Maybe I'm bad in other ways.
What in God's name does he mean by that?
He doesn't let me dwell on it as we stand side by side in the lift. Instead, he quickly asks about my day, as if he's realised that what he'd said had sounded flirty.
We certainly couldn't have that.
"Tomorrow sounds like another big work day?"
I can't think straight.
How is he bad in other ways?
He certainly isn't bad looking. He doesn't have a bad personality - he couldn't possibly be the type of bad boy you'd read about in a dark romance novel.
If anything, he'd been nothing but overly sweet since I moved in with them.
Always driving me around. Always smiling. Always giving me something to look at.
The doors ping open, the bitter cold air hitting my arms and making my hairs stand up straight to attention. I wrap my arms around myself and begin following him towards the glass door.
"We have to give our presentations for the Christmas campaign," I explain, staring at the way his tank ripples in the wind as we step into the street.
His car isn't in front of us, as I'd expected.
There's a small pang deep in my chest. Which is completely and utterly ridiculous, Noah himself is standing right next to me so it's not like his car is going to be far behind.
"That's exciting right?" he muses. He follows my eyes to the empty space in front of my office building, adding, "I've been here fifteen minutes at least, I can't leave my car there. I've parked up the street. Come on."
"It's nerve-wrecking," I admit, as we begin walking towards the coffee shop that I regularly visit. I feel the breeze nipping at me, pulling goosebumps up from my skin. I squeeze my arms tighter around my body to try and fight it off. "I took the lead on the tv advert and honestly I feel a bit out of my depth."
He tilts his head to look at me and the breath is knocked clean out of my lungs again.
How are you bad in other ways?
Stop looking so painfully chiseled.
Gorgeous.
Out of my league.
As if the devil himself had sent Noah up to make my life a personal hell, he looks at me with concern written all over his face and pulls me into his side.
"You didn't bring a jacket to work?"
His arm wraps around my shoulders, his hand running up and down my shivering arm. His touch feels boiling hot on my cold skin and I don't know whether it's because he's still warm from the gym or his touch just happens to turn me on so much that it's started burning me.
"That work guy was right, though," he says, still rubbing my arms. "You'll be fine. I have great faith in your advert skills."
It's sweet, just as everything about him is. But he has no idea if I have great advert skills - really, we've known each other less than a week, and I could be absolutely terrible at my job. It's still a comforting thought to have his faith in me though.
"I just don't want to screw it up. Danny's been really great in giving me this opportunity, I wouldn't want to let him down."
"Work guy?" there's distaste on his face, presumably because of Danny's reaction to him at the office.
I shiver, letting his side press harder against my own.
"Uh huh," I mumble. "Sorry about him. Everybody isn't used to me having friends outside of the office."
"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard." he snorts.
"Shut up," I say, my cheeks turning crimson. "You're meant to be making me feel better about the advert."
He laughs then but still doesn't look down at my upturned face.
"I told you," he speaks quietly, leaning down towards my ear. "You'll make the best advert I've ever seen."
I look up at him, staring at the way even these streetlamps make him look hotter and light up all the right parts of his face. His arm stays tight sound me, his clothed body feeling like my personal heater.
The tattoo on his neck looks too inviting. His subtle flirting earlier frazzled my head too much, and iv'e had a long day at work.
So I don't blame myself when I say, " if I do, will you tell me what those bad ways are?"
His arm drops to my midsection, his fingers dig into my hip. He rubs a tattooed hand over his face and our walking pace slows. We make a sudden stop. Which makes me realise we're now standing next to his fancy car.
He keeps me tucked into his side as he begins walking me around to the passenger side.
"I'm not really sure how to answer that," he breathes, as he opens my door. His hand runs down my body as I lower myself into the seat, and then he's gone, the door closing gently behind him.
I'd feel embarrassed for flirting with him if he didn't keep touching me with every chance he gets.
"Cam's home," he says once he's in his seat. "He's cooked us all beef stew and dumplings." I scrunch my nose up at the thought. "It actually smells decent."
He looks over at me but doesn't start the engine.
"That's nice," I say.
He nods, making me squirm under his gaze. His eyes flick to my legs as I fold one over the other, and I don't miss the way his hand tightens on the steering wheel.
He isn't even touching me and I'm on fire. There's heat between my thighs that has become all too familiar in his presence. The pressure at the pit of my stomach has been building since I saw him sitting at my desk.
Do something, my mind urges. While he's here. While he's soft and flirty and obviously thinking about you too.
Noah clears his throat and starts the car.
"I probably shouldn't have said that earlier, huh?" he sighs.
The thing that's given me butterflies between my legs? No, probably not.
"It's alright," I answer. "I don't mind."
"Cam would."
I don't argue with him on that one because it's true.
My head is full of him as he pulls out of the parking space. His eyes stare at me behind my own even though he's looking at the road ahead of us.
The heat blasts, my seat is so warm I never want to leave it.
My pussy is throbbing.
How is he so fucking hot?
How does he say such hot things and not expect me to turn into a smooth jam before him?
I'm squirmy, and heated, and I keep stealing glances at the exposed muscles in his arms because they're there and someone should definitely be staring at them.
I swear he's teasing me when his jaw clenches.
"Have you warmed up?" he asks me.
A little too much.
I just hum in response. I don't trust a single word leaving my lips in this state.
He reaches over and presses a ward hand against my exposed arm, nodding to himself before putting it back on the steering wheel. My heart beats through my chest at the contact.
I try to take my mind off of it, so I shuffle through my bag for my phone.
