My Brothers Best Friend [18+]

Chapter Twenty One

Noah does behave, mostly. 

Sat in his the passenger seat of his car, I think of our phone conversation from the day before. It felt normal, flirting and talking about getting together like it was an everyday occurrence. 

When he picked me up from work yesterday afternoon he didn't mention the phone call, but I saw the once over I got when I sat down. I also didn't miss the long looks he gave me in the evening whenever he thought I wasn't looking. 

But that counts as behaving, I think. 

I've not been trying to behave as much. My open staring has not been toned down, and I've swapped out my winter pajamas for slightly sexier summer ones; sexy enough that I can get away with it without Matt asking about the change in attire. 

Staring at him is a privilege that I refuse to let go of. 

Now that I'm starting to learn more about Noah and we're getting to know each other properly, his tells are becoming obvious. 

He's nervous under my stare, not overtly, but there's a flickering of the eyes that gives him away. Sometimes he'll swap his weight between his feet and roll his shoulders back, or he'll bite his lip and glance over at me so quickly I almost miss it. 

And I swear he's trying to make me salivate over him to a greater extent than I already do. The gym shirts are getting tighter, the aftershave I like is making frequent appearances, and he seems to constantly find a way to flex his muscles when I'm around.

"Is it alright if I make a stop at the garage?" Noah asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. I peer over to him, then to the outstretched arm going across the empty space between us and disappearing behind my headrest. His eyes follow mine. "I've got some paperwork I need to drop off." 

"Yeah, no worries," I smile. 

He smiles too, but I know damn well that he knows I've just checked him out. 

It's surprising that I'm not bothered about going to the garage because we're already going to be late arriving to game night at Dan's grandparents house. I finished work almost an hour later than I should've, with Noah and Chelsea hovering over my desk trying to help me finish the spreadsheet that Zach needed in today. 

By 'trying to help' I mean they were completely unhelpful, but emotionally supportive. 

We turn down dark roads I don't recognise and squeeze through an even darker alleyway, but eventually he pulls into one of the four spaces in front of a large shuttered building. 

He switches off the car, the image of the garage in front of me disappearing as the headlights do. 

"This building gives me the creeps at night," Noah reveals, also looking out into the abyss in front of us. "But you're coming with me, aren't you?" 

"No," I snort. 

"Uh huh," he hums, and practically leaps out of the car. He's half invisible without any streetlamps around, ominously moving around without a sound. I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable. 

My car door is ripped open, a gust of cold air forcing its way into the car. Noah follows, leaning in to un-do my seatbelt and pull me out. I don't fight him, but I do let myself stumble into his chest so his arms wrap around me. 

We stay like that, against each other and fighting off the wind, as he gets a folder out of the boot and locks the car. 

Then I'm under his arm and led towards a side door, held between his arms as he press three keys into different locks. We step into a cold room that's pitch black, and all I can smell is Noah's aftershave as he keeps me pressed to his chest.