“Hot chocolate,” Michael says, handing him one before I follow them to the living room. The movie is ready to go, so I take a seat between David and Noah, catching the latter’s smile as I take a tiny sip of my drink.
“This is delicious,” I tell him while Owen passes around candy canes, which Colt and Michael use to stir in some peppermint.
“I felt bad I made you miss out,” Noah explains.
“This is perfect,” I say instead of assuring him that I much prefer what actually happened that night.
We’re quiet at the beginning, our mouths busy sipping and sampling, but by the end of the movie, we’re singing along, with Noah’s arm on the couch behind me, his side pressed against mine, my heart rate way too elevated for someone sitting down and watching a kid’s movie.
“Do you have time to complete the trilogy?” Owen asks me while he and Colt clear the empty mugs.
“Sure,” I say. “It’s not that late.”
* * *
It was 8:30, but then we make popcorn – multiple bags – with butter, and pause the movie a half dozen times, so it’s past eleven by the time we’re done, and I’m half-asleep on Noah’s chest. Not that the others are more alert.
“I’ll walk you home?” Noah asks through a yawn, extending his arms, so I reluctantly sit up. I immediately miss the closeness.
“I’ll be fine, you’re tired,” I assure him, catching the yawn bug.
“Pot, meet kettle.” Owen chuckles.
“I can stay on the couch if you want my room,” Colt offers, getting a glare from Noah.
“I don’t want to put you out,” I argue. “It isn’t even midnight.”
“It’s dark, the middle of the night, drunk drivers,” Noah repeats my warning from last time.
“On a Monday?” I ask.
We’re the only two left in the living room, the others dealing with the popcorn bowls in the kitchen.
“Are you opposed to staying over?” Noah quirks an eyebrow, but I don’t want to remind him he’s the one who ran off at the crack of dawn and doesn’t want this to be a relationship. “My bed’s a lot bigger than yours,” he adds.
“I don’t have my things.” I’m the type of person who doesn’t sleep over without my toothbrush, my face wash, and a change of clothes, but tonight, none of those are reason enough for me to not want to. I’m literally hoping he’ll tell me it doesn’t matter. That he wants me to stay.
“Owen’s sister stocked us up with a full hospitality drawer, and I can lend you pjs.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t really care either way, but he’s looking at me like he doesn’t want me to leave, and I know I’d rather stay here with him than in my dorm with Anna, so I take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”
* * *
The guys don’t let Noah or I help with the cleanup, so we go upstairs and Noah finds me something to sleep in, then shows me the ‘hospitality drawer’ which has toothbrushes, conditioner, razors, a first aid kit, makeup remover, moisturizer, hair elastics, and whatever else a girl could need for a sleepover. I’m very curious about this sister of Owen’s, especially when there’s Midol, tampons, and pads in there as well.
I brush my teeth and put the clothes on before heading back to Noah’s room, but I have to hold up the shorts so they don’t fall. I don’t know if it’s an oversight, or if Noah intentionally set me up to be pantless, but I give up once I’m safe inside his room.
“Shoot, those don’t fit.” He looks remorseful, but he’s also smiling, like he enjoys what he sees.
“Your shirt is basically a dress on me,” I say, climbing out of his shorts and tossing them over to his hamper, as if I don’t see the difference between shorts and panties as a barrier between us.
He doesn’t speak, so I look over and find him watching me, his eyes focused on my legs. I’m very happy I shaved them this morning, because he’s sort of looking like he wants to devour me, which I now know is a thing. Not just in the creepy cannibal way.
Noah strips down to his boxers, which means the t-shirt was probably for my benefit last time, but I’m not upset about it. He has a body like roman sculptures, and I’ve never understood that whole, wanting to lick his abs thing, but honestly, I wouldn’t be opposed.
Instead of climbing into bed, he walks over and kisses me, not hungry, but very thoroughly, and it makes my knees weak.
“I’ve been waiting to do that since you got here,” he says like it was torture, which tells me both that he wants me (yay!), and that he’s opposed to even his roommates finding out (boo!). But also, what does he think they think is going on right now?
