flirt - noah puckerman

Chapter 22

chapter twenty-two - stuck in the middle 

Noah's POV 

I bring my car to a stop in front of Erin's house and see her quickly slip out of the front door.  A grin creeps across my lips as she makes her way over to the car and hops into the passenger seat.

"Don't get your hopes up, Puckerman," she frowns, as I pull out of the driveway.  I look over and cock an eyebrow at her.  "There's a lot of rich old people in Lima-- I'm just trying to use their big ass yards to tan," she explains. 

"Sweet, so you're going to be in your swimsuit the whole time?" I wink at her, making her groan in frustration.  "I'm joking, Erin," I laugh at her exaggerated reaction.  

"Good," she rolls her eyes at me and crosses her arms over her chest. 

"Woah," I furrow my eyebrows at her cold tone. "What's with the attitude?  I thought you wanted to help me."   

"I do want to help you," she sighs.  "Sam just doesn't want you flirting with me," she shrugs. 

"What about you?" I smirk. 

"What about me?" 

"Do you want me flirting with you?" I pause and look over at her.  Her eyes widen in shock as she shifts in her seat. 

"No," she scoffs and returns her eyes to the road.  

We sit in the sound of my car radio for the rest of the short drive to the Betterton's house.  I pull into the driveway, and Erin quickly hops out of the car and stares at me expectantly.

"I already got my daily dose of old people at temple this morning," I shrug. 

She rolls her eyes at me before walking over to knock on the front door.  I make my way around the car to the trunk, watching as the old couple greets her warmly and gestures towards the backyard.  They disappear back into the house, as Erin comes back over to me.  

"You really should've come introduce yourself, Noah," she frowns at me.  

"I don't really dig moms over the age of fifty," I shrug, making her groan in annoyance before reluctantly leading me towards the fenced in backyard.  

---

Erin's POV

I sat back on the lounge chair set up on the patio, drinking an iced lemonade provided by the Bettertons, while Noah mows the lawn.  He pulls the riding mower over to the edge of the patio and turns it off.

"I thought you were supposed to be hanging out with me," he frowns. 

"I am hanging out with you," I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.  

"You're all the way on the deck." 

"What do you want me to do?  I'm not going to sit on your lap while you mow the lawn, Noah," I roll my eyes. 

"You've left me no choice," he smirks, before slipping his shirt over his head and throwing it over to land on the chair beside me.  I look up at him and muffle down a grin as he looks down and flexes his arms. 

"Noah, stop," I attempt to keep a stern tone, but let out an involuntary laugh as he ran his fingers through his mohawk and smirked at me.  He grins at how entertained I was and quickly hops off of the lawn mower to grab the water hose sitting by the garden.  I sit up and widen my eyes. 

"You are already wearing your swimsuit..." he flashes me a devilish grin as I give him a warning look. 

"Noah-" I warn.