AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When we met, he’d been helping my roommate, Mallory, who’d been singing, loudly and badly, into our dorm room. She’d gotten too drunk at a party hosted by her older brother. Noah and I had made eye contact, and I saw the amusement and request for understanding without him saying a word.
I’d winced when my roommate hit an uncomfortably high note and Noah had laughed out loud. He’s always had my favorite laugh, a deep, rolling vibration that lights up the darkest spaces.
I’d helped him get her into bed.
And that was it. He stayed to make sure she was okay, and we talked for three hours. I’d been on a strict no dating policy, my full attention on school and work and getting my dream job, but if I hadn’t made that clear to him and he’d actually asked me out… I often wonder how my life might be different.
Arty puts his front hooves on the couch and headbutts my knees, distracting me from memories of Noah.
I almost thank the dumb goat. “Ow. No head butting, okay, buddy?” I gently urge Arty off the couch, tilt my head back and shout Dani’s name.
It’s not Dani who appears in the den thirty seconds later, though. It’s Honey, with her long, dyed black hair in braids, her nightgown sporting a picture of a cartoon doll she loved when she was a kid.
For a moment, I’m thrust back in time to when Honey, the youngest of us sisters, was still in elementary school, an adorable, sweet kid with a delicate blond fluff of hair.
Then she opens her mouth, her scowl hint enough she’s pissed. “What the fuck? It’s my day to sleep in. And Dani’s already at work.” She narrows her eyes. “Not all of us can make our own hours.”
“Sorry, Honey.” My baby sister is an absolute beast if she doesn’t get her eight hours every night. “Arty’s attacking us and we don’t know what to do.”
She pauses like she’s waiting for the punch line. “You take him back to his barn. It doesn’t require waking up the whole house.”
Clover, with her boyfriend Asher right behind her, appears in the doorway. They’re bright-eyed and glistening like they just got back from a run, except they’re in pajamas, so I’d guess they were in Clover’s bedroom getting another kind of workout.
Ew. I don’t need to think about my sister like that.
“Arty attacked us,” Noah says. “He’s got us pinned in.”
Clover smiles, her eyes lighting. “Did you two sleep down here?”
“We fell asleep watching movies,” I say quickly. Way too quickly, judging by Clover’s raised brows. “Can someone please take this goat before he headbutts me again?”
Anyone but Honey would probably have told me to go fuck myself and walk away, but Honey is a gentle soul at heart. She marches over and scratches Arty’s ears. “He’s a goat, Daisy. And he’s a third of your size.” She pauses and looks at the ceiling. “A fourth of your size?” She huffs and lowers her chin to glare at me. “Whatever, he’s smaller than you. And he’s driven by a desire for food.”
Honey magically produces a carrot from a hidden pocket of her nightgown and holds it out to Arty.
“You sleep with carrots in your pockets?” Noah asks. He’s still behind me, one arm around me, and I lean back against him. As dangerous as it might be to get in the habit of snuggling with him, I can’t resist any longer.
“I get hungry in the middle of the night sometimes,” Honey says, as if that explains everything.
Arty stretches out his neck to get the carrot, but keeps one eye on me the whole time he chomps away. Like I’m the one who attacked him.
“I think he hates me.” I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them while Noah chuckles in my ear.
“Keep carrots in your pockets.” Honey pulls a carrot from her other pocket and uses it to lead Arty out of the den.
“Am I still asleep?” I ask no one in particular.
My phone vibrates on the coffee table, and I grab it. I’m expecting a call from my colleague and best friend, Sadie Green, with an update on the latest happenings at Tenth Avenue Books, my former employer. I’ve worked there for the past five years, climbing the ladder, and I made it to editor before I quit.
I’m living vicariously through Sadie now. Plus, it’s really satisfying to hear how many of my former authors are insisting they only want to work with me.
The screen says Tenth Avenue books and I break free of Noah’s hold, hop off the couch, phone in hand, wiggle past Clover and Asher, and race to the empty kitchen.
I put the phone to my ear, slightly breathless. “Hello?”
“Miss Weston. This is Leonard Fernwood. Do you have a few moments?”
I glance around to see that Noah, Clover, and Asher have followed me into the kitchen and are making no effort to hide their attempts to eavesdrop. “Yes. Just give me two minutes.”
