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Chapter Twelve

Pulling into a space in the quiet, dark car park to eat our food, it struck me once again how strangely calm I felt in Noah's presence. Like we'd always been friends, and this was completely normal behaviour.

But, I was also fully aware that events of the past week, ever since Noah had walked into my life, had been far from normal.

Of course, it was him that broke the silence as we began to eat.

"About the other night..." he began.

"Don't. Just forget about whatever that was," I sighed. "There's no reason we can't just be friends and hang out from now on."

"Cool," he replied, looking dead into my eyes as he took a long sip from his drink. "Friends."

Even if he wasn't intentionally trying to look incredible, my eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the way his lips closed around the plastic straw and his cheekbones grew even sharper as he sucked gently.

Jesus Christ, Abi, what the hell is wrong with you? He's just having a drink for god's sake! My subconscious screamed.

"There's something about you, though," he said softly. "You've got into my head and I want to know more about you."

Shifting uneasily in his seat as he fiddled with the keys that dangled from the ignition, he continued.

"I want to know who made you write songs with words like that. I want to know why you've not given anyone your virginity yet. I want to know how you like your coffee and which side of the bed you prefer to sleep on."

"But you can find all that out as my friend," I laughed, shaking my head. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression for some reason. I'm just not in the right place to be looking for anything more than friendship right now."

Sighing, Noah turned his body fully in the driver's seat to face me.

"What happened to you?" he asked. "You said you don't have much experience with guys, so how is there so much pain in your lyrics if you've never had your heart broken?"

"I've experienced my fair share of heartbreak," I snapped. "Just because I've never been screwed, it doesn't mean I haven't loved before."

"Who did you love so much that they made those words come out of you?"

"I don't like to talk about it."

"But I thought we were 'friends'?" he said, his dimple making an appearance alongside the mischievous smirk he wore so well.

"I had a boyfriend for a while," I whispered. "He didn't treat me very nicely. Well, not nice at all actually."

"So, he's the dick who broke your heart that bad?"

"Not exactly."

"Then who is that song about? Who's the bastard who left you shattered and took all the pieces of you with them?"

"It doesn't matter now," I sighed, shaking my head as I twisted the straw of my drink around in the lid, its ear-piercing squeak causing me to wince.

"I need to know, Abi. I need to know who hurt you," he pushed, his voice rising with urgency.

Slowly, I looked up. Everything about his face told me that he cared. He wanted to know me. He seemed to want to share the things I had been through. My mum had always said friends are the family we choose; maybe it wouldn't hurt to let someone in after so long.

Taking a deep breath, I answered quietly, "My dad."

"Your dad?"

I nodded silently as I felt an unwelcome tear roll down my cheek.

"Please don't cry," Noah whispered, instinctively reaching out to wipe the tear with his rough thumb. "Whatever your dad did to you then he's a fucking idiot. Dads should protect their little girls no matter what, not leave them feeling broken and in pain."

As yet another tear fell, quickly followed by another then another, Noah brought his other hand up to pull my head over the gearstick and onto his chest.

"What did he do? What did he do to hurt you?"

Shaking my head against him, the material of his T-shirt began to grow warm and wet with my tears.

"Abi, please. I can't deal with you being this upset and not knowing why," Noah murmured against my hair. "I won't judge you, I promise. I know what it's like to be judged and I wouldn't do that to you."

Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I pulled my head away from him, his hands still holding the back of my head. Barely able to get the words out, my voice cracked as I answered his plea.

"My dad left us," I began. "A couple of years ago. He couldn't cope with life anymore so he decided to end it all."

Pausing to catch another breath among my tears, I could just about muster a croak as I finished my story. "And I was the one that found him."

As my body shook into full, unashamed sobs with the relief of telling someone my secret, Noah pulled me tighter into him and I breathed in his smell as my face burrowed into his firm, strong chest.

"I can't even imagine..." he said gently. "Nobody should have to go through that. I wish I could turn back the clock for you and take the pain away. Make you feel happy."

Pulling my head back from his embrace, I held his gaze. I hated thinking about what happened with dad. But, right there at that moment, it wasn't about what he did, for once. It was about Noah, sitting there in front of me offering some way of fixing part of my soul that George hadn't been able - or willing - to.

"Maybe you can," I whispered.

Pulling away from me a little too suddenly, he shook his head.

"We should go," he smiled nervously, "I'll take you back to yours."

"But my housemate is home," I frowned, silently kicking myself for misreading the situation yet again.

"I'm not going to try and come in with you," he said softly, pulling my head away from his and shifting back in his seat. "Not tonight, not like this. I'm not going to throw away the grain of trust just starting to grow between us."

I slumped back into the passenger seat as Noah started the engine.

Maybe telling someone about your father's suicide wasn't the most common way to set the mood, but the trust and comfort that I'd felt from Noah as I confessed made me sure I'd have been ready to trust him with anything. With my secrets. With my heart. Maybe even with my untouched body one day. It was just a shame that he clearly wasn't interested in me in that way.

As he pulled out of the car park, I stared out of the window trying to shake the image of my dad out of my head. Rather than recall the sight that I had found that fateful day when I arrived home early from school, I tried to focus on the image of Noah's eyes sparkling as I had looked into them just minutes before. I was sure there had been something there, he looked at me differently to the way other people did. But then, who was I to know what the hell a look meant?

Almost like he could read my thoughts, I felt his warm hand leave the gearstick and gently intertwine with mine resting on my lap. Slowly, I turned my head against the leather headrest to face him. As he drove, I silently watched the streetlights flicker across his face while he concentrated on the road, the quiet strains of David Bowie's Life on Mars creating the perfect soundtrack for this strange but beautiful creature who had crash landed into my life from nowhere.

With his arrival from whatever planet had so perfectly crafted him, Noah had broken through the walls I had spent months building in less than a couple of weeks. Yet, as he glanced over to smile softly in the amber flashes of the streetlights rushing past, a melancholy longing tainted my thoughts.

I had revealed my biggest secret. But, still, I knew nothing about him.