Apartment 311

Ch | 78

Noah Silas Anderson

Chapter Seventy-eight: "The desert eagle"

"Mmm," Brooklyn moaned against my lips as we walked out of the elevator.

I carried her in my arms and stumbled against a random door.

"Hey!" A stranger's voice yelled from beyond their apartment.

"Sorry!" Brooklyn and I shouted in unison and laughed it off.

She dropped out of my arms and smoothed her skirt down before pulling me to 311.

As she fished for her keys, I kissed along her shoulder, up her neck, and jawline.

She squealed and squirmed under me and finally opened the door, letting us inside at three in the morning.

Brooklyn threw her heels down by the door and made sure I locked it since I walked in last.

"Hungry?" she asked, her voice scratchy from a night of cheering.

"You know me," I replied and burped, kicking my shoes off, as well.

"Mac and cheese?" She offered, eyeing the contents of one cabinet.

"If you make it right," I teased and she flipped me off.

After what seemed like an eternity because I was so starving, Brooklyn presented me on the couch with a bowl of Kraft mac n' cheese.

"Careful!" She warned me, pushing the bowl from my lips. "It's hot, babe."

I didn't even care, my stomach was demanding I put food in it that second.

She curled up to me and blew the spoonful of macaroni as I turned on these satisfying house tour videos on YouTube.

"I wanna live in a house like that!" She said, excited about the on-screen woodsy luxury home in Nebraska.

"I don't like the kitchen," I commented with a mouthful.

She sucked her teeth and said, "You never like any of the ones I like. It's rustic."

"It's tacky," I responded, turning up the volume to hear the poppy background music.

Brooklyn shivered dramatically and said, "I'm cold!"

"You're always cold," I remarked.

She ignored my comment and pushed my jacket off the throw blanket behind her head.
We both heard something fall to the floor and she groaned, knowing she had to get it. I thought it was my phone and grunted, annoyed.

"Shut up," she snarled, pushing my head as she rolled over the back of the couch to get whatever had fallen from my pockets.

"Noah, what the Hell is this?" She asked me, holding up the carton of cigarettes I meant to give Vince. And of course I couldn't tell her why I had them and who they were for.

Fuck, now I gotta lie to her. And it better be a good one, she can call me on my bullshit.

"You're smoking now, Noah?" She questioned, sounding disappointed. I know how bad it looks but see how women just jump to conclusions?

I hung my head, having conjured up a good enough lie. "Uh, yeah, babe. I started when I was stressed with everything we had going on. And, I didn't even tell you, but Rick and I were fighting at that time, too."

"Oh no, is everything okay?" She whimpered, easing back down onto the couch.

I nodded. "It is now, like nothing ever happened."