfully hot.

Okay, fine—maybe I won’t kill my cousins.

I can totally work with this. I can do this. I can sleep with him. I want to sleep with him⁠—

My stomach sinks. Oh, seriously, who the fuck am I kidding?

Noah strides toward me, very large and intimidating. The back of my legs slam into his bed. And I can’t help but wonder: when was the last time he washed his sheets? How many girls have been all over them? I shiver just at the thought.

Noah loops his thumbs around his sweatpants, pulling them down. His dick springs free...basically staring right at me.

I tilt my head, letting out a deep breath, suddenly feeling a lot less nervous.

Because why is it smaller than I imagined?

I try not to think about whose...thing...I’m currently comparing Noah to, which is totally unfair.

He leans in, towering over me, which isn’t unusual considering I’m barely five-four. His lips crash into mine, demanding a response. He kisses me quickly—urgently. Nothing at all like the passionate, slow ones I was once so accustomed to.