Bad Things

|Chapter Twenty-Three|

Noah is leaning on his car with his legs crossed at the ankles when I get out of baggage claim.  He's beautiful with his hair flying around his face in the wind.  I abandon my things where I am and charge him before throwing myself in his waiting arms.

"Did you work your shit out?"

Noah doesn't say anything to me, just cradles the back of my head before pressing his lips to mine.  It takes the breath from my lungs.  I'm shaky as Noah puts me back on my feet, but he doesn't let go of me while he grabs my things and loads them into his trunk.

"Let's go home, we have some catching up to do," Noah says before releasing me so that I can get into his car.

"And some making up," I grin at him, Noah's hand grips my thigh as he navigates the traffic.

Noah's home is modest, even though I know he's loaded because of his father. It's a little off the beaten path, with a small yard. It's decorated much the same as his apartment. His leather couch sits against the south wall and there's a frame holding the bands album placed above it. I smile at the sight of it, so proud of him. Noah disappears to go grab my bags while I continue taking in the house. There's a bouquet of wildflowers sitting on the bar in the kitchen.

A sob catches in my throat as I reach out to touch the flowers delicately. Noah comes back in at that moment. He effortlessly drops my things at the door and crosses the room to me.

"Don't cry, pretty girl," he says gently, wrapping his arms around me.

"It's what I do," I shrug in his embrace, not caring that my tears are soaking his shirt. "I missed you so damn much."

"I missed you too, pretty girl," he kisses the top of my head, "I'm not letting you out of my sight for a single second for the rest of our lives."

"Yeah, what about when you go on tour?"

"Okay, only then."

"What about when I go on tour again?"

"Not allowed," he jokes and I give him a look. "Fine, only when we are both on tour."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he kisses my head again and I sink into him. "The flowers were supposed to make you happy, not make you cry, by the way."

I chuckle into his chest, "I love them. Sometimes, when you do something thoughtful, it makes me emotional because I've never had that."

"That's tragic, but I'll do my best to get you to expect it. Because you are worthy of everything you want, pretty girl."

"You're going to make me cry again," I say, leaning back to look up at him. He uses his thumbs to wipe my tears away before gripping my face to kiss me. Slowly. Lazily. Searingly.

"I have the whole day planned, you can't spend it crying," he whispers.

"Does it involve sex and sex?"

Noah chokes on a laugh, "no, you heathen, I was going to cook you dinner and take you to my favorite spot."

"And then sex right?"

"Sure."

"You can cook?"

"I may have been attending a class, to impress you," he says earnestly.

"Consider me impressed," I wink at him, "what are we having?"

"Why don't you go have a bath while I take care of everything out here?"  Noah looks a little nervous and it's so far removed from the demeanor I usually associate to him.  I slip my hand under his shirt and touch his warm skin while I stretch up to kiss him.