I twist the nob and turn to Kaleb as the door slides slowly open. “He wants food,” I say, reaching for the three big casserole dishes he’s holding.
“I’ve got ‘em,” he says, shouldering his way inside and heading for the kitchen.
I take the time to look around like I hadn’t dared to the night Sam and I came over for the ballgame. Like most rentals, the walls are a stark white, but Noah has taken the time to personalize his space. Here and there, in artfully arranged groupings, are floating shelves containing not knickknacks but books, anchored solidly on each end by matching candleholders that must be of some heft if they double as book stops. There’s also a five-shelf bookcase almost full of more books, thrillers and mysteries, but also some whose titles betray Noah's field of study. I run my fingers over the unbroken spines of several volumes and wonder what it must be like to collect things, especially something as solid and sturdy and adventure-laden as books. A flicker of envy flares but I quash it swiftly. Noah had a better start to life than me; he’s destined for great things. He deserves to be surrounded by the things he cares about. The library is much more like the younger me: temporarily on loan to this family or that agency.
I notice a couple of framed jerseys hanging side by side above another floating shelf. On this one rest a baseball and what I can only assume is a hockey puck. Both are autographed and sitting in cute little stands. I glance up at the jerseys and see they, too, are autographed by people named Tkachuk and Freese. I shrug. With my knowledge of sports, those names mean nothing. If Carl’s boys hadn’t found it amusing to use me as target practice, I wouldn’t know the difference between a baseball and a softball.
I move on to the soft brown suede couch where Noah and I cuddled during the game. I smile stupidly, remembering, and run my fingers lightly over the material. There are two matching armchairs and, mounted on the wall, the enormous LED television.
I notice an 11 x 14 photo on the table near one of the chairs and pick it up, studying it carefully. My fingertips have just outlined Noah's slightly less rugged, teenage face when Kaleb’s voice behind me makes me jump and almost drop the thing.
“That was taken when Noah was seventeen. It’s the last picture he has of his dad.”
I nod and take in the family, frozen forever in time. His dad seems healthy, if a little tired. The love and pride he has in his family shines through his eyes and the radiant smile that flashes dimples identical to those of his elder son. “What happened?”
“Aneurysm in the shower. He and the boys had just gotten back from an afternoon of golf. Luke took it hard, but nowhere near as hard as Noah. His dad was his hero.”
I nod silently, hoping Kaleb will go on. Noah's little brother looks like a seven-year-old version of Noah, full of mischief. Their mother, her shoulder-length dark hair elegantly arranged, stares out of the picture with kind eyes and an indulgent smile.
The family portrait is so different from anything I’ve ever known that my hands start to shake. Hastily, I put the frame back down before I manage to break Noah's family, too. I clear my throat nervously, shove my hands in my pockets, and turn to find Kaleb regarding me with a solemn expression.
“I-I better get that food packed way,” I stutter, moving past Kaleb into the kitchen.
“Aves—”
“It’s just food, Kaleb,” I say. I open the refrigerator, hiding my flaming face, and look for things to move to make room for the dishes I brought.
“Then explain this,” Kaleb challenges.
I pull my head out of the fridge and see Kaleb brandishing a white box with blue ribbon. I shake my head in denial for both of us. “I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s for you. It was on the counter.”
I shrug and look away, busying myself with one of the casserole dishes. “Oh. Probably cookies and a shopping list. Noah said he’d have a surprise for me. You know he can only make his grandmother’s cookies.”
“Does this look like a box of cookies to you?”
I make myself look again, even though I know the box is nowhere near big enough. “No.” I feel myself pale and start to shake. What has Noah done now?
“You better sit down before you wreck the place, Aves.”
Nodding once, I slide into the chair Kaleb pulls out from the table. He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge before sitting down opposite me. He uncaps one and hands it to me. It’s all so déjà vu it’s scary. The last time we did this was in Kaleb’s house at New Year’s. Four months later everything and nothing has changed. Noah and I know each other better, we’re friends who kiss now. I drink deeply from the water as Noah's words from the night of the ballgame come back to me: “
It’s already happening, baby. It has been for a while.
”
Nervously, I look at Kaleb. “Is that what I think it is?”
“I think so,” he answers with a slight frown.
