Page 28 of Lift Me Up

When his eyes open, his pupils are huge and he’s blushing. “Sorry, I⁠—”

“Why are you sorry?” I say with a laugh.

“I’m just—it feels good, and I normally don’t make those very manly noises out loud and—” He makes a similar noise when this time I use my nails to massage his scalp. His eyes roll back and the grin on his face grows.

“And?” I continue my motions.

He sighs, “And… Believe me I’d let you do it all day if I could but if you don’t stop, we’re going to have… an issue I cannot rectify.”

I don’t understand what he means until my fingers catch in a tangle, and he hisses, looking at me with that look that makes me wet in an instant, and his hands fumble to adjust the fanny pack.

“Oh.” I blush.

“Yeah. Oh.” He says with flaming hot cheeks.

Me. I did that. I can’t help but look, then quickly glance away. Birdie glances lazily between the two of us, huffing and walking towards the door to go back inside.

I nod in her direction, “Guess we should follow Birdie’s lead.”

“Guess so.” He groans when he has to get up, turns away no doubt to adjust the situation I caused, and I can’t help but feel slightly proud of myself.

We corral the dogs, Noah guiding each one to their respective kennels. He doesn’t seem mad about the situation before this, which is good because it was an honest happy accident, literally. But he’s quiet, possibly embarrassed, and covering himself with the fanny pack and his sweater for the foreseeable future.

The entire time, I can’t help but think about the noises he made, and the blown away look in his eyes. I can’t help but wonder if it was because of what I was doing to accidentally make that happen, or because it was me who did it. All I know is I want it again, to feel him relax into me again with parted lips and a gasp caught in his lungs. It makes my mouth dry thinking about it.

“Thirsty?”

“I’m sorry what?” I choke, finding Noah holding out a drink bottle to me.

“Thirsty?” He says again with a smile, wiggling the blue bottle of what I think may be juice at me. I take it, the sweet elixir of blue raspberry filling my senses.

“What is this?”

“Blue raspberry lemonade Kool-Aid.”

“Wow.” I take a sip, and I’ll admit it’s really good. Like my childhood coming back in waves. I snort at his indignation, “How old are we?”

“Hey.” He pouts, trying to take back the bottle. “I only share my good stuff with people I like. But if you’re not worthy of the precious, I will revoke your privileges.”

I only share my good stuff with people I like.

“No!” I gulp the rest down before he can take it, flashing what I assume is a blue-stained teeth grin in his direction.

“Really mature.” He nods to himself but it’s all in playfulness.

I half expect us to part ways when we reach the craft store, but when I stop, and he keeps walking, Noah turns to me and says, “A true gentleman always walks the lady home after they’ve been playing with dogs all day,”

“Wow, you really know how to charm a woman,” I tease him slightly, but damn it I hate that I mean it too.

He really could charm the pants off anyone. Dogs, humans, aliens. The possibilities are endless. And he’d do it just by hitting them with that award-winning smile, just by being himself. It’s infuriating, and I love everything about it.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

GEORGIE

Noah walks me home just as he said he would, and all the while we walk in comfortable silence. If you consider shifting glances and starts to conversations that die the moment we open our mouths to start them ‘comfortable.’ If Birdie were here, we would talk about her, her cute little booty and her hippo body and the way she looks back when you’re walking with her just to make sure you’re still there.

I feel something slip into my hand, weaving fingers between mine and the solid presence staying there. If I stop, I might scare this moment away, scare Noah away from the confidence he built to do this, to hold my hand casually as if my heart is not pounding in my chest and in my ears and my mouth has gone dry, and my palms are possibly sweaty. Oh god, what if my palms are sweaty? I try to gauge his reaction, but Noah just smiles and whistles as we walk around the final corner and then my building is to the right.