Isobel: He's picking you up from your desk now?? GIRL
I grin at her text, glad for the distraction.
Mackenzie: Do you wanna come over tomorrow?
Mackenzie: To celebrate or drown our sorrows, depending on the presentations.
Isobel: And to distract you from the Greek God that resides with you? Count me in!
He is a Greek God. I should start calling him Zeus.
====================================================================
Cam is serving up dinner when we get through the front door, with a proud smile on his face and flour on his cheek.
"I'm quite the chef too, Romano."
Noah laughs beside me at Cam's comment.
I feel guilty as I take the bowl; guilty for harboring this crush on his best friend. Guilty because I know he'd disapprove of it and feel uncomfortable with the idea.
Guilty because I'm still turned on just having Noah stand in the same room as me.
We sit on the sofa tonight with the bowls on our laps, pressed against each other. Cam puts on some reality show that I've never heard of and judges every single person who appears on the screen unashamedly.
We talk lightly about our days as we eat, in between Cam's running commentary of TV personalities.
"Is it alright if my friend Isobel comes over tomorrow?" I ask Cam, eyeing Noah too. "She's a friend from work."
"You don't have to ask, Kenzie. Of course." He rolls his eyes. "Mia has actually been asking if we want to go to Fraction with her and Emily in the group chat."
"Ooh, a club? At your big age?" I joke.
I haven't been to one in ages.
I could never take it easy at clubs. Always ending up on my ass, too drunk to carry myself home.
"Funny," he deadpans. "You're both welcome to join us."
Going to a club and getting drunk in front of Noah - what could possibly go wrong? He's only the most attractive person I've ever laid eyes on, and I only want to bed him every time I look into his eyes.
I want to bed him right now actually.
His thigh pressed against mine on the sofa right now doesn't allow space for cooling off.
"Sure," I answer, placing my bowl on the coffee table in front of us. "I'll text Isobel and tell her to bring her stuff."
"Do you want me to pick you both up tomorrow then?" Noah asks.
"I'll get Isobel to drive us," I smile at him. "She won't want to leave her car at work anyway."
"Don't you wish you could drive?"
Cam snorts, " she'd kill us all."
I roll my eyes, turning my back to Cam completely with a huff, putting my feet on Noah's thighs without thinking. He brings his hands to my ankles and rests them there.
Cam continues, " Jack gave her lessons-"
"He gave me one lesson." I interrupt. "One."
Noah grins between us but says nothing.
"And he vowed never again afterwards, because you nearly gave him a heart attack." Cam's laughing now.
My cheeks heat up, remembering the way Jack had shouted at me for the first and only time, when my foot had slammed down so hard on the break that he had almost gone through the windscreen. Then, still in a panic, I tried to set off again, only for the car to repeatedly jolt and then stall, because I was still in third gear.
We'd only been on the road for five minutes when he demanded I get back into the passenger seat and angrily drove us home.
We didn't have another lesson after that.
"I could teach you, if you wanted?" Noah offers quietly.
If I'm not mistaken, I catch the beginning of a blush start to mist his cheeks.
I open my mouth to respond but Cam beats me to it. " I don't think I could let you do that to yourself man."
I whip my head around to scowl at Cam. He shrugs at me. "If she crashes your car, I wouldn't pay for it."
"I'll teach you." Noah declares.
The words are final, so Cam can't interject or make me sound like worse of a driver that I already do.
"When?" I ask him.
"On Sunday, so we aren't hungover." he kicks Cam's leg. "You're welcome to join us man."
"And die in the car with her? I'm all good."
I'll be alone with him again. Lately, I feel like I'm always alone with him. Either I'm at work or in his car or I'm pressed against his thigh on the sofa. That's my new life.
Noah-centric.
He meets my eye and I realise that I'm staring again, but he doesn't tease me this time. He just gives me a gentle smile before looking back to the TV.
Is he. . . letting me stare at him?
I'm overthinking this.
It was a glance.
Still, I don't turn away.
I let my eyes run over every shadow and crevice on his face. I imagine running my finger down the bridge of his nose, and I can almost feel the points of his lips underneath the pad of my fingertip.
But it's not real, and he's still meters away from me, looking more than inviting under the soft living room light.
"Mia's excited that you're coming out tomorrow," Cam mumbles. I blink myself out of the haze of attraction I've fallen into once more, twisting my head back to look at him. He stares at his phone and adds, "I think she's just excited to outnumber the boys for once."
"Will it just be the same people as Tuesday night?"
"Yeah," Cam grins. "You think we have more than three friends?b Noah's mates were all assholes when I first met him."
"They were a rough crowd," Noah admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"That's putting it lightly," Cam scoffs. "I got into a fight with one of them because his girlfriend messaged me. She messaged me, and I got punched in the face."
"She messaged you after you slept with her, you wanker."
"Yeah," Cam blushes, eyeing me quickly, as if I would tell him off. "But still."
"So you fell out with them all?" I ask Noah.
"I just phased them out," he shrugs. "It's still cordial, but I don't hang out with them anymore."
"We might see them out tomorrow, Kenzie," Cam warns. "They're at Fraction pretty much every weekend. Don't go near them."
I hold up my hands as if defending myself.
Cam seems to have gotten awfully protective recently, warning me away from both his friends and his friends' ex-friends. I don't recall him ever warning me away from someone in high school - he was too wrapped up in his own academic life.
Noah's hand rubs at my ankle briefly. I look at him through my lashes.
His fingertip grazes my shin and his arm settles along my leg.
I recite my presentation in my head from memory, trying not to let his touch send my head into overdrive once more.