I shake my head. “I can’t take it, Kaleb…. Why? Why would he buy me something like that? I’ll just break it. I break everything.”
And everyone
, I finish silently.
“I don’t know, Avery. Maybe he thinks you’ll like it? Maybe he thinks you deserve it?”
Suddenly the box starts singing. It’s the song Noah sang to me the day I told him about Tommy Blevins. I stare between Kaleb and the box, panicked.
“You better answer it.”
Frantically, I fumble with the ribbon and the box, unable to separate the two. Another chorus goes by before; finally, the ribbon comes off, only to stick to my fingers. I shake them ineffectually. Kaleb laughs and Christina keeps singing.
Suddenly, it’s silent. I stare at it beseechingly but nothing happens.
“Down,” Kaleb says. I put the box on the table and he laughs again. “Not you, dork. The song. I was finishing the lyrics.”
“Oh,” I say, picking it up again in trembling fingers. I lift the lid and stare down at its contents, dumbfounded. As I carefully reach inside, Christina belts it out again. I almost throw the thing I’m so surprised.
I look at Kaleb again. “Well, answer him,” he says, shoulders shaking with suppressed laugher.
Quickly, I fumblingly extract the new white iPhone from its packaging and slide my finger across the screen the way I’ve seen scores of much cooler people do for years. I tap the answer button and bring the phone to my ear. “Hello?” I squeak.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Noah's voice coos. “Surprised?”
“Uh—very.” I can’t even put two words together I’m so freaked out. Surprised? That’s an understatement.
Noah's low laugher reaches my ear and somehow the sound of it starts to calm me. “Good. Now before you start in with the 'I can’t accept it' speech: yes, you can. It’s my gift to you for everything you do for me.”
“Noah—”
“Avery,” he mimics.
“I can’t afford this.
You
can’t afford this. I can’t pay a bill like this!”
“Baby, it’s paid up for two years.”
“
What?!
Noah, no—”
“Shh. It’s okay. Mom asked me what I wanted for graduation and this is it. I want us to be able to contact each other whenever we want. I wanna send you texts and funny pictures when I’m bored in class. And I want you to be able to do the same. Your little prepaid didn’t even do text! Please, please just accept it. I know you think it’s too much, but I worried about you all winter with your car and that phone you never bothered to get more than a handful of minutes for. Please, Avery. For me?”
I look to Kaleb for help, as if he can hear the guilt trip Noah's laying on me, but he just smiles and nods. “This is Noah. You know it as well as I do.”
Finally, I heave a sigh of defeat. There is no winning this argument. “Okay, you win. Thank you for the overly-extravagant gift.”
Noah growls his victory and I practically melt into the chair right in front of Kaleb. How embarrassing. “You’re welcome, little one. Listen, if it makes you feel better, you can make me some Orange Fluff as repayment.” He laughs.
I glance at the counter where a new batch is already waiting for him. “We’ll see,” I hedge. “Honestly, Noah, are you sure? If I accept this thing I’ll probably wind up breaking it in the next two weeks. I’m a klutz, remember? I could break things professionally!”
Noah laughs warmly. “No worries, little one. It’s fully insured. Take it. Enjoy it. I’ve downloaded some music to it. Oh, and Words with Friends. We’ll have to play that. It’s fun.”
“Uh, Words with—okay.” I have no idea what that is.
“Okay. I gotta run back to class. Can I see you tomorrow?”
“Sure. You want me to bring lunch to the store? Won’t that run you short of time?”
I hear him pause and I brace myself. “Actually, I was hoping you’d want to come over for dinner tomorrow. I’ll grill steaks. Bring Sam and Kira, if you want.”
My heartbeat thunders in my ears. “Sam works tomorrow night.”
“Oh,” he says. I can practically see his expression, the way he bites his bottom lip when he wants me to do something outside my comfort zone.
“I’ll ask Kaleb. Maybe they’re free.”
“Excellent! But if not, will you come anyway?”
I can see by the expression on Kaleb’s face that he knows exactly what’s going on and that he and Josh now have unbreakable plans they didn’t have ten minutes ago. I tell myself it’s okay. It’s just Noah. We’ve been alone together dozens of times in the last four months. I know I’m safe with him. We’re friends. Friends who kiss. “What time?” I ask, hating the tremor in my voice.
