My Brothers Best Friend [18+]

Chapter Five

Noah's smile is immediate when he see's the stuffed sheep on the counter. He turns it so it's facing him in the kitchen and throws me a wink that turns my legs into jelly. 

As Matt collapses onto the sofa next to me, whirring starts up from some appliance in the kitchen. 

"I've got to say, I thought you'd eat a takeaway every night." 

Matt chuckles at my honesty, flicking through the channels with the TV remote. 

"We unofficially started taking turns ages ago," he explains. "I guess you're involved in the turns now too." 

"I'm kind of a crappy cook." 

"That stir fry thing was nice enough - just throw things in an appliance and hope for the best. I tend to go for the air fryer. Noah-" He begins to speak louder, emphasising Noah's name, "tends to make me want to wife him up." 

Noah's lips are risen at the edges when he turns to give Matt a pointed look. 

"Where'd you learn to cook, Noah?" I ask. 

"We survived on burnt oven food growing up. Mum can't turn the hob on for shit."

I laugh at Matt's confession, watching Noah carry a frying pan into the room, shoving around at whatever is in it with a wooden spoon. It already smells divine and he's only been in the kitchen a few minutes. 

"My dad taught me," he tells me, still stirring. "I think he won my mother over through her stomach." 

"His parents are still together," Matt announces without looking at me. "Isn't that sickening?" 

"Gross," I chime, grinning up at Noah as he shakes his head at us both and returns the pan to the hob. A sizzling starts, and then I watch as he expertly begins chopping up a food wheel of vegetables on the island. "I bet you're an only child too, huh?" 

"No sharing presents at Christmas for me," he sings. 

Matt and I laugh. I turn back to the TV to see what he's decided we should watch, scowling at the bikini models running along the beach on the screen in slow motion. 

It makes sense that Noah's parents are still together. He seems so sure of himself, so adult and put together despite only being twenty-four. He's not got girls here every night, and I know he could pull them - easily. I'd be more surprised if girls didn't fall at his feet; he's gorgeous and sweet and his voice drips by my ears like honey when he talks. 

He's got a job, he's got mates, he's got a nice car - is there anything this man doesn't have? Is there a flaw in there somewhere?

And he's singing quietly again while he cooks. 

I think if he took off his shirt and put on an apron instead I'd have a breakdown.

Matt and I watch TV for a while as I continue straining to hear Noah sing to himself whilst things fry and sizzle and smell divine. It seems to take a while for the meal to be finished, but he's grinning as he sets the plates onto the island and calls us over. 

Smoosh is leant up against an empty vase, half leaning to one side.

"Prime rib," Noah announces, pulling out my chair for me as Matt takes the seat opposite. 

"This looks incredible." 

It does. It looks juicy and seared perfectly, a deep brown colour that appears about ready to fall off the bone. There's a dollop of mash next to it, and then a mound of mixed vegetables, all fried and golden looking too. 

"This is more than usual, dude." Matt's eyes are wide. 

Noah takes the seat next to me, sliding in easily without his feet having to even leave the ground. Mine almost dangle, toes just about able to touch the floor, and I've always considered myself rather tall.