“It’s easier that way.” I shrug.
Brad’s lips press into a straight line as he stares down at his empty plate. His eyes find mine again, and I notice just how serious he looks. “I’m not going to make it easy for you.”
My gaze softens. “You don’t.”
Brad’s hand slips slowly down from my neck and starts rubbing long strokes up and down my back. It feels so damn good, it makes me squeeze his thigh involuntarily.
“I don’t need anyone else, anyway. I can be your best friend and you can be mine.” I smile.
Brad licks his lips, eyes flickering down to mine. The energy between us is shifting, growing warm and thick. Leaning in, he grazes my bottom lip with his. “You want to be all mine, Noah?” he asks softly.
I nod slowly. My eyes flutter shut as he kisses my lips gently.
“Okay,” he agrees. “You’re all mine, and I’m all yours.”
32
Brad
“You're lying!” Noah slams his hand on his stomach, laughing like there’s no tomorrow.
“I'm serious! Managed to grow my hair a little longer than yours. I even had a leather jacket.” I run my hand down my face as the memories flash through my mind.
"I'm going to need to see a picture of this," Noah chuckles.
“While all my classmates were rocking frosted tips and muscle shirts, I was all about that grunge life, baby. Mom and dad werethrilled. Lasted about a week before they made me buzz my hair off.”
“IknewI saw something in you. Me and you would’ve beengreatfriends.” He shakes his head, lounging back on the couch. Arms spread along the edge.
I lick my lips, leaning back too. “We would’ve gotten into trouble.”
Noah raises his eyebrows and nods his head. “Oh, only thebestkind.” Lust dripping off his tone.
This makes me think deeper than I probably should right now. The fact is, today was so much fun that it hurts. Being carefree, without the shadow of my guilt hanging around us. We could just…be.And, our natural state is fucking fun. But not just fun—easy, too. Like, we don’t have to think. We just…moveand it’s right.
It’s frightening how much I don’t want to lose it.
“You want to see something cool?” I ask him.
He sits up, nodding his head excitedly.
“Wait right there.” I run up the stairs, and make a beeline for my closet. Once I put a few things together, I run back downstairs.
Noah’s jaw drops once he sees what I’m carrying. With a portable record player under one arm and a box full of records under the other. I set both on the ground and get to work making it come together. Haven’t whipped this out in ages.
“Oh shit! This is so cool.” Noah rushes over, meeting me on the ground. “I’ve never played around with one before.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “Seriously?” I find that surprising, but I don’t push. Instead, I search through my box of vinyl and flip through for a specific album.
“When I was your age, I used to go to as many concerts as I possibly could,” I explain. “Afterward, I’d collect the CDs as keepsakes. But vinyl… vinyl was my obsession. Stopping at vinyl shops, flipping through collections for hours, feeling the different weights, seeing the colors, experiencing the sound in a whole new way—that was my thing.”
Noah’s eyes glisten. “Why don’t you still collect them? You definitely should,” he insists.
I smile at his eagerness. “You make me want to restart everything.”
“You’re still young. Why not?” He shrugs his shoulders. "Can we go check out a store together?"
Fuck. He’s perfect.
