My Brothers Best Friend [18+]

Chapter Four

Noah winds up his window once I'm in the car and presses a button that immediately makes my seat begin warming up. I melt into it as we pull into the street. 

"Good day?" I ask him. 

"Are we going to having this same conversation every evening?" He muses. I scoff at him; I was merely being polite. "It was decent. I got to work on a Range Rover that only came out last year. How was your day?" 

"Better now that I'm here," I sigh, sinking further into the seat. He goes quiet, and I elaborate: "In the heated seats. Your car. It's nice." 

"Long day?" He observes. I watch his fingers twist around the gear-stick and tighten when he pulls the car into fifth gear. 

"A lot of meetings." 

"And a bit of eyeliner to go with them?" 

I blush, having forgot about that briefly. I haven't looked at myself yet, but thankfully I trust that Chelsea wouldn't make me look like a clown. 

"We'll probably skip dinner tonight. Do you want me to swing through the drive-thru?" 

"Please," I breathe. I see him nod in my peripherals, and he swings round the roundabout once more before taking a different exit. "Thanks for driving me around. I can give you some petrol money tonight if you'd like." 

His lips purse. 

"How many times am I going to have to tell you that I don't mind driving you around?" 

"You see cars all day. I just thought you might get a bit sick of them." 

He grins and shakes his head. There's that dimple again, deep set into his cheek. 

I recognise the drive-thru from Sunday morning, but this time as we pull around to it two bright orange cones stop us in our tracks. It's closed. Noah sighs and drives past them, to the car park. 

Watching him reverse into a parking space should not be as sexy as I find it, but the skill of it all and the lip that's sucked into his mouth when he pulls the handbrake up makes my hands clench. 

"Guess we'll have to go in," he smiles. 

"At least I'm not getting crumbs in your car." I nudge him. We walk to the entrance side by side. 

"You've already got your hair all over it anyway. I can't go five minutes without pulling a ginger hair out of the vents or some shit." 

I laugh. His eyes follow my hands as they run through my hair, pulling it over my shoulders so it frames my face. He holds the door open for me, and we use a quick-pay machine to order our food. I pay before Noah can, grumbling about petrol and driving and letting me use his hoodie so he doesn't have room to argue with me. 

We take the food back out to his car and I sink back into my seat - still warm from the drive. 

I don't even wait for him before diving into my fries, putting three in my mouth at a time.

"You put food away like a dude." 

"Don't be so sexist," I laugh around the mouthful. I hand him his burger, and try not to look at the way his legs are spread out wide in the small space under the steering wheel. "So what does game night entail?" 

"It's a little lame," he warns me. "We get drunk and argue about monopoly, for the most part. I hope you're ready for a hangover tomorrow." 

"I'm decent at monopoly." 

"Decent isn't good enough if you're playing against me," he winks. I almost swoon. 

He reaches his hand out and I blink at it briefly before reaching into the bag of food and pulling out his fries. He takes them wordlessly.