“Seven o’clock?” he asks.
“It’s a deal,” I say before I can convince myself otherwise.
“Yes! It’ll be fun, you’ll see. But I really gotta go now. I’ll text you later. Listen to the music! Bye!”
I hear the call drop and stare at the screen of my brand new white iPhone.
What have I just agreed to?
Kaleb clears his throat and I quickly look up at him. “So you’re seeing each other now?”
“What? No! We’re just friends.” Friends who kiss.
“Friends who kiss?”
I stare at him wide-eyed. “Sometimes,” I answer painfully.
“Friends who do more than kiss?”
I blush furiously and avoid his gaze by putting the phone back in its protective box. Maybe if I carry it around like this, I won’t break it. “No,” I answer, barely above a whisper.
“But you want that, don’t you, Avery? You want more from Noah than a friendship with a few kisses?”
“I can’t,” I say after a too-long period of silence.
“But you want to? …Avery?”
“No!” I get up to attend to the food. “I can’t! I’m not—Noah knows, okay? I’m not leading him on. He knows I’m different. He knows I—can’t.” Inexplicably, tears sting my eyes. I’ve never wanted to be intimate with anyone before. I’ve never allowed myself to dream anyone would want that with me. I’ve always known what I’m useful for and it’s certainly not that, but lately…. Lately, I have wondered what it would be like to be with Noah that way. I’ve allowed myself to imagine it and dream about it. Thanks to his infinite patience and my progress with Kendall, it doesn’t seem like such a far-fetched idea. I know he would be gentle and that feeling his strong, naked body against mine would be much more than I’ve ever imagined, but I’m not there yet. I may never be and that thought hurts and disappoints me more than I expect it to. Part of the problem is that I know what I look like naked. I’m no one’s idea of attractive, much less sexy.
Not like Noah. Noah's almost everyone’s idea of sexy. He’s blond and built and beautiful. He can have any guy he wants. All he has to do is flash those dimples and turn on the charm and guys must be begging to jump into his bed.
I’m not one of those, though. I can’t afford to be. The thought slams into my head with such force I almost drop Noah's Orange Fluff container. It’s what he’s going to expect from me if I keep letting him kiss me. I choke down a sob and keep my face buried in the cool air of the refrigerator. It was going so well, this friendship with kisses.
As if echoing my thoughts, Kaleb says, “You’re going to have to make a decision pretty soon, Avery. Noah deserves to be with someone who is more than just his cook.”
I close the refrigerator and nod in agreement, avoiding Kaleb’s eyes. “I’ll sort it with him. I promise.”
Kaleb cups my cheek in his hand. It feels strange not being Noah's hand. I miss the caress of his thumb on my lip. I look up at the man who’s like another brother to me. “You deserve all that, too, you know?” he says softly. “You’re a wonderful guy, Avery. Noah could do a lot worse. Hell, he
has
done worse. But you need to believe you’re worth it, that what you two could have together could be magical. I can see it. I think you two were made for each other. But if you don’t think you can do it, you need to stop it soon before you both get hurt.”
“I will,” I whisper, the very thought of hurting Noah rips through me like a knife.
Kaleb’s hand drops to his side. “Wrong answer, kid. Way wrong answer.” He shakes his head sadly. “Get your stuff together and let’s get out of here before we’re both - late for work.”
Swiftly, I gather the iPhone in its box and follow Kaleb to the door. I know Noah will call or text the new phone tonight after I get off work. I’ll find a way by then to make sure he knows our friendship has to go back to “without kisses.”
***
Noah answers my knock on his door and my mouth goes instantly dry. The Sahara Desert has more moisture than my mouth—but only for half a second. Then it starts watering so much I have to swallow before I can gurgle out a “hi.”
The man is going to be the death of me, I have no doubt. I’m used to the plaid button down Noah or the sexy turtleneck Noah but nothing prepares me for this. The most beautiful man in the world stands before me, dimples flashing on each side of his wide smile. He’s dressed in painted-on blue jeans and a tight, black tank top that emphasizes the immense breadth of his shoulders and the power in his biceps, not to mention how lovingly it hugs his square pectorals. Atop his blond head sits a black baseball cap, jauntily angled and backwards, of all things. To make matters worse his nipples aren’t his only attribute that are clearly outlined under his clothing.