Present Perfect(48)

I took the t-shirt and pulled it over my head. Noah was trying hard not to look in my direction. I turned off my brain and let Senorita Sluquila take over. Raising my leg, I slowly rubbed my inner calf up and down Noah’s hip.

“You want to see how talented I am?” I asked looking at him through my eyelashes.

“What are you talking about?” he said.

I could tell he was still slightly dazed from my underwear soliloquy.

“Watch and learn, buddy boy.” Keeping eye contact, Noah sat back on his heels ready for the show.

Moving one arm around to my back, I played with my bra hook for a few seconds, trying to unclasp it. Once it was undone I reached up into the sleeve of the shirt and pulled one strap down and out. I repeated the exact same move on the other side, this time I pulled the entire bra out from the sleeve, held it over my head, and loudly said, “Ta-dah!”

Noah started shaking his head and laughing, some of his nervousness disappearing. “You’re nuts.”

“And talented.” I gave him a wink.

“Yes, very talented,” he said, smiling at me.

The room got very quiet for a few seconds as we continued to maintain eye contact. I leaned back on the bed, propping myself up on my elbows. I tilted my head slightly to one side and shook it, letting my hair fall over my shoulder.

I’m not sure if I wanted him to be jealous or feel guilty because of Brittani, when I asked, “Do you want to know what Brad did to me?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “He ran his hands up and down my bare back, over my hips, and grabbed my ass.”

I could see the anger build up in Noah’s eyes. His face was becoming strained, his hands were already formed into fists, and his breaths were coming out deep, and heavy. I rubbed his hip again with my leg. Suddenly, I felt his hands behind my knees, pulling me to the edge of the bed, and against his chest. I gasped. My hands gripped the edge of the bed while his remained behind my knees. We were nose-to-nose. Our chests rising and falling quickly, as our breaths became heavy.

Gazing into his beautiful hypnotic light blue eyes, I whispered, “Do you want to touch me?”

Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and sighed, “Fuck, yes,” he whispered.

“Then do it,” I challenged.

He moved in closer. I felt his hands run over my hips and under my shirt. The sensation of them on my bare skin caused heat to radiate between my legs.

Our lips were almost touching when I whispered, “Touch me, Noah.”

He stared at me for several seconds. The look in his eyes was a combination of desire and conflict. I felt his hands start to travel down my back and out from under my shirt. He pulled away from me and sat back on his heels.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he said under his breath.

I didn’t understand what had just happened. I felt embarrassed and confused. I had obviously done something wrong. Noah didn’t want me.

Somehow building up the courage, I asked, “What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. It’s just you’ve been drinking a lot and I don’t want anything to happen between us while you’re drunk.”

I could feel my tears getting ready to spill over my cheeks. He didn’t want me. I felt an all-consuming humiliation wash over me.

Looking down at my lap, I whispered, “I want to go home now.”

Wiping away my tears, he said in a low voice, “Don’t cry, Tweet. Talk to me.”

I couldn’t look at him. “It’s just that I could tell Brittani was drunk and you still…” I trailed off. “Please let me go home now.”

God, I was pathetic. If this was how I act when I’m drunk then I am never going to drink again.

Noah wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest, and softly said, “I’m so sorry about tonight. I hate myself for hurting you,” he pulled back, resting his forehead on mine. “It didn’t matter if she was drunk. I don’t care about her and she knows that. She doesn’t care about me either. We were both using each other. You’re not just a warm body that a guy screws when he’s trying to numb himself. You mean everything to me.” He kissed my forehead gently, and then whispered against it, “Don’t go. Stay with me.” I nodded. I wanted to stay. He then left to get my water and aspirin.

Once the door had closed, I laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I felt completely drained. My head began to throb from the events of the night running around in it. I scooted up the bed and crawled under the covers, lying on my side.

I heard the door open and close quietly. Noah walked around to my side of the bed. Sitting up, I took the water and aspirin he brought me. Noah had already changed into a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. I placed the glass on the nightstand and laid my head back down. The lights went out. I felt the bed dipped as he slipped under the covers behind me. Pressing his chest against my back, he let his arm drape around my waist and held me tight. I felt his warm breath flowing over the back of my neck. He calmed me.

I was ready for this night to be over, so it surprised me when I opened my big mouth and said, “Noah, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, Tweet,” he whispered against my neck.

“Even if it’s about Brittani?”

I felt his chest expand and contract as he took in a deep breath and then slowly let it out. “Yes.”