Page 150 of Under the Lies

“Use your words, Noah.” I grin, closing my laptop.

He glares at my teasing tone. “Food. Now.”

Such a caveman. He slides me a plate while standing on the other side of the bar to eat his.

We’re eating our food in companionable silence when the lights to the apartment go off. So do the surrounding lights from the buildings around us. I stiffen as they flicker off.

“Looks like the blackout is spreading.” Noah doesn’t bother to pick his head up from where it hovers above his plate. He’s wolfing his food down while I’ve barely touched mine.

Noah wipes his mouth with a napkin, putting his empty dish in the sink. “You don’t like it?” He frowns at my picked at plate.

“No, it’s delicious,” I reassure him, seeing some tension leave his shoulders. But I set my fork down, anyway. “I’m going to go change, though.”

I need a second, or several, alone. It’s not as bad as when I wake up in the middle of the night, not knowing my surroundings for a second, but it takes me a minute to ease the pain in my lungs. I need to get up. Do something. Change outfits. Something to feel in control again.

“Why do you want to do that?” He takes in my hard nipples that pierce through the shirt’s fabric.

“Because this” —I trace the pert bud and his nostrils flare— “means I’m cold. They’re not for you to stare at.”

“What about suck on?” he prowls toward me.

I knew it! He wants a sexfest. I put my hands out to keep him at a distance. He walks right into my palms, not caring.

I scramble off the chair and dart away. “Oh no you don’t, mister!” I run around the island. “There will be none of that until I get my schoolwork done.”

Noah groans but concedes.

However, I don’t trust him though as I skirt around him and to the stairs, expecting him to reach out and grab me. But he doesn’t. Doesn’t even make a sound until I reach the stairs.

That’s when I hear him mumble, “It better not be that damn penguin onesie.”

I stop mid-step, shooting him a look. “There’s nothing wrong with my onesie.”

“You’re going to come back down in it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” I can’t fight the grin on my face. “You’re just going to have to be patient and find out.”

“One day I’m going to burn that thing.”

I gasp, leaning over the railing so he sees how serious I am when I say, “You will do no such thing, Noah Kincaid. If I ever find it missing, I will smother you in your sleep and call Thea to help me dispose of your body.”

He raises a brow, not scared but impressed. “I don’t know if I like you hanging out with Thea. She’s putting murderous thoughts into your head.”

“Oh no, Thea didn’t do that,” I correct him, continuing my climb up the stairs. “You did, Noah. A long time ago.”

His laugh follows me up to the second floor and I find myself grinning at the sound. Never did I think this would be us, that it would feel this effortless in our dynamics.

There’s no pushing or pulling.

There’s only Noah and me. Existing, laughing. Thriving together in a way that feels right. Natural and has always been.

What I felt for him back when I was in prep school is on another plane right now. Heightened to the point of him being my first thought of the day and my last at night.

I came back here because I was lost and hollow, but now I hardly remember what that feels like.

Now, I feel weightless and my laughs are more genuine, my shoulders less tense.

And it’s in thanks to that man downstairs. He’s opened my eyes and showed me what I’ve been missing. A world I didn’t see before. He’s shown me that it’s okay to live outside the black and white, finding excitement in the shades of gray.

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